What Was His Strength Like?

The Coiling Dragon Continent had a long-standing tradition: every year, as the New Year approached, nearly every faction, large or small, held some kind of ceremony to honor its ancestors. The Cloud Saint Sect was no exception.

This year, however, in addition to the ancestor-worship ceremony, the Cloud Saint Sect had arranged a Sect Selection Tournament. The Youth Marquis Tournament, held once every ten years, would take place the following spring, and the sect needed to prepare.

Yunli Kingdom had always been governed through martial strength. Every ten years, it held a nationwide tournament for young people. The top ten contestants received tremendous rewards: not only gold and silver, but titles and high office as well. Anyone who broke into the top ten could be said to soar straight into the heavens.

The tournament had few restrictions, and nearly all Spirit Cultivators could enter, so long as they were no older than thirty.

As one of Yunli Kingdom's first-rate powers, the Cloud Saint Sect had been allotted ten spots in the final qualifying tournament. Ordinary Spirit Cultivators who wanted to enter the Youth Marquis Tournament had to endure a lengthy, grueling preliminary trial first. Only after qualifying could they compete for one of the 320 places in the final tournament.

For that reason, the Cloud Saint Sect planned to hold its own selection tournament. The top ten disciples would earn places in the national tournament's qualifying round. The process was simple and straightforward, showing the Cloud Saint Sect's generosity and fairness.

That day, after Sanbao and his master finished refining weapons, Jing Yifei handed Sanbao a notice for the Sect Selection Tournament. It was scheduled for three days later.

"The Youth Marquis Tournament? I'm under thirty, but what chance do I have?" Sanbao smiled. He clearly wasn't interested.

"Sanbao, go sign up. You've been cultivating at Fire Cloud Peak for over a year now. Your cultivation has risen quickly, but you lack real combat experience. This will broaden your horizons, and you have nothing to lose."

Sanbao had been at the Cloud Saint Sect for over a year. Apart from attending an elder's lecture at Cloud Saint Square once a month, he rarely left Fire Cloud Hall, devoting himself entirely to cultivation. Jing Yifei had seen it all and understood both the advantages and the drawbacks, so he urged Sanbao to go.

"Yes, Master."

Since Jing Yifei had asked, Sanbao naturally agreed. It would be good to broaden his horizons.

Following a mountain path, Sanbao arrived at Cloud Saint Hall, the Cloud Saint Sect's main peak.

Cloud Saint Hall was the heart of the entire sect. It covered a vast area and contained many buildings, but most sect business was handled in the main hall at its center. Registration for the Sect Selection Tournament was no different. Sanbao had been there more than ten times and knew his way around. As he neared the hall, a hubbub spilled out from within, filling the place with noise and excitement.

"Hey, isn't that Junior Brother Luo Sanbao?" A large hand suddenly landed on Sanbao's shoulder from behind. He whipped around and looked at the man in confusion.

"Senior Brother, do I know you?"

"Of course you do! We joined the sect together a year ago. We were both among the eighteen people left behind after the final test. Don't you remember me?" the stranger explained.

"I really don't. How do you know me?" Sanbao shook his head.

"Oh, you were the youngest of the eighteen, and you seemed unusually composed, so you made a strong impression on me. Later, I asked around and found out you'd become Elder Jing's disciple. I felt sorry for you at the time. Who would've thought that after a year apart, you'd not only grown a lot taller, but gotten so much stronger, too? Oh, I've been talking so long I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Wang Liang, a disciple of Elder Zhao Youdao. You know Elder Zhao, right? He's one of the most powerful figures in the Cloud Saint Sect..."

"Don't worry, Junior Brother Sanbao. If anything good comes up in the future, I'll be sure to include you..."

As Wang Liang spoke, he ushered Sanbao into the hall, acting as though they'd been brothers for years.

At first, Wang Liang's overly familiar manner made Sanbao a little uncomfortable, but he soon got used to it. The man seemed somewhat opportunistic, but he was probably decent at heart.

As they chatted, they discovered they had both come to register for the tournament. Wang Liang was remarkably talented, too. Before joining the sect, he had only been a two-star Spirit Scholar, but now he was a five-star Spirit Scholar. He'd advanced three levels in just over a year, a pace that left even Sanbao feeling inferior.

Like Sanbao, Wang Liang wasn't entering with any expectation of qualifying; he just wanted the experience. After all, among those under thirty at the Cloud Saint Sect, the tournament was a stage for core disciples. Some of the Spirit Commander guardians weren't even thirty yet. Spirit Scholars who entered could only serve as a backdrop.

The final registration count, however, came as a huge surprise to Sanbao. There were 230 contestants in all, and more than a hundred of them were Spirit Scholars. It seemed plenty of new disciples shared Sanbao's thinking.

That gave Sanbao something to consider. If his opponents were only Spirit Scholars, he couldn't afford to lose. If he ran into a Spirit General, he could only leave it to fate.

At that point, Sanbao still didn't have a very good grasp of his overall strength.

Sanbao, who had painstakingly refined both metal- and fire-element spiritual power, had spiritual energy several times more potent than that of cultivators at the same level. With the innate talent of the Purple-Eyed Golden Roc, his physical strength also far surpassed that of ordinary cultivators at his level. Even without using the Luo family's advanced spirit skills, he was no opponent an ordinary cultivator of the same rank could withstand.

If he truly went all out, he could even put up a fight against an ordinary low-ranking Spirit General. Of course, Sanbao didn't know this. For now, his goal was simply not to lose to opponents of the same rank.

Three days later, the selection tournament officially began. The rules were simple: of the 230 contestants, a handful of powerful Spirit Commanders would receive first-round byes. The rest would draw opponents at random. The winners advanced to the next round, and the process continued until the top ten had been determined.

Since this was an internal competition within the sect, there generally wouldn't be any danger to life. Of course, blades and swords showed no mercy, so some injuries were inevitable.

When the first-round draw was announced, Sanbao's opponent turned out to be a five-star Spirit Scholar.

After they were matched, both of them were delighted, thinking to themselves that they'd gotten pretty lucky.

Seeing that Sanbao was not yet fifteen, his opponent, a hawk-eyed young man, seemed to underestimate him. "You're still young, Junior Brother. I'll let you have the first three moves."

Sanbao had no idea how strong he was, but since his opponent was being so arrogant, he didn't hold back. His hands flashed through a series of movements, forming layer upon layer of palm shadows—Golden Sand Palm.

The hawk-eyed young man had been standing with his sword in hand. Seeing how young Sanbao was, and that he was fighting barehanded, he let his guard down. Shifting his sword to his left hand, he spread the fingers of his right hand and struck out with a palm as well—Water Palm.

Clang, clang, clang...

The hawk-eyed young man stumbled back six or seven steps before managing to steady himself. Looking back, he saw he was only two feet from the edge of the battle circle. Two more steps and he would have lost. His chest felt tight, and his right palm was completely numb.

Clearly, he had completely misjudged Sanbao's strength. Sanbao was not only a five-star Spirit Scholar; his physical gifts far surpassed those of ordinary people.

Though both were five-star Spirit Scholars, Sanbao's spiritual power was at least twenty percent stronger than his opponent's. What's more, Sanbao had caught him off guard.

"What powerful spiritual energy! This is at least the strength of a peak five-star Spirit Scholar." Only then did the hawk-eyed young man come to his senses. He gripped his sword in both hands and focused completely.

"You're too kind." Having gained the upper hand with one move, Sanbao didn't relent in the slightest. He unleashed the Nine-Turn Golden Body footwork as layer upon layer of enormous palms surged toward his opponent.

Thud, thud...

Forced onto the defensive from the very first move, the hawk-eyed young man kept swinging his sword, barely fending off Sanbao's countless palm strikes. Fortunately, his sword was sharp, and Sanbao didn't dare meet its edge head-on, only slapping at it from the side. That slowed his attacks somewhat; otherwise, the hawk-eyed young man would probably have lost long ago.

Even so, he was completely on the back foot. The sword light could only protect part of his body, not all of it, and Sanbao's footwork was so unpredictable that he couldn't defend against it.

Pfft.

The instant a small gap appeared in the sword light, Sanbao's right palm slammed into the hawk-eyed young man's lower abdomen.

Clang, clang, clang.

The hawk-eyed young man staggered back several steps, aching all over from the blow. He was just about to swing his sword and attack again when the referee shouted, "Contestant number eighty-eight is out of bounds. Contestant number twenty-four wins."

Only then did Sanbao lower his hands and stand still. "Senior Brother, you were gracious."

"Hmph..."

The hawk-eyed young man felt humiliated. He snorted and quickly left without even asking Sanbao's name.

The first round of the selection tournament took place in the vast square in front of the Cloud Saint Hall. Nearly all the matches were held at the same time.

After defeating his opponent, Sanbao finally had time to watch the other matches. In just that short while, half the contests in the square had already ended. It seemed the competitors' strengths were quite unevenly matched.

One match in particular had drawn a large crowd of disciples around its arena. The two fighters seemed to be locked in a fierce battle.

Sanbao walked over and asked around, and learned that both contestants were core disciples, and their cultivation realms were exceptionally high: one was a four-star Spirit General, the other a five-star Spirit General. A matchup like this in the first round was naturally a major draw.

"Senior Brother Li, that's it! You've got this!" A small group of spectators shouted loudly, cheering for the five-star Spirit General in the arena.

"At this rate, Senior Brother Bai is bound to lose sooner or later..."

"Not necessarily. Look how skilled Senior Brother Bai's footwork is. He's just waiting for Senior Brother Li to run out of spiritual power. Then Senior Brother Bai can turn the tables and win."

Many people outside the arena were whispering among themselves.