Inside the Third Peak's Martial Arts Hall, bluestone paved the floor, and the vaulted ceiling hung high overhead.
Twenty disciples stood on opposite sides, their lines clearly divided.
On the left stood ten from Third Peak. Chen Mo stood at the front, his green robe crisp, though his face was slightly pale.
Qin Yuan stood at the very end, his gray robe plain and clean, his aura so restrained it was almost nonexistent.
On the right stood ten from Seventh Peak. Their leader, the blue-robed youth Li Xiu, stood with his hands behind his back, a faint smile playing at his lips.
The steward serving as referee stood in the center of the hall and said in a deep voice, "The usual rules. Each side sends ten people, who fight in turns. Whichever side wins more matches takes victory. Third Peak, decide your order of appearance."
Chen Mo turned around and exchanged glances with the others behind him.
"Senior Brother Chen, let's follow the plan," Wang Chuan said quietly. "You and I will go first and stabilize the first two matches."
Yet Zhao Qingwan looked worried. "Li Xiu already reached Great Perfection of the Twelfth Layer last year. After another year, he may well..."
"Shut up," Chen Mo said coldly. "Growing timid before the battle has even begun—what kind of sight is that?"
He turned to the steward. "Third Peak: Wang Chuan for the first match, myself for the second, Zhao Qingwan for the third, the fourth..." He listed the names one by one before finally saying, "Qin Yuan for the tenth match."
Suppressed snickers came from Seventh Peak's side.
A sharp-faced disciple beside Li Xiu mocked, "Putting an outer sect waste last—are you planning to have him clean up the mess, or simply make sure he never gets to fight?"
Qin Yuan did not even raise his eyelids.
When Wang Chuan entered the arena, his momentum was imposing. His Eleventh Layer of Qi Cultivation fully erupted, and his palm winds were fierce and forceful.
His opponent was a lanky man wielding twin hooks, likewise at the Eleventh Layer.
The two fought for over thirty exchanges. Wang Chuan gradually gained the upper hand, then struck at his opponent's chest with a Stone Splitting Palm.
Just then, the lanky man twisted his body in a bizarre motion, and his twin hooks flicked upward like venomous snakes from an unbelievable angle.
"Pfft—"
Two more bone-deep wounds appeared on Wang Chuan's right arm. He screamed and collapsed.
"Thanks for letting me win." The lanky man withdrew his hooks, looking pleased with himself.
The second match: Chen Mo against Li Xiu.
Both had reached Great Perfection of the Twelfth Layer, but Li Xiu's swordsmanship was clearly superior.
After a hundred exchanges, Chen Mo was struck in the left shoulder. Blood stained his green robe as he staggered back in defeat.
They had lost both matches, and lost them so miserably.
The Seventh Peak disciples burst into laughter.
"That's all Third Peak can do? Their two strongest are lying there like dead dogs!"
"Why keep fighting? Hurry up and admit defeat!"
The Third Peak disciples' faces turned livid.
Clutching his wounded shoulder, Chen Mo shouted in a low voice, "Everyone, come out."
The ten left the hall and gathered beneath a pine tree outside.
Wang Chuan sprawled on the ground, blood gushing from his severed arm. Chen Mo's face was deathly pale, and his breathing was heavy. The remaining eight looked at one another, but no one dared speak.
"There are still eight matches," Chen Mo said hoarsely. "Who will go?"
No one answered.
After a long while, Zhao Qingwan, who had drawn the third match, said shakily, "Senior Brother Chen... I... I went astray in my cultivation yesterday. My dantian still aches. Today, I really..."
"You!" Wang Chuan glared at her furiously.
Sun Hai lowered his head as well. "My old injury has flared up. My left leg has no strength..."
"Trash! You're all trash!" Wang Chuan cursed loudly.
Chen Mo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew that sending up the rest would only be sending them to their deaths. Today, Third Peak was destined to lose all face.
Just then—
"I'll go."
Qin Yuan stepped out from the edge of the crowd.
A brief, dead silence fell.
Wang Chuan stared at him as though he were mad. "You? An outer sect disciple at Level 10 Qi Condensation? Are you going up there to die?"
Zhao Qingwan shrieked, "Qin Yuan! If you want to humiliate yourself, don't drag Third Peak down with you!"
Sun Hai shook his head and sighed. "Junior Brother Qin, we appreciate your intentions, but this..."
"You won't know until you try." Qin Yuan interrupted him and looked at Chen Mo. "By the rules, anyone who has not yet fought may enter the battle."
Chen Mo looked into his calm eyes, and something stirred in his heart for no reason. Yet he ultimately shook his head. "There is no need. Today's defeat is not something you alone can reverse."
Qin Yuan said nothing more and turned to leave.
"Where are you going?!" Wang Chuan demanded.
Without looking back, Qin Yuan replied, "Since none of you will go, I will."
The others watched his back vanish toward the hall entrance and stood there in a daze.
"He... he's really going?" Zhao Qingwan murmured.
"He's going to die, that's all." Wang Chuan sneered. "Fine. Let Seventh Peak see that even if Third Peak sends out a waste, we still have the courage to fight."
No one noticed that Qin Yuan was not heading down the mountain. He was walking straight back into the Martial Arts Hall.
When Qin Yuan pushed open the hall doors, the Seventh Peak disciples were chatting and laughing.
"Where are Third Peak's people? Did they run away in fright?"
"They probably went somewhere to cry!"
Seeing Qin Yuan return alone, Li Xiu raised a brow. "What, did Third Peak send you to admit defeat?"
Qin Yuan walked to the center of the hall and stopped. Looking at Seventh Peak's ten disciples, he said, "I'll fight the remaining matches by myself."
Silence.
Then earth-shaking laughter erupted.
"What did he say? He wants to fight all ten of us alone?"
"Has this waste gone mad?"
The lanky man who had just defeated Wang Chuan was eager to try. "Senior Brother Li, let me play with him first."
Li Xiu waved a hand, smiling without really smiling. "Since Junior Brother Qin has such heroic spirit, Junior Brother Zhang, you go. Remember, don't end it too quickly. Leave Third Peak a little dignity."
Junior Brother Zhang grinned, twin hooks in hand. "Don't worry. I'll have a good time playing with him."
He stopped three zhang in front of Qin Yuan, the tips of his hooks pointed at the ground. "Kid, don't say I'm bullying you. I'll give you three moves. After three moves, I'll need only one finger to..."
Before he could finish—
Qin Yuan moved.
There was no buildup, no flashy technique. He merely stepped forward and pushed out his right fist.
The mockery was still on Junior Brother Zhang's face as his twin hooks instinctively rose to block.
"Clang—!!!"
The explosive crash of metal striking metal shook dust down from the hall beams.
The twin hooks flew from his hands. Junior Brother Zhang himself shot backward like a kite with a severed string, slammed heavily into a hall pillar, then slid limply down, his fate unknown.
One punch.
The hall fell deathly silent.
The smiles on Seventh Peak's faces froze.
Li Xiu's pupils abruptly contracted. "You..."
Qin Yuan withdrew his fist and looked at the remaining nine. "Next."
"Attack together!" Li Xiu shouted.
The remaining eight snapped awake as if from a dream. Blades and swords emerged together, spiritual energy flaring in every color as they charged Qin Yuan from all directions.
Qin Yuan stood where he was without even moving his feet.
He raised a hand and loosely curled his five fingers.
The air seemed to solidify.
The eight charging figures suddenly halted, as though they had crashed into an invisible wall. Then an irresistible force squeezed in from every direction.
"Pfft—" "Pfft—" "Pfft—"
All eight spat blood and flew backward at once. Their weapons left their hands as they smashed into the walls and fell to the ground. Not one could rise again.
Only Li Xiu remained.
The Seventh Peak genius was white as a sheet, his sword hand trembling. He stared fixedly at Qin Yuan and said word by word, "You hid your cultivation... You are absolutely not at Level 10 Qi Condensation!"
Qin Yuan did not answer. He merely crooked a finger at him.
Li Xiu roared. Sword light surged as man and sword became one, transforming into a brilliant blue rainbow that shot straight toward Qin Yuan's throat—this was Rainbow Piercing the Sun, the killing move he had painstakingly cultivated for three years. It had once injured a Foundation Establishment Early Stage cultivator across realms!
Qin Yuan extended his right hand, pressing his index and middle fingers together, and lightly pinched.
The sword tip was firmly caught between those two fingers just three inches from his throat.
Li Xiu desperately drove his spiritual energy. The sword trembled and hummed, yet could not advance even half an inch.
Qin Yuan's fingers tightened slightly.
"Crack—"
The sword tip shattered.
Immediately afterward, spiritual energy like mountains toppling and seas overturning surged backward along the blade.
"Ah—!" Li Xiu screamed. His entire right arm exploded into a mist of blood, and he flew backward, smashing through half the hall wall before being buried beneath rubble.
Ten breaths.
From Qin Yuan's first move to the complete defeat of all ten Seventh Peak disciples, only ten breaths had passed.
At some point, a hemp-robed old man had appeared at the hall entrance.
His beard and hair were white, his features lean and refined, and a wine gourd hung from his waist. He studied Qin Yuan with great interest, then nodded. "Not bad."
Qin Yuan cupped his hands. "Disciple Qin Yuan greets Elder."
"This old man's surname is Zhou. I rank seventh, and the Sect Master calls me Seventh Elder." The old man took off his wine gourd and drank a mouthful. "I saw the entire match just now. One against ten—rather interesting."
He tossed over a storage pouch. "This is the reward for this competition: five hundred mid-grade Spirit Crystals, a bottle of Foundation Establishment Pills, and a Mysterious Iron Sword. They are yours."
Qin Yuan caught it. "Thank you, Elder."
Seventh Elder waved a hand and gave him another deep look before turning and drifting away.
Hurried footsteps sounded from outside.
The nine Third Peak disciples rushed into the hall. When they saw the wreckage covering the ground and Seventh Peak disciples lying every which way, they all froze.
"This... this is..." Wang Chuan's eyes widened.
Chen Mo's gaze swept across the hall before finally landing on Qin Yuan, who stood in the center. Qin Yuan held a storage pouch in his hand—the very reward from the competition.
An unimaginable thought rose in everyone's heart.
Could it be... he had done this?
Zhao Qingwan blurted out, "Qin Yuan, were these people... defeated by you?"
Qin Yuan looked at her but said nothing.
Wang Chuan's expression shifted. Suddenly, he shouted, "Impossible! How could an outer sect disciple defeat Li Xiu? A mysterious expert must have passed by, taken offense at Seventh Peak's arrogance, and taught them a lesson!"
Sun Hai immediately echoed him. "Yes, yes, yes! We rushed in when we heard the sounds of fighting, and Seventh Peak's people were already down. Qin Yuan just happened to be standing here and picked up the benefit!"
"Exactly! How can the credit be placed on his head?" Zhao Qingwan shrieked. "The mysterious expert defeated Seventh Peak, but our Third Peak won the competition! Qin Yuan, hand over the rewards. They are Third Peak's spoils of war!"
Qin Yuan looked at the shameless faces twisting black into white, and suddenly laughed.
He tucked the storage pouch into his robe, turned, and walked away.
"Stop!" Wang Chuan roared. "Leave the things behind!"
Though one of his arms had been severed, his left hand could still move. He struck at Qin Yuan's back with his palm.
Without turning his head, Qin Yuan swung a hand behind him.
"Bang—!"
As if struck by a massive hammer, Wang Chuan flew sideways, crashed into the wall, and fainted.
Everyone was horrified.
"Qin Yuan! You dare run wild in Third Peak!" Chen Mo shouted. His shoulder wound split open, and blood poured out.
At that moment, an enraged shout came from outside the hall. "Who dares injure my Third Peak disciples!"
A black-robed old man strode through the air, his beard and hair bristling like halberds. He was Third Peak's Enforcement Elder, Wang Zhenshan.
After landing, he swept his gaze across the scene before fixing it on Qin Yuan. "Junior, you dare injure people in Third Peak? You have some nerve!"
Qin Yuan said calmly, "Elder, please judge fairly. They struck first to seize credit. This disciple merely defended himself."
"Seize credit?" Liu Zhenshan sneered. "The competition rewards should have belonged to Third Peak in the first place! You are merely an outer sect disciple. What right do you have to take them?"
Qin Yuan looked at the elder's undisguised favoritism and suddenly threw back his head in laughter.
His laughter echoed through the empty hall, brimming with mockery.
"What a Third Peak." He stopped laughing, his gaze sweeping over Chen Mo and Zhao Qingwan before finally landing on Wang Zhenshan. "From top to bottom, you are cut from the same shameless cloth."
Wang Zhenshan's face turned livid. "You are courting death!"
The pressure of Foundation Establishment Late Stage cultivation erupted with a boom, descending upon Qin Yuan like Mount Tai crushing down.
Qin Yuan stood where he was, his back straight, his gray robe stirring without wind.
Within him, the spiritual energy of the Thirteenth Layer of Qi Cultivation—the extreme realm—slowly began to awaken.
Outside the hall, Seventh Elder had appeared beneath the pine tree again at some point. Holding his wine gourd, he watched the hall with a smiling gaze.
"Interesting." He took a drink. "This little fellow has hidden himself far more deeply than I thought."
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