The Martial Meet Begins! The Race for the Flag!

Their teamwork grew more seamless, their transitions between attack and defense smoother. Metal, wood, water, fire, and earth took turns surging forth, cycling without end.

The four defensive groups each guarded one direction, sealing the formation tight. Yan Kuanglan and Chu Qing supported them from the flanks, ready to reinforce any position.

Though they had not practiced the formation in more than ten days, the battle at Hundred Battles Peak had brought them closer.

They had also crossed blades often since then, learning one another's moves all the better.

They knew who liked to strike first, who excelled at counterattacks, whose blade was swift, and whose blows were heavy.

Now that they put the formation into motion, it flowed even more smoothly than before.

The moon climbed to the center of the sky. Its cold light washed over them, stretching their shadows long across the ground.

Li Bufan brought the formation to a halt. He swept his gaze over the others and cupped his fists. "Good! Our formation is even stronger than it was half a month ago. That's thanks to everyone's hard work. I, Li Bufan, will be the first to wish you all swift success tomorrow!" His voice rang firm as an oath.

Everyone cupped their fists and answered as one: "Blade Peak will prevail!" Their voices rang through the night sky and lingered.

Time passed swiftly. When dawn came, the horizon had only just turned pale as a fish's belly, and the first ray of sunlight pierced the clouds to fall upon the peaks of Songhe Gate.

Clang— A peal of bells rang through Songhe Gate, deep and sustained. It echoed among the peaks like immortal music descending from the ninth heaven.

The Nine Peaks Martial Meet had begun.

As the bells continued to ring, disciples streamed