An Unexpected Turn III

Fine snow drifted down. The ground of the square arena had been padded with layer upon layer of thick brown animal hides, while thick black ropes formed railings on all four sides.

"There are twenty-four Front Courtyard disciples remaining to watch. Based on the previous rankings, they will begin dueling from the bottom. Anyone who wins five consecutive matches will receive a special prize personally designated by the temple master!"

The young Daoist girl who had sung earlier carried a bronze gong, struck it once, and began announcing the simple rules for the matches.

Among the crowd below, the twenty-four Front Courtyard disciples all consciously moved forward. They had changed into white Daoist robes, making them especially conspicuous amid the crowd.

Senior Brother Chen Sui stood at the very front, holding his sword in both arms as he waited quietly.

Behind him, Mu Qiao Zhi was talking with Huang Shan and Qiu Yiren.

Further back stood Wu Cheng and Chen Chong.

Wu Cheng looked confident. He was powerfully built, his black hair tied high, his smile bright as sunlight. His bronze skin, set off by the silver-white longsword, gave him an air of overflowing vitality.

Chen Chong, meanwhile, wore a gloomy expression, looking deeply troubled. Clearly, he had yet to recover from his previous match against Lin Hui.

The Front Courtyard disciples behind the two were far more low-key, and much more relaxed. Neither the men nor women seemed under much pressure. Some were even quietly flirting and teasing each other, stifling soft laughter.

As a newly promoted disciple, Lin Hui stood in the last group. Only three or four people stood behind him, disciples who had advanced even later than he had.

At that moment, he was listening to two male disciples a little ahead of him discussing the tournament.

"Looking at it this way, whoever goes up first in the tournament gets the short end of the stick..."

"That's why there's a special reward for five straight wins—to make up for it. This is a celebration to begin with, and the rankings start from the bottom. That means Senior Brother and the strongest few go on last. The later you go up, the less likely you are to get five consecutive wins."

"So the earlier ones fight for five straight wins, while the later ones can only compete for the rewards based on the top ten rankings?"

"More or less. Who's going first in a bit?"

"Xu Kaizhi, who advanced just last month. He's from Mengshan Town. He'll go first to warm things up."

"Him? Whoever comes before him is really getting a bargain."

The two chatted quietly while Lin Hui calmly adjusted his condition. He too was curious just how far he could fight his way onstage.

In theory, the Clear Sword Technique relied on speed to win, so a succession of matches did not actually drain much stamina.

Unless a fight dragged on too long, or one used secret techniques or high-consumption abilities such as the light-body effect, fighting three or four matches was not particularly taxing.

"Looking at it this way, ranked fifteenth as I am, I might be able to fight for five straight wins..."

Lin Hui lightly gripped the sword hilt at his waist, loosened his five fingers, then clenched them again, repeating the motion.

"Ranked twenty-fourth, Yu Fan, please take the stage."

At that moment, the Daoist child onstage loudly called out the first name.

Around the surrounding stands, people gradually began taking their seats as well. Among the more conspicuous arrivals were the chief and deputy chief of Xinyu Town's security office, along with the heads of several prominent town families. Laughing and chatting, they each took the seats marked with wooden plaques bearing their names, while Daoist children served them tea one by one.

With a rustle, the enormous gray canopy overhead was spread open, covering part of the stands and shielding these relatively distinguished guests from the fine snow.

Yu Fan, ranked twenty-fourth, stood several paces behind Lin Hui. Hearing his name, he gripped his sword and quickly ascended the wooden steps at the side. On the arena, he bowed toward Temple Master Daoist Baohe and the Daoists of the Ming generation, then clasped his fists toward the security office chief and the other guests. After that, he stood quietly at one end with his sword held in his arms, waiting for his opponent.

"Ranked twenty-third, Zhang Yuanchun, please take the stage!"

At the call, a white-haired young woman carrying a sword leapt up onto the arena.

"Please enlighten me."

The two wasted no words. They immediately clasped fists toward each other, drew their swords, and tossed away their scabbards.

Then their figures flashed at the same time, slashing toward one another.

Clang.

The two swords crossed, then swiftly slid apart.

The Nine Section Fast Sword unfolded at once. Sword shadows flickered around the pair like two gray serpents, endlessly stabbing, tapping, slashing, turning, and blocking against one another.

"This sort of swordsmanship is truly dangerous. One careless stab, and there'll be a bloody hole. Qingfeng Taoist Temple's fast sword truly lives up to its reputation," Security Office Chief Ning Shaoling remarked, stroking his beard.

He was thirty-nine this year and had only come from the Inner City to take up his post at Xinyu Town's security office this year. He had accepted the invitation chiefly because Qingfeng Taoist Temple was considered the strongest martial school in Xinyu Town, so he had come to show them respect. He had not expected the very first match to make him feel that the trip had been worthwhile.

"This is Qingfeng Temple's Nine Section Fast Sword. It emphasizes speed, with most of its moves consisting of point thrusts, stabs, slashes, and turns. It lays the foundation for the Clear Sword Technique later on," Deputy Chief Yu Zhenhao explained softly. He had served in Xinyu Town for many years and was very familiar with Qingfeng Temple.

"This kind of fast sword is actually quite suitable for work in the security office. When dealing with troublemakers, it can subdue someone with a single sword in the shortest time. Because it is swift and precise, it will not cause excessive harm either. That Feiyun Fist from before always left people with internal injuries, which was far more troublesome," Chief Ning Shaoling said thoughtfully.

"Indeed. Qingfeng Temple's cooperation with us has always been quite stable," the deputy chief agreed.

"Then this time, hire three more people from here for the Emergency Response Squad. Extend invitations three places beyond the Front Courtyard rankings," Ning Shaoling said in a low voice.

"For the Emergency Response Squad, adding three people at once might be a bit..." The deputy chief hesitated.

"Recently, there have been more and more outsiders in the Outer City district. Public security is under considerable pressure. More hands are always better," Ning Shaoling explained.

The Emergency Response Squad received excellent待遇, but that was not the key point. The key was that this post carried temporary execution authority. When something happened, they could deal with it first on their own before reporting it.

As long as that authority was not used against Inner City residents, even accidentally killing someone through a slip of the hand would not cause any trouble.

That was why the deputy chief had hesitated.

"Enough. Watch the arena. They're about to decide the victor," Ning Shaoling said with a smile, cutting off the deputy chief before he could continue.

On the arena, the battle between the two had reached its end. The two sword shadows clashed at blinding speed dozens of times, then swung apart and returned to their respective owners' hands.

Whoosh!

Just then, Zhang Yuanchun stepped forward from the left. Her longsword spun into a cone of light, sweeping toward her opponent's upper body.

Xu Kaizhi tried to block, but his wrist suddenly went weak, and he failed to put any force behind it.

Clang!

The longsword in his hand was twisted away and flung aside. A silver blade then hovered motionlessly before his chest.

"Thank you for letting me win," Zhang Yuanchun said loudly between gasps.

"Zhang Yuanchun wins!" the Daoist boy shouted from the side.

This outcome had been expected. A higher-ranked fighter defeating a lower-ranked one was perfectly normal.

But then the twenty-second-ranked contestant took the stage and was knocked down by Zhang Yuanchun after only a few exchanges, which surprised everyone somewhat.

Then came twenty-first, then twentieth, and all of them were defeated and sent off the stage. Though Zhang Yuanchun was already utterly exhausted, she still forced herself to remain standing on the platform.

Below the stage, Lin Hui quietly watched the woman, estimating how many moves it would take him to defeat her if he used only ordinary strength.

Judging by the lingering afterimages when Zhang Yuanchun attacked, she had already reached the second rank of Body Tempering.

Being able to win so many consecutive matches at this level had much to do with her understanding of swordsmanship. After all, her Body Tempering cultivation itself was not an advantage.

Soon, another person took the stage. This time, Zhang Yuanchun finally could not hold on any longer. She was knocked off in three moves, falling to the ground before being carried away by two people.

Yet everyone around her gave her thunderous applause.

The subsequent matches were unpredictable. One fighter replaced another, and no one managed to win two matches in a row.

At last, Lin Hui heard his ranking called.

"Rank fifteen, Lin Hui!"

Lin Hui tightened his grip on his sword hilt and walked onto the stage step by step, his expression calm.

Hiss.

He drew his sword and tossed the scabbard aside, hearing Chen Zhishen's cheers from afar at the same time.

His opponent was a young man ranked sixteenth. With sword-like brows and starry eyes, he was rather handsome. Compared to the ordinary-looking Lin Hui, he was far more popular among the female disciples below the stage.

"Rank sixteen, Feng Cheng'an. Please enlighten me, Senior Brother." The other man clasped his fists toward him.

"Rank fifteen, Lin Hui. Please, Junior Brother." Lin Hui lowered his sword tip toward the ground.

He had watched the other man fight below the stage and knew his level. At most, he was at the second rank of Body Tempering—nothing challenging.

In a true fight to the death, the other man might not even be enough to warm him up.

Then I'll focus on defense. I'll treat this as training my defensive ability.

That was what he told himself.

Ending the fight too quickly would offend people too much. The earlier matches had all taken quite a few exchanges to determine a winner; if his ended in an instant, it would be far too abrupt and conspicuous.

Lin Hui did not like standing out.

So, he decided to end the battle gently.

Clang!

The instant the bronze gong signaling the start of the fight sounded—

Feng Cheng'an thrust out with all his strength. The Nine Section Fast Sword erupted with gray sword shadows, stabbing fiercely toward Lin Hui's right shoulder at a speed just a fraction faster than before.

Clang!

Unfortunately, as if by pure coincidence, Lin Hui blocked the strike with a backhand grip on his sword.

Without hesitation, Feng Cheng'an withdrew his blade, gathered his breath, and switched moves in an instant, stabbing toward Lin Hui's abdomen.

Clang!

Another crisp ring rang out.

Feng Cheng'an's expression changed slightly. He switched moves again, his sword shadows transforming into a gray serpent as he launched attack after attack.

Clang clang clang clang!!

What was strange was that no matter how he attacked, his sword shadows would abruptly freeze beside Lin Hui before being knocked aside.

Lin Hui stood rooted in place. The longsword in his hand became a nearly invisible gray line, floating and dancing as it blocked every flash of sword light that tried to approach him.

The clinking clashes rang out in an unbroken stream like music, exploding one after another at an ever-increasing pace.

Lin Hui's expression did not change. He had not even shifted his feet a fraction, merely standing where he was and precisely sweeping aside every sword strike and every move from his opponent.

Half a minute later...

The murmurs and clamor that had filled the surrounding stands had somehow long since fallen silent.

Lin Hui narrowed his eyes slightly. The longsword in his hand suddenly rose upright and stopped, blocking the tip of Feng Cheng'an's sword as it stabbed toward his brow.

Clink.

Amid the soft sound, he looked at Feng Cheng'an across from him, who was panting heavily with disbelief written all over his face.

He stretched out his free left hand, suddenly thrust out his index finger, using it as a sword, and lightly tapped.

It landed between his opponent's brows.

Thud.

Feng Cheng'an could no longer hold on. He staggered back several steps and collapsed onto the ground.

He had just erupted with everything he had, launching over a hundred fierce sword strikes in one breath, every single one at full force, but...

His face was flushed red, almost purple. His lungs heaved like bellows, pumping frantically.

"Next." Lin Hui's voice rang out, as though he had not moved at all.

Feng Cheng'an tried to get up, but he simply could not. He had exhausted all his strength. In the end, two logistics Daoists had to carry him off the platform.