Viers re-read the letter again to clarify.

Hm, hm, a tournament for level 0 new recruits. One on one battles and twenty participants. Thirty crystals for the winner? It’s quite a sum for the current me. Begin ten days later… Okay then.

Viers went on his days as usual, doing all kinds of training. His body could held out under the intense training schedule because of his healing factor.

***

A few days later in his dorm room, Viers had a sudden inspiration.

What would happen, if I cast Arte with not just my Victa but also with my life-force?

Using life for fueling a technique was a common enough occurrence in stories. Such techniques usually fell into the forbidden technique category. Mighty and powerful effects but harmful to the user, shorten their lifespan or wrecked their body. But Viers could heal his body and could gain more life-force from eating, he could counterbalance its harmful side-effects.

Currently, his life-force only decreased when used to heal his wound. He still had a lot of it and couldn't find any other way to use it. Viers always wanted to find more use of his life-force besides healing since he now found a way to replenish it.

So Viers tested his theory. The result was astonishing.

“Arte — Water Barrier.”

A membrane of protective water enveloped his body. Normally it's clear blue colored but now it's mixed with a faint viridescent glow.

“Wooho, it worked. Now, what's the difference?”

He tried to punch his own chest and felt nothing. Before the life-force adding, Water Barrier was already strong enough to withstand his punch so pounding his chest like a gorilla was a wasted effort. He couldn't use Water Slash on his own body –properly slashing oneself with a sword was a bit difficult–, and he didn't want to ruin his room so he really couldn't test it at the time.

Oh well, a matter for another time. Let’s just say mixing my Arte with life-force will upgrade its power.

***

“Jor, hit me with your strongest Arte,” Amay said.

“Yes, instructor. Arte — Water Slash!”

Viers’s sword hit Amay’s defensive Arte and failed to do any damage.

“JOOOR! That was GODDAMN ridiculous. Do it seriously!”

“That was my only Arte for attacking, instructor.”

“Why do you only have one GODDAMN Arte for killing your enemies? Explain!”

“Yes, instructor. I want to conserve my Victa as much as possible. More complicated Arte uses more Victa and it's too hard to learn high-end Artes. But I managed to find a way to make this simple Arte stronger. With your permission, instructor?”

“Hmph, do it.” Amay nodded.

“Arte — Water Slash Fourfold!”

The might of four Artes released in one slash, Amay’s wind barrier wavered a bit because of his attack.

“Arte stacking? It's rare to see people use that technique. Great work… Do you think I would say something like that? That was GODDAMN messy and sloppy execution! No finesse at all, clear work of an amateur! You think Arte stacking is something grand? This is how you GODDAMN do it, hah!”

Amay showed an example with tips and tricks. Despite his foul mouth, Amay’s teaching was helpful to Viers so the fat boy had no qualms enduring the goddamn-centric instructor.

***

Viers, Paina, Farley, and Max went to Terry’s funeral. There were lots of funerals besides Terry’s because of the Ghoul attack. Viers met Terry’s parents, surprisingly, they didn't blame him or made things difficult for him. Viers was grateful for their reasonableness, said his condolences, and offered Terry his prayer.

Because the church’s priests were busy thanks to the sheer amount of dead people. Someone known to Viers presided over Terry's funeral. It was Leon’s captain, Angelo. Rose was also present, helping Angelo. The man wore a priestly robe and conducted the funeral flawlessly as if he did it often enough.

Thankfully, Angelo and Rose didn't recognize Viers as Leon’s killer so the funeral was proceeding without a hitch. It was a nail-biting time for Viers.

***

“Viers, I’m sorry!”

One day, Max came to him when Viers was training on the field and bowed ninety degrees.

“For?”

“For hitting you.”

“Oh, that. Don’t worry about it.”

“No. If you forgive me, you must hit me. So we’re even!”

“Hmph!” Viers didn't hesitate to deck Max in the face. Adding his full body weight for the strike.

“That hurt, you idiot! I didn't punch you that hard!” Max was reeling backwards from the strike. One hand on his hurting cheeck.

“The excess pain is for my wounded heart.” Sneered Viers.

“That is unfair, accept my righteous retribution!” Max threw a punch in return.

“What happened to your hot-blooded apology? And you were so cool a minute ago.” Viers dodged the punch and threw another one.

A fight broke out, not serious enough for a real fight but more than simple banter. Viers and Max added a bit of Victa for their reconciliation fight. Both of them were smiling as they pummeled each other.

Teldo did not mediate, he simply watched from afar and faintly smiled. Nakala sighed and massaged her temple. The other classmates watched the monkey show with interest.

“See, I told you they'll be fine,” Farley said.

“Yes, thank goodness they don't hold a grudge against one another.” Paina was relieved for both of her friends' reconciliation.

***

“Jor, fight me with your full strength. I have a suspicion.”

“Okay.”

They fought then Viers sprawled on the ground, his whole body was hurting.

“Just as I thought. Jor, you have faster reflexes than other people.”

“Reflexes, sir?”

“More accurately, reaction time. What you perceive with your eyes, your brain processes it, then orders the body to move or react. On top of that, you have a keen instinct for danger. Earlier, I strike from your blindspot but you evaded it anyway, most level 0s couldn't evade my strike so cleanly. Almost like a beast or wild animal. Usually, people need to use Arte to achieve your state but it comes naturally for you. Once in a while, you’ll find people with sharper things like that.”

“Thanks for the praise, instructor.”

“And you GODDAMN waste it! Your amateurish swordsmanship, subpar footwork, your bad habit of looking where you aim, and eight other flaws. What a waste of a great gift, get down there and give me fifty! The stronger your muscle is, the stronger your body will be when empowered by Victa, burn that GODDAMN fat down!”

“Sir, yes sir!” Viers started doing push-ups.

***

The date of the tournament arrived. In a big hall, a square arena was erected with Earth Arte. The hall was filled with cultists of Dumuzin. Eager to feast their eyes on the good show.

“Farley, who do you think will win?”

“It's hard to be sure, brother Bernard. But Soris is the most promising among level 0s.”

“So you say, but I wonder who put 100 crystals on Jor in the betting pool, hm?” Bernard cocked his head questioningly to her sister seated next to him.

“It was just a flight of fancy. No need to think too hard about it.” Farley elegantly said while drinking a high-class cocktail.

“Oh, oh, is he sister’s boyfriend?” Gwen asked with beaming eyes.

“Gwennie, shush,” Farley replied without any awkwardness, neither confirming nor denying it.

The five Styra siblings, August, Monica, Bernard, Farley, and Gwen were attending to witness the fighting prowess of the new recruits.

The tournament started, after a few rounds, it was Viers’s turn.

Jor was declared lost in absentia.

Bernard laughed loudly and mockingly, Gwen was disappointed one of the matches was a no fight, and Farley threw her glass on the floor in anger.

***

Tournaments, it was something as crucial in xianxia stories as chi, dragon, phoenix, and filial piety. In some stories, there would be all kinds of tournaments for every reasonable (or unreasonable) step in MC’s journey.

When MC in ‘Foundation Establishment’ level there's a tournament for that. Another tournament would sprout when he was in ‘Nascent Soul’ level. After MC entered a sect, tournament. Nay, the sect entrance test itself had a tournament format in it. When some secret realm opened or any other baloney occurred so that sect had to send disciples out, ‘quality check’ tournament to choose the team.

Another one would pop-up for ‘young generation’ cultivators under 60 years old, which MC was (55 years old was not old, not by any means if cultivator’s lifespan was counted in centuries or millennia). When the MC needed a MacGuffin to further the plot of the story, conveniently, some tournament’s prize was that very MacGuffin.

Even after the MC ascended to ‘higher-realm’, a tournament which was conducted once every 10,000 years would be around the corner which for some reason or another, the MC participated. Nobody would question the improbability of it.

If the world was in crisis because of otherworldly beings invaded. The leaders of humanity arranged a tournament to select the best of what humanity had to offer. The winner had proven himself worthy so those wise old sages gave him or her some sealed/sacred/forbidden power to fight the crisis.

Oh no, the MC’s love interest was forced to marry the winner of some tournament her parents arranged. Enter the MC to save the day.

Oh no, MC’s sect/clan was almost dismantled or in a tight spot, only by winning some prestigious tournament the sect/clan honor could be upheld. MC entered that tournament like a saving messiah.

Oh no, MC’s long lost sweetheart couldn't be met without winning some tournament. MC went through fire and water to meet her, no question asked.

The tournament arc was the bread and butter for new characters' introduction and development. Rivals, friends, enemies, frenemies, were easy to create and the fights were setting up future plot points. Easy for word count too because the gallery needed to do blabbering expositions for every technique and item used by the participants. Thousands of years old ancestors flabbergasted when their descendants' ass was kicked by the MC. Hilarity ensued, then BAM, 100 or 200 future chapters’ plot was served.

But all of that was so normal lately that the authors no longer gave a damn about how unlikely such an occurrence was and how stale the story became, because most people still read it, willingly. It’s just that part of the story. People read, then move on, because the story was still good.

There were good tournaments in the stories Viers had read, however, seeing too much similar concept made Viers viewed one-on-one tournaments very negatively.

***

Outside of Luxore town, in the woods away from the prying eyes of other people, Viers was standing before a slashed boulder.

Good, Arte fueled with Victa plus life-force becomes stronger substantially. At my current full strength, it becomes more than double, almost triple the normal Arte’s power. I tried to cast Arte with just the life-force but I wasn't able to. It has to be mixed with Victa… I call this technique, Hyper Arte!

Now that I think about it, it should be time for my match soon, heheh.

Viers looked to the blue sky.

Destiny, I don't fight in tournaments. Try to make me, if you can.

“And that’s all I have to say about that.” Said Viers to no one in particular, feeling mighty pleased with himself.