Nine hundred narrowed to six hundred, six hundred to three hundred, three hundred to one hundred...
Every opponent was so strong, every battle so difficult. With every round they advanced, heaven and earth became vastly different.
When they returned to the Jianghu, bearing their fresh Crane and Teal rankings, they would become legends scattered across the land once more.
But however people climbed, only thirty-two figures could stand in the final two days.
These thirty-odd young cultivators of Great Tang's Renwu Year represented, at the very least, the strongest Lineage Realm cultivators visible in the Jianghu over the past three years. Ten years later, some of them might likewise stand at the head of the Crane List.
Now their Chief Champion would be decided within two days, and all of Great Tang would sing his name.
The vast crowd swarmed like ants, with the Winter Sword Platform enclosed among them like a white jade platter.
Pei Ye arrived by carriage. Vermilion Bird Street was blocked by the raised Winter Sword Platform, and these past few days pedestrians, horses, and carriages had all been taking curved detours through the wards to the east and west. He had stayed at Shenxiao Separate Residence for the past two days; its lush bamboo grove truly did bring peace to his mind.
He stepped down from the carriage, with Jiang Yiner beside him.
The arrangements for the round of thirty-two had been announced yesterday. Xu Chuo had previously asked whether he had a preferred path through the matches, but Pei Ye had shaken his head and said the usual arrangement was fine. When he received the match slip yesterday, he saw that, as expected, he would not take the stage until the round of sixteen.
A secluded rooftop nearby was comfortable. Pei Ye took the