“Disciple Fan Zhong seems to be doing well, Brother Zheng. Perhaps he will make it into the top eight!” Sect Master Jie said as he observed the central arena.

Currently, the young man in question was participating in the 14th group of the second round of the tournament. For this round three groups of three at a time were selected at random to participate, leaving only the winner of each arena to progress. In order to preserve fairness each of those ranked first in the previous round had been seeded into separate groups.

Other than this the rest of the selections were made at random. This time a newly broken-through First-grade realm sect disciple was in the central arena along with a more junior Second-grade realm sect disciple and Fan Zhong. The bout had been going on for a few breaths of time and surprisingly all three of them were still fighting.

Although the junior disciple was weaker than both competitors she managed to use her two short swords as well as a defensive style to remain in the fight. What truly allowed her to do this though was a great grasp on the spacing between the two stronger opponents, causing both to be wary of one another. Fan Zhong had landed a glancing blow on the shoulder of the stronger sect disciple causing the other youth to visibly favor his other arm.

Meanwhile, the audacious junior disciple actually landed a cut on Fan Zhong’s leg during the exchange before retreating to once again pit the two against each other. This caused the senior male disciple to brandish his long two-handed sword in a defensive guard while making space to assess the situation.

“Oh? Was there a question whether he would take a top spot or not?” Xing Zheng asked as he leveled a small smile at the Sect Master while quirking an eyebrow up in question.

“Hmmm? Senior Zhang Zheng, beg my pardon however, disciple Fan Zhong’s skills were rather average when he arrived. Even though he has made great strides, I think it unreasonable to assume he can contend with the core sect disciples.” Master Hu Wu responded with a tone of slight disagreement from his seat to the right of the Sect Master.

It could indeed be said that Fan Zhong’s skills were average for his age among the talented younger generation. One had to know that in the clans it was normal to take many years to reach the first-grade realm as there were many things to attend to. For someone like Fan Zhong, he would have to learn about leading the clan as well as dealing with clients.

All the while he would be constantly learning to navigate inter-clan politics so as to not cause any misunderstandings with the powers that be. As such it was normal for those who participated in such things to progress slower in their martial arts. One need only take a look at his father Fan Long as an example.

He was known as one of the most brilliant martial artists the valley had seen for many generations; however, it still took him decades to arrive at the Grandmaster realm. Although this was fast for a normal practitioner, to someone who entered the Master realm at only the age of 15 it could almost be considered laughable. This too showed how conflict and wartime could spurn clans to greatness.

While the chaos was going on within the valley, strength was the only thing that mattered, and as such Fan Long only had to focus on practicing martial arts to make a breakthrough. After peace settled many more responsibilities came his way, ultimately eating up much of his time. However, all of this didn’t matter to those who joined martial arts sects.

Sects for their part mainly served to protect the local surroundings as well as powerful factions to deter evil-doers. Although sect disciples occasionally had to do missions to fulfill these roles the rest of the time they were free to pursue their own interests. This gave them far more time to study in seclusion and perfect their martial arts, allowing them to advance faster than those with other duties!

All of this only spoke of those who joined such sects externally, for those born inside this mentality was ingrained into them since birth. With sect martial artists mainly focusing on training they would rarely have children but when they did those descendants were normally stronger than the parents! Mainly this was because having the environment of martial arts crazed people around one molded them from an early age to see this as the norm and the mundane world as strange.

It could not be expressed how important mindset was when it came to training in martial arts and striving to ascend through the realms. From the basics of perseverance to the start of establishing one's Dao heart, the mindset was the underlying foundation that underpinned all of this. Deep meditation could help change a person's personality and coupled with a rigorous set training regime one could produce miraculous effects.

None of this, however, could compare to someone who had this mentality innately ingrained into them. For those individuals, they could spend all the effort put into training that mindset and reinvest it into perfecting their path! From this, it was easy to see how sect-born martial artists could progress faster than those who primarily operated in the day-to-day mortal world.

Knowing all of this Xing Zheng could indeed see why Master Hu Wu thought Fan Zhong’s original skill was average for his age. Still many of them did not know that he had spent five years simply not practicing martial arts. During that time Fan Zhong was deep in his depression and his skills hadn’t improved at all.

If any of them were to know the shockingly little amount of time he had spent actually training it would amaze them all! It had to be said that even for those sect disciples who breakthrough into the First-grade realm at the young age of around 15 they had dedicated their whole lives to the martial path. Taking this into account it could be said that they spent over a dedicate of training to accomplish this feat.

Meanwhile, Fan Zhong had only started training with any seriousness when he turned 14, meaning his road to the apex was a little less than a decade long. Thinking of all this caused a small smile to appear on Xing Zheng’s face as he turned to look at Master Hu Wu.

“Brother Hu Wu, while Junior Zhong’s skills were average when he arrived, his current level might shock you. How about a small wager between friends, I’ll bet 1,000 spirit stones that Junior Zhong will place in the top two.” Xing Zheng’s words were calm and spoken in a casual manner however the others present still paled as they heard them.

1,000 spirit stones? What kind of extravagant wager was that? Although this amount wasn’t heaven-shaking it definitely wasn’t a small amount either.

With just that amount of wealth, one could buy a decent quality earthly-earth-grade treasure, increasing their battle strength by a quarter! If one was a mortal they could live off such an amount for a year with modest accommodations in a place like butont. Considering this the present masters couldn’t help but wonder how this ‘Zhang Zheng’ could casually throw around such wealth in a friendly betting competition.

Martial artists could definitely earn spirit stones through various means such as gathering rare materials or giving protection to various organizations. However, they were rarely independently wealthy and usually needed to gather together to form their own groups to gain wealth. Only those old monster-like experts who wandered the world while delving through old battlefields and ruins could flippantly sell off the things they found and become greatly wealthy by themselves.

Either that or tie themselves to a great existence like the Xing Empire and take up the role of an official, supervising an area while raking in benefits from those who came to pay homage. As such trepidation started to creep into the hearts of each of those present as they wandered about the identity of this mysterious guest. Normally he spent most of his time reading through scrolls in the technique library or exchanging words with the Sect Master.

For his part, Jie Ling was incredibly polite to him, not daring once to use his position as the Sect Master to override a request by the other man. At the moment he was inwardly sighing while also outwardly putting on a pale face of shock. Truthfully he felt that Xing Zheng would restrain himself as such talks between the senior peers during gatherings were rather normal.

With his negotiations still going on with the Azure Rain Sword Sect on the details for becoming a mortal branch sect, the matter had naturally been kept a secret. As such for now, he could only endure and continue acting like the immortal was simply a powerful mysterious mortal master. Although this was the case he was still happy with the reserved nature shown by the man.

There were many stories of domineering immortals not caring about what those beneath them thought and even killing people on a whim. Xing Zheng for his part was being reserved and only presented a slightly amount of overbearing attitude with this sum of spirit stones. In truth had he wanted even ten times this amount wouldn’t have been an issue for the man so it was quite good that he had limited it to keep his cover.

Overall this had given Jie Ling quite a good impression of Xing Zheng overall and he was eager to keep working with him. After all the Fan clan scions were under his personal protection, wouldn’t it be losing too much face if he wasn't at least a little bit overbearing?

“Th… This… Brother Zhang Zheng, isn’t this a bit much?” a female master seated to Hu Wu’s right spoke up.

She had shoulder-length vibrant green hair and faint traces of scales could be seen on her skin. The woman’s eyes were piercing and slanted like a snake with her pupils shaped like stars sitting in an azure sea. From a single glance, Xing Zheng could tell that she was demi-human, one of those with strong nonhuman ancestry.

If he had to guess she descended from one of the intelligent humanoid races that themselves were descendants of the Primordial Flood Dragons. He had seen her a few times throughout the sect but it was still rather eye-catching each time. Although in the capital and inner parts of the empire demi-humans were only slightly less common than normal humans in the more remote parts they were a rare sight.

As he turned his gaze to meet hers a small mischievous twinkle played in the depths of his eyes as an outward domineering expression crossed his face.

“What much? If you have the confidence then bet, if not then don’t! Hmph, how can anyone who hopes to walk to the peak lack decisiveness?” Xing Zheng played the part of his outward grumpy mortal master facade perfectly and the others could only wryly smile.

“Indeed, Brother Zhang Zheng is right! Come, this old man will bet with you!” Master Hu Wu gained a glint of competitiveness in his eyes as he seemed to rally.

After this everyone shared a polite chuckle as they exchanged a few more polite words. In the end, only Hu Wu chose to take up the bet while the others backed down while saying some words to give Xing Zheng face. Meanwhile, while this short exchange took place, in the span of only a minute Fan Zhong had toppled both of his opponents.

In the central arena, he stood with several cuts on the outer parts of his legs and arms. Even so, he showed no hints of pain or agony and simply leaned on his staff for support as a bored expression settled on his face.

Shen Shuren stood with a complicated expression as he looked at his opponent across the arena. It was currently the third round of the tournament and the 50 remaining contestants had been paired up for individual matches. Unfortunately, the seeding from this was decided by the strength of opponents defeated in the prior rounds.

During the first round, he had been exceedingly unlucky to get three First-grade realm opponents and had ended up placing third after the other two ganged up on him. This led to him not being a first-place seed during the second round and getting random opponents. That round had gone well as his opponents had been rather weak however, this left him with an unfavorable ranking coming into the third round.

All of this led to his current predicament, being matched against Disciple Sister Tiyun Areal in the fifth match of the third round. Currently, the previous three arenas had been reconfigured to merge into a single larger one. Their current positions placed each of them near the center of the previous western and eastern arenas respectively.

This put quite some distance between them, somewhere around 25 meters giving ample room for either to use movement techniques to build up speed. With a deep breath, he shook his head internally and prepared to try his best. It was common knowledge that his disciple sister was one of the strongest members of the younger generation.

Although some thought that Disciple Brother Ren Lan might be here match it was hard to say who might win a straight-up duel. At the very least Shen Shuren knew that he was in the bottom half of the core disciples in terms of strength. All things considered, it seemed there was nothing for but to try his best.

Worst case scenario he would participate in the wildcard melee to receive the 26th slot for the next round. That spot would pit all 25 losers of this round in an all-out brawl to set the number of remaining contestants to an even amount. This would continue until the top four and give those with perhaps unfavorable matchups second chances at continuing.

From the way his luck was going he felt that any second chance was very much welcomed.

“Disciple Sister Areal, it is a pleasure to cross blades with you.” Shen Shuren wore a wry smile as he clasped his hands in a martial bow toward her.

“Indeed, shall we see if your understanding of ‘World Condensed to the Blade’ has improved, Disciple Brother Shen Shuren?” Tiyun Areal’s voice carried the aloof air of a sword immortal as well as the calmness of a still pond.

He could only shake his head in response, it seemed that this disciple sister of his would remain cold and impersonal.

“Of course, please instruct me kindly, disciple sister.” With these words, he raised his sword into a mid-guard position and charged forward.

Speed built up as he rushed forward in a swaying manner, each of his steps causing his body to seem like it could slip to either side at a moment's notice. Meanwhile, his opponent walked forward with a graceful air, slowly taking each step as if she was walking through a garden. Her sword drew lazy arcs in the air as she casually flourished it in swift arcs that elicited soft whistling noises.

In just a few moments the two met where the border fence of the western arena had previously been sitting. Shen Shuren had covered far more ground than his opponent and chose to use that momentum to feint to his right. In the same instant, his footwork shifted his body in the opposite direction and his high wrist cut to the opponent's neck changed.

His sword arced as it drew a sharp blurring circle of silver at a reverse angle. The blade cut down on the opposite side at the outside of Tiyun Areal’s outside ankle instead. Her sword seemed to become ephemeral as it slowly moved, still on a trajectory to meet the previous angle of attack.

At that moment her brows seemed to furrow just ever so slightly as all momentum in her sword seemed to halt. Instantly the pommel of her blade blurred down and met the edge of Shen Shuren’s sword. A sharp sound of clashing swords rang in the air as his opponent pushed outward while her blade seemed to slide into place to meet his sword.

Shen Shuren gritted his teeth as his sword seemed glued to its position and a blurring sword tip approached his throat. Quickly he stepped to his right and took three steps backward, trying to disengage the bind. Tiyun areal didn’t let up, however, and she followed him step after step with a seemingly otherworldly amount of grace.

It was almost as if she knew the moment he would move and started her steps at the same exact time. In just those three steps they pushed back and forth with their blades over a dozen times while drawing half a dozen circles. During this Shen Shuren desperately tried to disengage from the position while slashing or stabbing forward only for his opponent to him like glue.

Finally, he lost the upper hand once again and Tiyun Areal’s sword pushed forward just above his right shoulder. A large gash appeared there as the edge of the blade made contact with the outermost part of his body, spreading pain all throughout his right arm and chest. Meanwhile, he lashed out with his left leg as she pushed closer for the attack.

Shen Shuren’s leg twisted up above his head and descended in an ax kick that was aimed at the area between his opponent's neck and shoulder. She raised her offhand in response, cushioning some of the blow. Instantly he felt his sword regain some of its control and used the space to take five steps back as he tried to keep a fighting stance together.

Pain lanced through his sword arm and it trembled as he kept the blade pointed at his opponent. Tiyun Areal looked back at him with a smile and nodded before she charged once more. This time her control seemed shaken and in just a few breaths the two engaged and disengaged half a dozen times.

Booming sounds echoed throughout the arena as their blades met and then silence followed for just a brief period. During this brief period, the two could be seen fighting for control over the space between them as their swords seemed glued together. In that time they wove large and small circles back and forth as each tried to gain position or disengage just slightly to push past the other's defenses.

Finally, the two landed only five paces from each other. For his part, Shen Shuren was covered in dozens of small and medium-sized cuts while his opponent mainly had a few bruises and a single cut on her cheek.

“Disciple Brother Shen Shuren’s technique has advanced by leaps and bounds, commendable.” Tiyun Areal’s voice seemed to carry a tone of excitement and happiness along with her normal aloofness as a spark seemed to ignite in the depths of her eyes.

“Hahaha, you say that however, I'm covered in blood while you're simply enjoying this. Isn’t that slapping my face while calling it a gift?” Shen Shuren laughed as he spoke, a hand cradling his side.

“En, however, it was not meant that way, disciple brother. Previously you only lasted for two and a half exchanges with me using this technique. This performance was markedly better!” A rare smile crossed her lips as she spoke.

“It seems that your memory is as sharp as your sword. Come then, I’m sure you’ve had all the fun you needed tormenting this poor simple disciples brother.” Shen Shurne laughed and smiled wryly.

It was all he could do, after all, he had tried his best. Many martial artists became bitter or angry after being defeated however, he saw it differently. The martial path was a long one and many sought to climb to the apex.

If he couldn’t smile while doing his best along that long road, then when could he? In Shen Shuren’s estimation, as long as one tried their best then one could walk their path with no regrets.

“Disciple brother, your memory is just as good as mine. After all, our mental energy should be comparable. However, I do agree that it's time to end this, let it not be said that I bullied you.” Tiyun Areal replied with a slight chiding nature and cheer in her voice as she nodded her head.

At the same time, she started walking in a slow circle around him while lazy afterimages of her seemed to appear. Soon she changed directions and was walking the other way. With barely enough energy to keep his sword in a fighting position, he could only keep turning to face her.

In the space of two breaths, it felt as if an invisible pressure depended upon him as a circle of Tiyun Areal’s afterimages seemed to be walking all around him in both directions. Suddenly a whistle sounded throughout the air and he saw four hazy copies of her charge toward him. With a roar, Shen Shuren raised his sword and struck out to meet the image nearest him.

At that moment the arrays around the arena blazed to life as the soft sound of footfalls from behind him sounded out. Looking back he could see Tiyun Areal standing there with her sword outstretched as if she just finished slashing outward. Suddenly Shen Shuren felt an intense line of pain arc in a diagonal line from his left shoulder to his thigh as his vision turned black…

A grunt filled the air as Fan Zhong landed a blow against the inside of his opponent's midsection. The shorter wandering martial artist quickly twisted, bringing his sword down in a downward arc to counterattack. With a quick lurch Fan Zhong throw his momentum to the left causing his body to fall in that direction.

Right before he hit the ground his shoulder pressed forward as he tumbled in a roll before coming up in a fighting stance with the end of his staff held towards the enemy. In his mind a steady drum beat tolled, signaling each movement in the fight. Just two steps away from him his opponent held hands close to his right side.

It was obvious that the man was struggling to hold his two-handed sword while trying to cradle the wound. Silence was all that entered Fan Zhong’s mind as the roar from the watching crowd was drowned out in his mental space. Again and again, the drums beat, each sound eliciting a step as he slowly circled the man.

Looking at him closer a shocking resemblance could be seen to Fan Yong. Both of them were around the same height and had a similar build. For his part, however, the wandering martial artist had black hair with traces of dark red streaking throughout. His eyes carried a savage light that was set upon brown irises.

With an effort of will Fan Zhong pressed his mental energy to focus on only the tip of his staff and his opponent's every movement. A red outline appeared around the man that trembled each time he breathed or even slightly moved. The butt end of his staff was already moving in rapid circular movements and soon that transferred to the top.

In just a breath Fan Zhong’s staff seemed like it was leaving shadows behind in the air as it moved as the top end moved in circles as he stepped closer bit by bit with circular movements. From an outside perspective, it seemed as if his weapon were moving in the circular patterns of a swordsman attempting to gain an advantage in a bind. However, there was no opposing weapon, only the air.

To his opponent it seemed as if the staff was appearing in many places, approaching from angles just out of view. Suddenly the ground under Fan Zhong’s feet cracked as he charged forward. A shout came from the wandering martial artist as he attempted to thrust forward at Fan Zhong’s chest.

From his point of view, it was as if the staff was moving straight and then curved around his sword, striking directly at his chest. Runes lit up around the arena and the green runes of the emergency medical array lit up as well. In an instant, the air cracked with a vertical disc-shaped shockwave from the impact point as the wandering martial artist was sent flying.

Cracking sounds could be heard as his body flew into the perimeter fence of the arena and actually broke one of the boards that were used to make the fence. These boards weren’t high-grade natural treasures but even still, the low-quality natural treasure wood was harder than mundane steel. Aghast expressions could be heard from the crowd as sect medical staff rushed to see to the man’s injuries.

“Hmmm, good struggle. You fought well.” Fan Zhong intoned with a tone of respect as he clasped his hands in a martial salute at the crumpled form of the man from across the arena.

With that he simply walked to the gate and left, moving to find Fan Yong.