The Martial Arts Tournament Begins

The morning sunlight spilled across the outer courtyard martial arena of Qingcang Academy, the vast square already buzzing with noise.

Today was Month-End Martial Day. According to the academy's rules, higher-ranked disciples could challenge those ranked below them, with the victor claiming half the loser's Battle Merits. This rule was originally set to spur disciples to strive harder, but in many eyes, it looked more like a one-sided harvest by the strong from the weak.

And today, everyone's attention was fixed on one thing alone—

Ning Zhiyuan challenging Qin Jue.

The martial arena was packed to the brim. Among the tens of thousands of outer disciples, at least a few hundred had come upon hearing the news. Some came for the spectacle, some to witness Ning Zhiyuan's strength, but most wanted to see whether the much-talked-about Qin Jue would actually show up.

A scrawny disciple craned his neck toward the entrance, full of curiosity: "Hey, do you think that Qin Jue will really dare to come?"

The companion beside him curled his lip and sneered dismissively: "Who knows? I heard he's been holed up in his courtyard for three days straight, hasn't even stepped out."

"Heh, could it be he's hiding in fear?"

Someone in the crowd chimed in with a sarcastic tone.

Another person crossed his arms with a cold laugh, scanning the empty entrance: "Can he hide? If he doesn't show today, how will he ever hold his head up in the outer courtyard?"

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, voices rising and falling.

Beneath the stone pavilion by the arena, Su Jin and Shen Zhiqiu stood together.

"Jin Jin, do you think Qin Jue will come?"

Shen Zhiqiu tugged at Su Jin's sleeve. "I heard he hasn't even been to the Deacon Hall in three days, and he hasn't taken any tasks. Could he really be too scared to show?"

"I don't know..."

Su Jin shook her head gently, her gaze fixed on the direction of the martial stage, her eyes filled with complexity. "Knowing his nature... he'll probably still come."

Shen Zhiqiu sighed at that. "But... even if he does, what good will it do?"

She didn't finish the sentence, but the meaning was clear.

Su Jin remained silent.

Of course, she knew how dire Qin Jue's situation was.

But she also knew that there was a stubborn streak in that boy's bones, just like when he'd said he wanted to enter Qingcang Academy back then—his eyes firm, unshakable.

Su Jin let out a soft sigh, her gaze distant: "I hope... he'll be safe."

Beside the martial stage stood two middle-aged men, both clad in Steward Robes.

The slightly plump steward on the right, Ma Chen, glanced at the square-faced Lin Xiuyuan beside him and spoke with a grin.

"Steward Lin, what do you think of today's match?"

Lin Xiuyuan didn't even lift his eyelids, his voice betraying no emotion: "Just following the rules."

"Oh, Steward Lin, that's no fun to say."

Ma Chen shook his head to himself, leaning in and lowering his voice. "If you ask me, this match isn't worth watching at all. That Qin Jue has neither resources nor talent, and he's been shut in for three days—probably scared out of his wits. Meanwhile, Ning Zhiyuan has exceptional blade talent, and both his cultivation method and martial skills are Mortal Tier Upper Grade... This is nothing but a one-sided stomp!"

Seeing Lin Xiuyuan only furrow his brow slightly with no intention of replying, Ma Chen chuckled again on his own. "But that's fine. After today, if Qin Jue loses, it's a kind of relief. With his meager aptitude, staying in the outer courtyard is just more suffering."

This string of words finally got a reaction from Lin Xiuyuan. He turned his head, his gaze sharp as a blade, staring coldly at Ma Chen: "The match hasn't even started; victory and defeat are still unknown. Steward Ma is a bit too hasty."

Under that look, Ma Chen's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered his jovial demeanor with a chuckle: "Could it be that Steward Lin... has faith in that Qin Jue?"

Lin Xiuyuan no longer looked at him, turning his gaze back to the martial arena, his voice turning colder: "On the path of martial arts, there are countless variables. To declare defeat before battle is nothing but the shortsighted view of a frog at the bottom of a well."

The fat on Ma Chen's face twitched, his smile stiffening. In the end, he let out two dry laughs: "Fine, fine, fine. Then I'll wait and see just what waves this Qin Jue can stir up."

Above the martial arena, on a high platform with an excellent view.

At the corner of the platform, a thin young man in gray cloth robes leaned alone against a stone pillar.

His eyes were half-closed, and no one dared approach within three feet of him.

This young man was about eighteen or nineteen, with a lean, clean-cut face and a sharp edge between his brows.

Outer courtyard third rank, Chu Hanjiang.

"Even someone like you is interested in this farce?"

A cool voice rang out.

Chu Hanjiang opened his eyes slightly and turned his head to see a girl in a moon-white long dress standing not far away.

She was about seventeen, with a long sword on her back, stunningly beautiful, and an icy demeanor.

Outer courtyard seventh rank, Yun Qianyue.

"Ning Zhiyuan's blade has some skill."

Chu Hanjiang's tone was flat, betraying no emotion. "But it's only mildly interesting."

Yun Qianyue's cold eyes swept over the stage below, her voice utterly calm: "Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer against Third Layer, with superior cultivation method and martial skills. A match with no suspense—you can stomach this?"

"Who knows."

Chu Hanjiang closed his eyes again. "But that Qin Jue..."

He didn't finish.

Just then, the entrance to the martial arena suddenly fell silent!

All discussion came to an abrupt halt at this moment!

A figure slowly walked from the end of that path.

It was a youth, with a clean-cut face and a gentle temperament, wearing a washed-out academy uniform robe, with a rust-covered iron sword tucked at his waist.

It was Qin Jue.

"He really came!"

"This guy actually dared to show up for the appointment!"

"Not lacking in guts, but who knows if he has any real skill."

As the crowd murmured, everyone's gaze turned toward Qin Jue.

Qin Jue paid no heed to the surrounding chatter. His expression calm, his steps steady, he walked toward the Martial Stage one step at a time.

As he passed the Stone Pavilion, he paused slightly.

Su Jin stood there. Their eyes met briefly in the air.

"Qin Jue! You actually dared to come!"

Shen Zhiqiu pulled Su Jin behind her, glaring at him with a mix of urgency and anger: "Are you insane? It's not too late to go admit defeat to the steward now! Why throw your life away for a moment of pride?"

Su Jin, tugged behind her, looked up at Qin Jue.

Three days apart, and this youth she had grown up with seemed... changed.

At this moment, his calmness felt foreign to her, like an ancient well so deep it showed no bottom, untouched by any wind or rain from the outside world.

Su Jin's lips moved, but in the end, she only said one sentence: "Qin Jue... Senior Brother Ning's blade is very fast. You... take care in everything."

Qin Jue looked at her. In those calm eyes, a ripple finally stirred.

It was the original owner's memory—the warm times of childhood friendship, surging like a tide into his heart, then slowly receding.

He sighed inwardly, his gaze firming once more.

"Miss Su."

He gave a slight nod, his voice even, yet carrying a trace of distance, "Thank you for your concern."

With that, he withdrew his gaze, paused no longer, and walked straight toward the Martial Stage.

Su Jin stood frozen in place, a nameless sense of loss in her heart.

Shen Zhiqiu, watching clearly from the side, couldn't help but whisper, "Jin Jin, he..."

"It's fine."

Su Jin shook her head, speaking softly, "Perhaps... this is for the best."

Qin Jue ascended the Martial Stage. Someone was already waiting on it.

Ning Zhiyuan.

He wore a well-tailored, luxurious robe, with a jade pendant engraved with the character "Ning" at his waist, and held a standard-issue battle blade in his hand, its blade gleaming white.

Ning Zhiyuan looked Qin Jue up and down, the sneer on his lips growing more pronounced: "I thought you'd be too scared to show your face. Didn't expect you'd actually have the guts to come and die."

Qin Jue's gaze was calm.

Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer, Jade Bone Realm.

Blood and Qi abundant, bones tough and resilient.

From his stance, breathing, and the flow of his aura, his foundation was still solid—far better than those previous wastes who only relied on family resources to pile up their strength.

But that was all.

Qin Jue gave his assessment internally.

Though Ning Zhiyuan's blood and Qi far surpassed any martial artist from the world of his past life, in the eyes of Qin Jue, a Grandmaster of the Sword Dao, he was still unimpressive.

Seeing Qin Jue not respond, Ning Zhiyuan assumed he was afraid, and his disdain deepened. He flexed his wrist, producing a series of cracking bone sounds: "Fine, since you're here, let me see what right you have to stand before me!"

The moment his words fell, his blood and Qi suddenly surged!

"Rumble—"

A low, muffled thunder sounded from within his body—the noise of bones vibrating, the hallmark of the Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer [Jade Bone] realm!

Thunderous vibrations, an imposing aura like a tide, pressing down until it was hard to breathe.

The watching disciples all changed color in shock.

"It's Senior Brother Ning's Hundred Bones Thunderous Sound Art!"

"This aura... too terrifying!" Another person swallowed hard, "Qin Jue probably can't even take one move!"

Ning Zhiyuan reveled in this moment of being the center of attention. He looked at Qin Jue like a cat toying with a mouse, chin raised, face full of arrogance: "Qin Jue, kneel down and kowtow in surrender now, and I might consider letting you lose with some dignity."

Qin Jue finally lifted his head. A flicker of coldness passed through those calm eyes.

Kneel?

Ridiculous.

In his sixty years of sword cultivation in his past life, he had never even feared death—so how could he bow his head to such a threat?

"Too much nonsense."

He slowly gripped the iron sword at his waist. "Make your move."

Ning Zhiyuan's face instantly darkened, fury blazing in his eyes. "You're asking for death!"

The moment the words left his mouth, he stamped his foot and shot forward like an arrow!

"Boom—"

The bluestone floor cracked into a shallow pit beneath his step as he closed the distance in an instant, his war saber raised high, the blade howling with wind, a fearsome sight!

"Thousand Waves Saber—Rise the Wave!"

Ning Zhiyuan's bones shuddered within his body, all his strength converging like a tide into the saber's blade!

One slash came down!

The saber's momentum was heavy and steady, compressing the air into a low, roaring howl!

The watching disciples all held their breath.

Too heavy!

This strike carried immense weight, crashing in like a wave! Even a Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer martial artist at the same realm would have to dodge its edge!

Just then—

Qin Jue moved.

The onrushing saber light reflected in his pupils.

"Too high a start, your center wide open."

Then, with a light step, the iron sword in his hand left its sheath in that instant!

"Shiiing—"

The sword light, like a thread, traced a silver-white arc in a flash!

Tide Rising Sword Technique, First Stance—Tide Rising Stance!

The sword's momentum was light, flowing like water across the saber's edge, slipping around its side at that critical moment!

"What!?"

Ning Zhiyuan's pupils shrank sharply!

He had sealed off all of Qin Jue's retreats with that slash, yet his opponent not only refused to fall back but advanced, circling around from an angle he thought impossible!

"Shiiing—"

The sword's momentum slid across the saber's edge like flowing water!

Qin Jue's blade did not clash head-on with the war saber; instead, it followed the saber's momentum and bypassed it, the tip lightly tapping the blade!

"Ding—"

Ning Zhiyuan felt his wrist sink—the heavy force on his war saber was diverted by the sword's momentum, its power greatly diminished!

Qin Jue's sword momentum did not pause for a moment; the second strike followed immediately!

It slanted upward, the blade's edge aimed straight at Ning Zhiyuan's throat!

Ning Zhiyuan, shocked, stamped the ground, hastily retreating half a step, his war saber blocking horizontally!

"Shua—"

A flash of sword light—Qin Jue's blade slid along the saber again, slipping past the block like water!

"Shiiing—"

The sword's momentum still did not break; the third strike turned back in a smooth motion, the tip darting like a serpent's tongue, stabbing straight at Ning Zhiyuan's shoulder!

Three strikes linked into one breath, the sword's momentum surging like an unending tide, wave after wave!

Ning Zhiyuan could only block frantically, forced back several steps in succession!

Seeing this, the onlookers gasped, and the entire Martial Arena erupted into chaos!

"No way, this is insane!"

"This... what sword technique is this guy using?"

"Qin Jue's sword is so fast it dazzles the eyes!"

"Am I seeing things? Ning Zhiyuan is getting beaten down!"

On the High Platform, Chu Hanjiang's eyes flickered with a sharp light. He opened his eyes slightly, a hint of gravity in his gaze. "Interesting... this sword momentum has some real skill behind it."

Yun Qianyue also furrowed her brows slightly, a trace of surprise in her cool voice. "The sword momentum flows without break, three strikes like one... He's actually trained the first stance of the Tide Rising Sword Technique to this level? He does have some ability."

Ning Zhiyuan retreated three steps, barely managing to steady himself!

The sneer on his face froze instantly!

His eyes were filled with utter disbelief!

He, a dignified Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer cultivator wielding a Mortal Tier High-grade Cultivation Method and martial skill, had actually been suppressed by Qin Jue, who was only at Hundred Refinements Third Layer, in their very first exchange!?

This is impossible!

Realizing this, Ning Zhiyuan felt a surge of rage boiling in his chest, anger rushing straight to his head!

"Impossible!"

He bellowed, and thunderous sounds erupted within his body!

"Boom—rumble—"

The sound of bones vibrating rolled like muffled thunder!

His aura suddenly skyrocketed, the blood energy throughout his body fully exploding, and a faint bloody light shimmered across his war blade!

"Qin Jue! You have thoroughly angered me!"

Ning Zhiyuan gritted his teeth, his facial muscles already twisted, his eyes filled with ferocity!

"I'll make you understand what a true gap in strength really means!"

As his words fell, he suddenly exerted force from his feet, his entire body launching upward like a cannonball, charging forward!