Arena Deathmatch (Part 1)

Li Xuan returned to the martial arts school to find the sky already bright.

He was covered in blood, his left arm wrapped in a makeshift bandage that was already soaked through. With every step he took, he left bloody footprints on the ground.

The outer court disciples practicing their morning drills saw him and looked over in surprise.

"Isn't that Li Xuan? How did he get so injured?"

"I heard the woodshed caught fire last night and he almost burned to death."

"But these wounds... they don't look like burns."

"Shh, keep your voice down. Senior Brother Zhou is over there."

Li Xuan looked up.

In the open space in front of the martial arts hall, Zhou Peng was practicing sword forms with several disciples.

Upon seeing Li Xuan, the sword moves in his hands clearly faltered, and a look of undisguised shock flashed in his eyes.

Li Xuan isn't dead?

How is that possible!

The woodshed burned down like that, and he still managed to get out alive?

And these wounds... they're clearly stab wounds!

Zhou Peng's expression turned grim, and he sheathed his sword before walking over.

"Li Xuan," he blocked Li Xuan's path, scrutinizing him from head to toe. "What happened to you? The woodshed caught fire last night, you weren't injured, were you?"

His tone was concerned, but his eyes were cold.

Li Xuan stopped. "Thanks to Senior Brother Zhou, I'm still alive."

"That's good," Zhou Peng said with a fake smile. "But these wounds of yours... they don't look like burns. Did you sneak out last night and get into some trouble?"

"Senior Brother Zhou jokes," Li Xuan replied. "Servants are not allowed to go out at night; that's a rule of the martial arts school. I was just injured by a falling beam when I got up to use the latrine."

"Is that so?" Zhou Peng stared at the wound on his left arm. "Can a beam leave such a neat cut?"

The surrounding disciples all looked over.

The atmosphere grew tense.

Li Xuan was about to speak--

"What are you all crowding around for?"

Steward Zhao walked over with his hands behind his back, looking displeased. "Aren't you supposed to be training?"

"Steward Zhao," Zhou Peng interjected quickly. "Li Xuan has stab wounds. I suspect he went out without permission last night, violating the rules of the martial arts school."

"Stab wounds?" Steward Zhao looked at Li Xuan's left arm. "What's going on?"

"Reporting to the Steward, it was a splintered piece of wood from the collapsing woodshed that cut me," Li Xuan said, his expression unchanged. "The wood was sharp, so it looks like a knife cut."

"A piece of wood?" Zhou Peng sneered. "Then I'd like to see what kind of wood could make such a..."

"Enough," Steward Zhao interrupted him. "Li Xuan, go to the infirmary to treat your wounds. Zhou Peng, take your disciples and continue your training."

"But..."

"But what?" Steward Zhao's eyes turned cold. "Wasn't I clear enough?"

Zhou Peng gritted his teeth and lowered his head. "Yes."

He shot Li Xuan a fierce glare before turning to leave.

Steward Zhao watched Li Xuan. "Come with me."

In the logistics hall.

Steward Zhao closed the door and turned to Li Xuan. "Honestly, where were you last night?"

"After the woodshed caught fire, I was at the infirmary," Li Xuan said.

"The infirmary?" Steward Zhao walked up to him and suddenly grabbed the bandage on his left arm, pulling it off forcefully--

The bandage came loose, revealing a gruesome wound underneath. The flesh was torn and peeled back, deep enough to see bone, with clean edges – clearly the result of a sharp weapon.

"This was from a piece of wood?" Steward Zhao stared at him.

Li Xuan remained silent.

"Li Xuan, I don't care what you were doing," Steward Zhao released his grip. "But remember – the martial arts school has its rules. If a servant is caught outside at night, the punishment is fifty lashes for a minor offense, or expulsion from the martial arts school for a serious one."

"This disciple understands."

"You understand nothing!" Steward Zhao cursed, then took a bottle of powder from a cabinet. "This is Golden Wound Powder. Apply it, and don't let the wound get wet for three days."

Li Xuan took it. "Thank you, Steward."

"Don't thank me," Steward Zhao sat down. "You saw how Zhou Peng looked at you just now. He won't let this go. And... the Martial Arts Competition has been moved up."

"Moved up?"

"The grand competition originally scheduled for next month has been moved up to three days from now," Steward Zhao said. "The rules have changed this time. Servants can challenge outer disciples. If you win, you'll be directly promoted to outer disciple. If you lose..."

He didn't finish.

Li Xuan asked, "What happens if I lose?"

"There are no rules regarding life or death," Steward Zhao looked at him. "This was proposed by Wu Ming, Zhou Peng's uncle, and the sect master agreed."

Li Xuan's pupils contracted.

No rules regarding life or death.

This was a blatant attempt to kill him.

"You can choose not to participate," Steward Zhao said. "Continue being a servant. Although life will be harder, at least you'll be alive."

"Will Zhou Peng let me off if I don't participate?" Li Xuan retorted.

Steward Zhao remained silent.

The answer was obvious.

"I'll participate," Li Xuan said.

"Have you thought it through?" Steward Zhao stared at him. "Zhou Peng will definitely arrange for someone to deal with you, and it will be the most ruthless kind. Once you're on the stage, it's a fight to the death, and no one can interfere."

"I've thought it through."

Steward Zhao looked at him for a long time, then sighed. "Alright, since you've decided, I won't stop you. Spend these three days recovering from your injuries. If you need any medicine, come find me."

"Yes."

Li Xuan left the logistics hall.

The wound on his left arm was still bleeding, but he tightly gripped the Golden Wound Powder in his hand.

Three days.

He only had three days.

The woodshed had been burned down, and the servants were temporarily housed in dilapidated rooms in the southwest corner of the martial arts school. Eight people crammed into one room, making it difficult to even turn over.

Li Xuan sat on his bunk in the corner and opened the Golden Wound Powder.

As the powder was sprinkled onto the wound, a sharp stinging pain spread. He gritted his teeth, cold sweat beading on his forehead, but his hands didn't stop.

By the time he finished treating the wound, he was drenched in sweat.

"Li Xuan," Zhang He sidled over, handing him a bowl of water. "Are you... are you really going to participate in the grand competition?"

"Yes."

"But you're injured like this..." Zhang He looked at his left arm. "Three days isn't enough time for the wound to heal."

"It has to be fought even if it doesn't heal," Li Xuan drank some water. "Zhou Peng won't give me any more time."

"How about..." Zhang He lowered his voice. "I heard there's 'Muscle-Growing Powder' sold on the black market that can quickly heal wounds. It's just... a bit expensive."

"How much?"

"Ten taels of silver, or thirty Contribution Points."

Li Xuan fell silent.

He currently only had five Contribution Point wooden tokens, and not a single piece of silver.

"I'll go ask the other brothers," Zhang He said. "If we pool our resources, we should be able to gather some."

"No need," Li Xuan shook his head. "Your Contribution Points aren't plentiful either."

"But..."

"I have a way," Li Xuan said.

He took out the Vitality Pills given to him by Ying Qi, poured out two, and swallowed them.

As the pills entered his stomach, they turned into a warm current that flowed towards the wound. A tingling sensation spread, and the wound began to heal slowly.

But it wasn't enough.

He needed more energy.

Potential points!

Li Xuan opened his status panel.

[Potential: 0.12]

Killing ordinary people no longer yielded potential points. Only by killing demonic beasts or stronger martial artists could he gain them.

But where could he find demonic beasts now?

As he was thinking, footsteps sounded from outside the door.

"Is Li Xuan here?" a strange voice called out.

Li Xuan looked up.

A tall, thin servant stood at the doorway, in his early twenties, with a scar on his face.

"It's me."

"Someone asked me to deliver a message," the tall, thin man said. "Back of the mountain, the usual spot. Someone's waiting for you."

The usual spot?

Li Xuan's heart stirred.

"Who?"

"You'll know when you get there." The tall, thin man turned and left.

Li Xuan pondered for a moment, then got up.

"Li Xuan," Zhang He grabbed him. "Be careful, it might be a trap."

"I know," Li Xuan nodded. "I'll go take a look."

Back of the mountain, a dilapidated kiln.

When Li Xuan arrived, the old handyman was already waiting inside the cave.

"You're here?" The old handyman puffed on his pipe, smoke swirling around him.

"You were looking for me?"

"Heard you're participating in the Grand Competition?" the old handyman asked.

"Yes."

"Suicidal," the old handyman spat out two words. "The person Zhou Peng arranged is named 'Wang Mang'. An outer disciple, Body Tempering third layer. But that's just his apparent strength. He's taken the Mad Blood Pill."

"Mad Blood Pill?"

"A forbidden medicine," the old handyman said. "It doubles your Strength for the duration of one incense stick. Zhou Peng paid Wang Mang five hundred taels of silver to kill you on the stage."

Strength doubles. Body Tempering third layer has a Strength of 1.5. Doubling it makes it 3.0! That's close to Body Tempering fifth layer level.

"Does the martial arts school master not care?" Li Xuan asked.

"Can't do anything about it," the old handyman shook his head. "It's almost impossible to detect after taking the Mad Blood Pill, unless you catch them red-handed. But on the stage, who has proof?"

Li Xuan fell silent.

"Also," the old handyman looked at him, "your injuries are too severe. You won't recover in three days. Even without Wang Mang, you wouldn't be able to defeat any of the outer disciples."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Give up," the old handyman said. "Leave the martial arts school, go somewhere else. With your talent, you can make a name for yourself anywhere."

Li Xuan shook his head. "I'm not leaving."

"Why?" the old handyman frowned. "As long as you're alive, you'll have a chance. If you die, everything is gone."

"If I leave, I lose," Li Xuan said. "Besides, if I leave, what about Zhang He and Wang Laoshi? Will Zhou Peng let them off?"

The old handyman stared at him for a long time, then sighed. "Fine. Since you've made up your mind, I'll give you something."

He took out a thin booklet from his embrace and tossed it over.

Li Xuan caught it.

The cover of the booklet was blank. When he opened it, he saw handwritten characters inside.

Blade Breaking Saber Technique - incomplete.

A common, mid-grade martial art.

"This is the saber technique I used when I was young," the old handyman said. "It only has three stances: Wind Breaking, Stream Breaking, and Mountain Slaying. Master the first stance, and you can cut through ordinary swords and sabers. Master the second stance, and you can break through defenses below Body Tempering fourth layer. The third stance... I never managed to master it myself."

Li Xuan gripped the booklet tightly. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," the old handyman said. "This saber technique emphasizes intent over form, focusing on breaking all techniques with a single saber strike. In three days, how much you can comprehend depends on you."

After speaking, he turned to leave.

"Senior," Li Xuan called out to him, "why are you helping me?"

The old handyman paused.

"Because..." he turned back, his eyes complex, "when I was young, I was just like you. Unwilling to bow my head, unwilling to admit defeat. Later... I lost, lost an arm, and swept the floors at the martial arts school for ten years."

He paused. "I don't want to see you walk the same path as me. But if you insist on going... then go all the way, and don't look back."

His figure disappeared at the cave entrance.

Li Xuan clenched the saber technique booklet, his eyes resolute.

Three days passed in the blink of an eye.

During these three days, Li Xuan barely slept.

He applied medicine to his injuries during the day and practiced his saber at night.

The Blade Breaking Saber Technique was indeed difficult to practice. The first stance, "Wind Breaking," emphasized striking like the wind, fast and accurate. He practiced it two thousand times before he barely managed to grasp the threshold.

The injury on his left arm hadn't fully healed. Every swing of the saber pulled at the wound, causing cold sweat to break out from the pain.

Not enough. Far from enough.

But he was out of time.