Unexpected IV

Buzz.

Now that the winner had been decided, everyone in the stands erupted into a buzz.

Everyone had seen victories before, but this way of winning was a first for them all.

Standing on the platform, Lin Hui saw that the spectators around him seemed to have been stirred up by his victory. Even the elders of the Ming generation and Daoist Baohe in the main section were discussing something among themselves.

Looks like I still stood out a little too much. But it's fine. Soon enough, everyone will see that I'm about as weak as the others. Everyone in the top ten is fairly strong. Calmly, he held his sword and waited for the next person to take the stage.

"Fourteenth place, You Wushuang, please take the stage!" the young Daoist announced.

You Wushuang was a black-haired woman wearing glasses. Carrying a black sword, she stepped onto the platform with a wary expression.

The moment the gong sounded, she swiftly drew her sword. The Nine Section Fast Sword came at Lin Hui with madly ferocious force, clearly intending to give him no time to recover his strength.

But...

Clang clang clang clang!!

A dense barrage of impacts burst like raindrops. Amid the scattering snowflakes, You Wushuang circled Lin Hui and struck out wildly, yet every slash seemed to hit a wall, producing only clear, ringing clashes.

No matter which direction she attacked from, the result was the same.

He did not even turn around. Standing there without moving, he casually struck forward, back, left, and right with one hand, precisely blocking every one of her moves.

Soon, fifty strikes had passed.

Sixty strikes.

Eighty strikes.

A hundred strikes!

Clang!

With one moment of carelessness, the blade in You Wushuang's hand went limp and was jolted from her grasp, flying away to land in a corner of the platform.

She stood there blankly, her wrist reddened and her face ugly with humiliation.

"You can pick it up and continue," Lin Hui said softly from across from her.

Pick it up?!

W-What kind of joke was that?!

You Wushuang's ears buzzed. As she looked at the countless gazes cast her way, her face grew redder and redder, her breathing more and more ragged.

Aah!!

Suddenly, she turned, leaped off the platform, and fled at a dead run, not even taking her sword with her.

The surrounding stands fell silent, all stunned by this unexpected turn.

In the main section of the stands.

Daoist Baohe wore an appreciative expression as he stroked the white beard on his chin.

"His Nine Section Fast Sword is nothing special, but his precision with the sword is extremely high. You can tell his fundamentals were forged solidly when he practiced the Seven Section Fast Sword."

"His understanding of the sword also far surpasses everyone else's. There's no need to watch anyone below the top ten," Ming Chen said from beside him, nodding in agreement. "Whose young talent is this? How did we never notice him before?"

Clearly, he had once again, once again, once again forgotten Lin Hui, whom he had met twice before.

"He isn't from any family. He's the descendant of an old friend of mine," Mingde said with a chuckle from his seat. He had never expected this grand competition, little different from those of previous years, to give him such a pleasant surprise.

That boy Lin Hui—he had never realized before that his foundations were so solid. Then, without warning, the boy had unveiled something huge on the platform.

He had truly made Mingde look good!

"With talent for comprehension like this, he can be listed as an observation candidate. He hasn't taken a master yet, has he?" Daoist Ming Xiu said, holding his wine cup, a trace of interest showing in his words.

He had always lacked a true final disciple who could shoulder responsibility.

"When this old man first brought him into the sect, I never expected him to have such decent potential," Mingde said, immediately sensing something amiss and making his claim clear.

"I haven't even said anything, and you're already getting anxious..." Ming Xiu said speechlessly.

"Hehe, haven't I been burned once before?" Mingde laughed, glancing at Daoist Baohe.

Chen Sui had actually been discovered by him in the first place. Yet before he could even open his mouth, the boy had been taken by the abbey master...

And now, seeing Chen Sui at the ninth rank of Body Tempering, with his swordsmanship capable of breaking through its shackles and entering the Inner Strength Realm at any moment, Mingde's heart ached terribly.

"Though he's not bad, he only has potential. Compared with Huang Shan, Qiu Yiren, and Wu Cheng, he still falls short. After all, using the Seven Section Fast Sword for Body Tempering is still inferior to the Clear Sword Technique. The earlier one undergoes Body Tempering, the better the results, and the greater the gap will become." Daoist Baohe chuckled. "So there's no need for you to fight over him. Huang Shan and Qiu Yiren, one each. As for this Lin Hui, don't compete with Mingde for him."

Known throughout the abbey for his good temper, Daoist Baohe stepped in to smooth things over. The three elders of the Ming generation could not continue arguing, and immediately settled down to keep watching the platform.

By then, another person had already stepped onto the platform and was exchanging blows with Lin Hui.

This opponent was much stronger than the last. His Body Tempering had reached the third rank.

His Nine Section Fast Sword was also exceedingly polished, and his understanding ran deep. Swift, ruthless, and precise—his moves lacked none of these qualities.

Lin Hui no longer merely defended, instead trading attacks back and forth with him.

Around two minutes later, there was a soft sound. That man's sword was jolted from his hand, and he took a step back. A small cut had appeared on the side of his wrist.

"Thank you, Junior Brother Lin, for showing mercy."

"Much obliged."

Lin Hui clasped his fists, his breathing somewhat hurried now as well.

Three opponents in a row was no small challenge to his stamina. He had thought taking on four consecutively would be no problem, but now it seemed he had been pushing himself too hard.

"Next, tenth-ranked Ouyang Zhong." Even the young Daoist's voice had grown hoarse from shouting.

A gong rang out.

Amid a piercing whoosh, a figure soared into the air, cleared the railing, and landed steadily on the arena.

This was clearly not Qingfeng Temple's movement technique, immediately stirring discussion among the surrounding stands.

"Qingfeng Temple does not forbid its disciples from learning martial arts from elsewhere. Ouyang Zhong inherited his family's martial arts and came here already skilled. Nor is he the only one—several among the top ten are like that. Second Senior Brother Zhao Jiang'an, for instance, has fused several schools of martial arts into one and is immensely strong, second only to Eldest Senior Brother Chen Sui." In the stands, Deputy Director Yu Zhenhao softly explained to Director Ning Shaolang.

"Then Lin Hui is in danger. From what you said, he only began practicing martial arts midway through life, and his merchant family has no inherited martial arts." Ning Shaolang said thoughtfully.

"Indeed. External martial arts schools differ greatly from the internal martial sect you came from. The more martial arts an external practitioner learns, the stronger they become, while internal schools emphasize purity. Their focuses are naturally different." Deputy Director Yu Zhenhao nodded in agreement.

At this point, they were not the only ones discussing it. The vast majority of spectators in the surrounding stands had been drawn in by Lin Hui's string of victories.

Some had even begun guessing how many more matches he could win—whether five straight victories might be possible.

Chen Zhishen sat in the distant stands with A Hu beside him, both watching the arena nervously.

"See that? Is your Uncle Lin strong or what?"

"Strong!"

"I'm telling you, even if he loses this match, your Uncle Lin would still have fought a glorious defeat. How long has he been practicing martial arts? Ouyang Zhong has trained since childhood, for more than ten years now. They're simply not on the same level." Chen Zhishen lowered his voice.

"Uncle, why are you more nervous than the people onstage?" A Hu asked in confusion.

"Because this match is crucial! If he wins, he'll enter the top ten. Your Uncle Lin will really strike it rich this time!"

Chen Zhishen clenched his fists, feeling his palms slick with sweat.

The top ten! The title of one of Qingfeng Temple's top ten elites carried enough weight to make even some of Outer City's small gray-market organizations wary, and it would put them on the Security Office's priority watch list.

Some wealthy households and great clans would also focus their attention on them, investing resources early in order to forge connections.

After all, today's top ten were very likely to attain the strength and status of the Ming generation in the future.

In this Outer City district where dragons and snakes mingled, such martial strength was already far from weak.

Beyond all that, the most important thing was that the top ten could take up posts at the Security Office, gain official status, and then receive tax exemptions and corvée exemptions.

Chen Zhishen knew all too well that, as a farmer's son living at the bottom of society, he had long vaguely realized that the lives of those at the bottom were not considered lives at all.

When exploring the Mist, the authorities needed people to lead the way. It was common enough for them to casually seize a few commoners living along the Mist's edge and make them scout ahead.

If they died, they died. A little compensation money was enough to settle the matter.

Whenever the yamen needed to build something, they would forcibly conscript laborers from among the common folk. And that was not all—the laborers had to bring their own rations, and once they left, they would be gone for months. They missed the farming season, and by year's end their fields yielded not a single grain. They could only survive on stored provisions.

Those without stores could only sell their sons and daughters, their lives bitter beyond endurance.

Even so, commoners had no way to flee, because the Mist completely sealed off every route of escape. Without a large merchant caravan to lead the way, fleeing would only mean death.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Chen Zhishen looked toward the arena. Watching Lin Hui's figure as he continued to trade blows, he silently cheered him on.

On the arena.

Lin Hui parried left and blocked right. He and his opponent fought to a standstill, and both retreated a step, breathing heavily.

"Top ten, and I'm just one step away from five straight victories. Why not do a good deed, Senior Brother, and yield this one to me?" Lin Hui said softly.

"Junior Brother is already so exhausted, yet you still insist on holding on. Why make things so hard on yourself? It is only a place in the top ten—is it worth fighting this desperately for?" Ouyang Zhong practiced his family's inherited martial arts. His stamina was formidable, and his leg techniques exquisite. Combined with his swordsmanship, they placed immense pressure on Lin Hui.

"Senior Brother's family is quite wealthy, so naturally you do not think much of a top-ten status. But I am different. The temptation of the top ten and five consecutive victories is too great. I have no choice but to strive for it..." Lin Hui said earnestly.

"Junior Brother, that is not right. The top ten are determined entirely by strength. If we were to rely on yielding, why hold a grand competition at all? Why not just discuss it among ourselves beneath the stage and politely yield the rankings to one another?" Ouyang Zhong sighed.

"Senior Brother..." A trace of difficulty suddenly appeared on Lin Hui's face. "Very well... For the sake of the top ten, this junior brother has no choice but to offend you."

Once he understood what the top ten meant, and now that he was only one step away, the bottom line in his heart began to waver.

Use it once.

Just once. Secure a place in the top ten and five straight victories—that would be enough.

"Actually, this junior brother was born with just a little more explosive power than ordinary people."

Lin Hui quickly made his decision. He would use Lightness once; an instant would be enough. As long as it was not too exaggerated, he could explain the increase in sword speed as a burst of potential.

"Explosive power? Then let us see just how strong the explosive power Junior Brother speaks of is." Before Ouyang Zhong's words had even faded, his sword was already in motion, thrusting at lightning speed toward Lin Hui's waist.

As the sword tip trembled, several potential follow-up changes completely sealed off every direction in which Lin Hui could evade.

This swordsmanship was on an entirely different level from that of his previous opponents. It truly had reached roughly the same level as Lin Hui's current strength.

Hah!!

Just then, Lin Hui suddenly let out a fierce roar.

His sword shadow swept upward. In an instant, the sword's speed surged, as though all the strength in his body were being poured into the blade.

The sword rose from below. Before it even reached him, it whipped up a piercing sword wind that made Ouyang Zhong's chest and abdomen go numb.

Special Effect: Light Body, activate!

Lin Hui's arm became a blur in an instant, and the speed of his sword swing more than doubled at that moment!

The terrifying sword speed left his opponent with no time to react—no way to block, no way to dodge!

Ouyang Zhong could only stand there stiffly, halting his own sword strike. He remained rooted to the spot, head thrown back, watching the silver sword shadow flash past before his eyes.

Sshh!!!

The sword shadow swept across before him, severing several strands of black hair and tearing toward the sky with a shrill whistle. It had come within a hair's breadth of splitting him in two.