The Cruel Steps Toward the Top Ten

The next morning, the sound of the Niujiao was even more resonant and long than in the previous days, as if it were a clarion call to march toward ultimate glory. The atmosphere in the training ground was heavy and intense, more somber than ever before. After a night's rest, the spirits of the twenty-five top experts were at their peak. They were like twenty-five sharp blades about to be drawn, gathered in front of the podium.

The registrar quickly counted the people; all twenty-five were present.

Jianshi's gaze slowly swept over the twenty-five resolute faces, each one representing a glorious record of hard-won victories. Without further ado, he took a deep breath and roared in a voice powerful enough to shake the entire valley, "Begin!"

The word "concise" carried the weight of thunder, instantly igniting the fighting spirit in the hearts of all the soldiers.

The morning will feature twelve crucial matches to determine twelve winners. Together with the bye Jushi, a total of thirteen people will advance to the next round in the afternoon. The number of arenas has been reduced to three, meaning that each arena will host four clashes between top fighters.

Yan followed the referee to the designated arena. He was scheduled to fight in the third match. The first two matches were already enough to get any spectator excited.

In the first match, Jianya faced off against Chongzhuang.

Jianya, one of the core strategists of the Fire Tribe, has been busy with affairs in recent years, but he was a famous warrior in the tribe in his early years and has a very solid foundation. Time has not diminished his sharpness, but has instead made him more Chenwen and shrewd. His opponent, Chongzhuang, was the former leader of the White Pig Tribe. He is known for his brave and unstoppable advance, and his name reflects his character.

The two stepped onto the stage. Chong Chongzhuang dared not be careless in the slightest. Facing Jianya, he immediately went all out, roaring as he thrust his wooden spear like a battering ram straight at Chong Zhuang's vitals. However, Jianya's response was effortless. His footwork was exquisite, and he dodged the attack at the last second. His wooden spear, like a viper's tongue, precisely struck the weak points in Chongzhuang, forcing Chongzhuang to change tactics repeatedly and thwarting his offensive.

Jianya didn't rush into a full-scale attack, but instead used his superior combat wisdom to control the rhythm, constantly wearing down, probing, and pressuring the opponent. In less than ten rounds, Chongzhuang showed signs of fatigue and impatience; his attacks, though fierce, were increasingly vulnerable. By the twentieth round, he was mostly on the defensive and his offense was waning, putting him in a precarious position. Chongzhuang gritted his Jianya and persevered until the thirtieth round, but after a desperate block, Fang seized an opening and delivered a superb thrust that sent his tightly gripped wooden spear flying upwards! Immediately afterward, Jianya stepped forward and delivered a flying kick, cleanly sending the weaponless Chongzhuang out of the ring.

"Jianya wins the first match!" the referee announced loudly. Jianya sheathed his spear, reached out to the somewhat dazed Chongzhuang sitting on the ground, his face bearing a gentle yet undeniably powerful confidence.

In the second match, Dabang faced off against Shibang.

The duel between the father and son instantly attracted everyone's attention, bringing a unique tension and anticipation. Dabang, the Fire Tribe's current undisputed number one fighter (excluding Chief Jianshi), possesses terrifying strength and superb combat skills. Even top fighters like Dali, Dazhuang, and Jianya Fang rarely manage to defeat him in private sparring. Shibang, his son, is now the head of the Deer Tribe Mining Area and is also a rising star known for his courage and strength.

Looking at his son across from him, whose expression was a mixture of excitement and nervousness, Dabang laughed heartily, "Good lad! You made it this far, you didn't disgrace your father! Come on, let me see if your skills have improved since you went to the mining area!"

Shibang knew his father was terrifying, but his eyes showed no fear, only a burning fighting spirit. The opportunity to fight his father on such a formal stage and test his own growth was rare! "Father, be careful!" he shouted, no longer hesitating, launching the first attack. His wooden spear, brimming with the fearlessness of a newborn calf, pierced straight through the center of the Dabang.

A hint of approval flashed in Dabang's eyes. Without dodging or avoiding, he thrust out his spear straight out, choosing the most ferocious counterattack!

"Bang!"

The tips of the two spears collided with a dull thud! Shibang shuddered violently, his arms went numb, and he staggered back three steps before barely managing to regain his footing. He was horrified: his father's strength seemed even more terrifying than he remembered!

The Dabang didn't budge an inch, and he nodded in satisfaction. "Not bad! Your strength has improved a lot, looks like you haven't been slacking off! Let's try again!"

Shibang took a deep breath, knowing he had no chance of winning in terms of strength. He immediately changed his strategy. Instead of fighting head-on, he used his relatively agile movements and the speed advantage brought by his youth to begin a hit-and-run battle with the Dabang. He moved nimbly, his spear strikes Xunjie, and he would strike and leave without stopping, trying to use skill to break through strength and find any weaknesses in the speed that the Dabang might have due to its size and strength.

With his seasoned experience, Dabang saw through his son's thoughts at a glance. Instead of pressing his advantage, he remained calm and composed, his wooden spear seemingly possessing eyes, always precisely blocking Shibang's attack routes. Occasionally, he would counterattack with a spear, forcing Shibang into a frantic state. The father and son exchanged blows on the arena, their spears flashing, making for an exceptionally intense and exciting battle that drew cheers from the audience.

Twenty rounds passed in the blink of an eye. Although Shibang had executed his hit-and-run tactics well, the mountain-like defense and occasional thunderous counterattacks of his Dabang had taken a toll on his stamina. He began to pant, and his movements became noticeably sluggish. He knew he was nearing his limit, but he gritted his teeth and persevered, hoping to hold out for a few more moves.

Dabang noticed his son's fatigue, a fleeting hint of heartache flashing in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by an even more serious fighting spirit. This was a martial arts arena, a place of respect for his son, and the best form of instruction. He suddenly intensified his attack, his wooden spear swung like a windmill, a perfect combination of power, speed, and skill, creating an overwhelming sense of pressure.

The pressure on Shibang increased dramatically. He struggled to defend himself and faced numerous dangers. In the thirtieth round, after Shibang barely managed to deflect a Dali sweeping blow from the Dabang, it swept in again with even greater speed and lightning speed! Shibang had exhausted his strength and could no longer dodge effectively. He could only grit his teeth and block with both hands holding the spear. An irresistible force came, and he groaned as he flew backward and crashed out of the ring.

"Second match, Dabang wins!" the referee announced.

Dabang spear, strode over to his son, pulled him up, and patted him hard on the back, his voice booming with pride. "Good lad! Thirty rounds! You've improved! Go back and practice some more!"

Although Shibang was defeated, his face was full of excitement and satisfaction. He gave a heavy "hmm". Being able to fight his father for thirty rounds this time had far exceeded his expectations.

"Prepare for the third match! Flame, versus Houpi!"

Yan stepped into the circle with his spear. His opponent was Houpi, the chief of the Bison Tribe. This man was burly and his skin was like a thick layer of leather. He was known for his amazing defense, endurance and considerable strength. He was a typical "meat shield" type warrior.

Houpi saw Yan and inwardly groaned. He knew all too well Yan's reputation and the terrifying strength he had displayed in the previous rounds; Yan was definitely an extremely difficult opponent. But he also had his own pride and tactics—to wear Yan down!

"Start!"

Houpi made up his mind and tried to take the initiative from the start. He roared and charged forward like an angry Bison. With the momentum of his charge, he swept his wooden spear horizontally with Dali, creating a whooshing sound. He intended to force Yan to retreat or take the hit head-on, thus entering the rhythm of exhaustion that he was good at.

However, Yan did not retreat or completely dodge. Instead, he firmly planted his feet on the ground, coordinated his waist and stance, held the spear in both hands, and, seeing the incoming attack, suddenly parried and pushed!

Thump!

With a muffled thud, like a wooden mallet striking a giant drum! Houpi felt a powerful yet incredibly concentrated force travel along the spear shaft, not only easily neutralizing his sweeping attack but also causing his arms to tremble violently, his tiger's mouth to go numb instantly, and his feet to uncontrollably stagger back two large steps before he could barely stand. His blood and qi surged within him!

Houpi Skin was filled with shock and disbelief as he stared at Yan, who had only swayed slightly. "This... this strength?!" He had always been quite confident in his strength, but he never expected to be so vulnerable in front of Yan! He had already suffered a great loss simply by parrying and counterattacking.

Yan didn't give him much time to breathe or think. Since his opponent wanted to outlast him with sheer force, then so be it! Yan pushed forward with his feet, no longer pursuing fancy techniques with his wooden spear, but simplifying it, as if wielding a heavy iron rod, smashing, sweeping, or chopping. His moves were wide and powerful, each strike containing terrifying power and speed, direct and violent.

Caught off guard, Houpi could only grit his teeth and push his defenses to the limit to withstand Yan's fierce onslaught. Each collision left his arms numb and his blood churning, and the ground beneath his feet seemed to tremble. He tried to retaliate, but under Yan's ferocious and continuous attacks, he couldn't find an opening. Instead, due to distraction, he was repeatedly struck on the shoulder and ribs by Yan's spear shaft. Although he managed to withstand a couple of blows thanks to his thick skin, the pain and shock made his movements increasingly sluggish.

In just eight rounds, Houpi was already sweating profusely and panting heavily, his defensive circle getting smaller and smaller. In the ninth round, Yan's swift straight thrust was narrowly parried by him. Yan then changed his thrust into a sweep, and the spear shaft slammed heavily onto Houpi's wooden spear.

Houpi could no longer hold on, and the wooden spear flew out of his hand. He was startled, and before he could make a next move, Yan's figure was already close by like a shadow, and a clean and neat side kick hit him squarely in the chest, which was slightly leaning forward due to the loss of the spear.

"Bang!"

Houpi- skinned grunt, his massive body kicked off the ground, flying backward and crashing solidly outside the ring, kicking up a cloud of dust.

"Match 3, Yan wins!" The referee's voice and the deafening cheers from the audience erupted simultaneously. It was too overwhelming! Facing the Houpi known for its defense, Yan actually chose the most powerful and overwhelming force, and defeated it in less than ten rounds! This strength shocked everyone.

Yan sheathed his spear, nodded to Houpi who was struggling to his feet as a sign of respect, and Houpi, rubbing his aching chest, looked at Yan with a bitter smile and full of admiration, and clasped his hands in a fist salute.

The fourth match continued, and it was another fierce clash between top players.

When all twelve matches concluded that morning, the sun was high in the sky. The twelve winners, along with the Jushi received a bye, a total of thirteen people, stood once again beside the platform to register. They were the thirteen strongest individuals who had survived several rounds of brutal elimination from among four thousand four hundred people! Each one of them was worthy of being called a "war god" of the Fire Tribe.

They are: Dabang, Dali, Dazhuang, Jianya, Flame, Shinian (formerly Green Grain Tribe), Mangu (Bison Tribe), Juti (Bison Tribe), Tunyong (formerly White Pig Tribe), Liaoya (formerly White Pig Tribe), Qingti (formerly Deer Tribe), Changjiao (formerly Green Sheep Tribe), and the bye, Jushi (a senior warrior from headquarters).

These thirteen individuals constituted the pinnacle of the Fire Tribe's military strength.

After registration, the crucial draw to determine the final top ten will take place. Seven numbers are placed in a wooden box (two for each of numbers 1-6, and a bye for number 7).

The lottery process was quick and quiet, and the results were announced soon.

The lucky one who drew a bye and directly gained the right to rest for an afternoon's round of duels was -- Shinian! This first warrior of the Green Grain Tribe, who survived the calamity in the north, joined the Fire Tribe, and demonstrated great strength, showed a relieved yet slightly excited smile on his face.

This means that the remaining twelve will immediately engage in six brutal one-on-one duels! The winners of these six matches will directly secure six of the top ten spots in this martial arts tournament! The six losers, along with the bye Shinian, will compete in a round-robin tournament for the remaining four top ten spots. Those eliminated top 100 contestants will not be eligible for a revival match unless they are granted permission by the referees and Jianshi for a special reason.