Undercurrents at the Tournament

"Hahaha, welcome, you two! Come up and take your seats!"

As the host, Feng Tengyun rose to his feet and called out in welcome.

Li Qingliang frowned at his words. The Martial Hall Tournament was a grand event among martial halls.

Since when had the Four Great Families and the merchant guild been allowed to take part?

And there were two extra seats. Had this been arranged long ago? Why had he not known about it?

"Brother Feng, isn't it inappropriate for them to participate?"

"That is not so." Feng Tengyun turned around and patiently explained, "They all have juniors training at our martial halls. What is wrong with letting those juniors participate?"

"This..." Li Qingliang was immediately left speechless.

"Brother Li, there's nothing bad about it. More people means more excitement!"

"Exactly, Brother Li. Stop fussing over it. Don't you have disciples from lineages too?"

"Hehe, sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. It all comes down to ability anyway. Only you, old dog Li, are so meddlesome!"

The other martial hall masters chimed in agreement, while Wan Ting openly mocked him.

"Wan Ting, you...!" Li Qingliang slapped his chair and rose, glaring furiously at Wan Ting.

Wan Ting gave a cold smile, utterly unafraid.

"Enough, calm down. Don't let the disciples see you make fools of yourselves."

Feng Tengyun stepped between them, playing peacemaker.

"Hmph!"

The two also knew this was not the time to tear their faces apart. They snorted coldly and turned their heads away at the same time.

Long Teng and Song Changsheng arrived at the grand viewing platform just then.

The martial hall masters all rose to greet them, exceptionally warm and welcoming.

"Three against three. Those old fellows really have been won over?"

Li Qingliang was sharp-eyed and quickly spotted the clues.

The two men appeared to have each won over three martial halls. Now, only he, Ning Song, Zhao Minjing, and Feng Tengyun remained on the platform without declaring their stance.

Feng Tengyun had no intention of offending either side, while Ning Song and Zhao Minjing, like himself, remained neither warm nor cold.

"The martial halls may not be able to stay out of this either."

Li Qingliang sighed inwardly. Both factions had approached him in recent days, and he had turned them both away.

Yet he had not expected the other martial hall masters, his peers, to have already chosen sides one after another.

Thinking of this, he looked toward Ning Song and Zhao Minjing. The two were old foxes as well, and they immediately looked back.

The three exchanged glances, each seeing a trace of helplessness in the others' eyes.

"It's time to find a way out."

Li Qingliang absolutely did not want his martial hall dragged into a struggle between factions, but that was easier said than done.

Undercurrents surged across the grand viewing platform. In such an atmosphere, Feng Tengyun exchanged a few pleasantries before announcing the official start of the Martial Hall Tournament!

Although the arrival of the two factions had made the mood somewhat awkward.

Once the tournament began, however, the atmosphere quickly grew lively again.

The rules were simple. Anyone who won three matches on the arena advanced, and only the first twenty-four would move on to the next round.

As long as they could still fight, even those who lost could challenge again for three victories, until all the spots had been filled.

In other words, they needed not only strength, but speed as well.

If they were too slow, there would be no spots left.

In an instant, people stepped onto all the arenas, all of them confident in their own strength.

"Look, Zhang Chong is up there."

"Gasp, Shui Yunyue actually went up too."

"Quick, look! That's Iron Mountain from Stonewall Martial Hall. He's huge!"

"They're all outstanding figures of the Organ Refinement Realm!"

"..."

Discussion filled the stands, all of it affirming the strength of those who had taken the stage.

As the saying went, a tree's shadow followed its name. Whether it was Zhang Chong, Shui Yunyue, or the later entrants Xiang Yang, Yang Qi, and Bai Yu, all of them easily secured three victories and advanced.

Before long, only half of the twenty-four spots remained.

Zhou Muyun did not take the stage immediately. Instead, he sat steadily in the stands, taking everything in.

Sometimes, observing an opponent's techniques was also a means to victory.

After all, his goal was not merely one of the advancing spots.

In the meantime, he also spoke with Leng Ni, who had come with Song Changsheng.

As a martial hall disciple, Leng Ni could have come on her own!

There had to be something suspicious behind this.

When Zhou Muyun asked why, Leng Ni hesitated, stopping and starting before finally forcing out a single sentence.

"Lineage orders. I have no choice but to obey."

Though the sentence contained only eight words, it gave Zhou Muyun a great deal of information.

That was, the conflict between the merchant guild and the Four Great Families had likely already descended into an abyss.

"Look! Someone's going to die!"

"Long Qian is too ruthless. This is only an arena match, how could he strike so heavily?"

"Shh, who told them to be enemies now?"

A wave of discussion rose from the stands, and Zhou Muyun looked toward the source.

Li Buhui, who was usually arrogant and had even bullied him before, now lay beneath the arena like a heap of mud.

His arms were twisted out of shape, and there were two deep indentations in his chest. He was completely unconscious.

"Make way, make way!"

The medical staff invited to the Martial Hall Tournament hurried to the arena, placed Li Buhui on a stretcher, and carried him away for treatment.

"Good. That saves me trouble later."

Zhou Muyun had never liked Li Buhui. Seeing him in such a state, he only felt that he deserved it.

Long Qian then won three matches in succession and advanced smoothly.

Worth mentioning was that whenever he faced juniors from the Four Great Families, he crippled them again.

Yet when he faced martial hall disciples, he stopped at the proper point and showed considerable restraint.

Having seen it all, Zhou Muyun formed a guess.

The two factions were using the Martial Hall Tournament to sever the other side's younger generation!

What exactly had happened? Even if it was a struggle for interests, was this not going too far?

Zhou Muyun could not make heads or tails of it, so he simply stopped thinking about it.

Seeing the remaining spots gradually dwindle, he entered the arena as well.

To conceal his true abilities, he used only Flurry Fist against his opponents, controlling his strength just right.

He neither displayed crushing superiority nor won too easily.

With three victories in hand, he advanced smoothly.

The struggle for the remaining spots grew even more brutal.

Whether deliberately or merely by coincidence.

The clashes between merchant guild juniors and the Four Great Families' juniors became increasingly frequent.

This gave the tournament a strange atmosphere.

Whenever a fight did not involve these two factions, it was merely mutual sparring. Both sides knew their limits, and serious injuries were rare.

But whenever it did, every strike was aimed at killing, every move vicious, as if they wanted to slaughter the opponent on the spot.

The atmosphere on the grand viewing platform was equally varied.

The martial hall masters chatted happily, occasionally bursting into loud laughter. Their own disciples had advanced, bringing glory to their faces.

Long Teng and Song Changsheng, by contrast, merely went along with them.

Yet their expressions grew darker and darker. Song Changsheng in particular was raging inwardly.

They're all useless trash. They get whatever they want on ordinary days, yet they drop the chain at the critical moment!

Long Teng's expression was somewhat better, but he was still irritated.

If not for the precious medicine bestowed by the Cult Master, this really might not have gone so well.

The casualties among the younger generation had exceeded even his expectations.

But everyone had voted on this decision, so there was nothing he could do.

Fortunately, Long Qian had not encountered any problems.

The two had brought their lineage juniors here because of an agreement between both sides.

Whichever lineage's juniors earned the higher-ranking spots would gain all the business in West Market.

The younger generation might be the future of a lineage, but if the lineage itself was about to vanish, what future could there be?

At the same time, both lineages had thought of the same thing: using this opportunity to cripple more of the other side's people.

Soon, half a day passed.

As the final spot was claimed by Song He of the Song Household, the first round of the Martial Hall Tournament officially ended.

Because the first round had so many participants, it had taken the entire morning. The second round would begin in the afternoon.

Starting from the second round, matches would be decided by drawing lots, with those who drew the same number facing each other.