Chương 54: 1.54 First Battle

The arena for this competition had only recently been completed. Even from a distance, it was impossible to miss. Massive stone platforms rose in layered tiers, reinforced with formation patterns etched deep into the walls. After all, earth-attributed cultivators were also skilled construction workers, so making such a structure was not particularly hard for them. In fact, with the amount of damage each cultivator does to the surroundings, their construction skills were second to none.

Similarly, because of the competition, the entire pathway leading to the arena was packed. Disciples streamed in from every direction, voices overlapping in excited chatter. Some were loudly discussing rankings, others reviewing techniques one last time, while many simply came to witness the spectacle. Ning and the others didn't linger. After a bit of maneuvering through the crowd, they quickly found suitable seats. Not too far, where even subtle movements would be lost.

Not too close, where the overall flow of the battle would be hard to grasp. As far as Ning was concerned, it was a choice spot.

"This place is great," Zhang Feng said with a satisfied nod.

"Your choice is pretty good."

"It's nothing worth mentioning," Ning replied modestly. After all, finding the right seat was a skill he'd honed in his previous life; lecture halls had a way of teaching that lesson early. Lang Rulang sat down beside them without a word, arms crossed, her expression cold enough to chill the air. She stared straight ahead at the arena, her brows faintly knit. Ning glanced at her, then leaned slightly toward Zhang Feng.

"Did something happen to her? She seems grumpier than usual." Zhang Feng followed his gaze, then suddenly leaned in and whispered, sounding far too confident, "Obviously."

"Obviously?" Ning echoed.

"She didn't make the top ten prediction ranking," Zhang Feng said with a solemn nod.

"If I had to guess, that's definitely why she's mad." Ning paused.

"…You sure about that?"

"Absolutely," Zhang Feng replied without hesitation. Lang Rulang snorted.

"Keep running your mouth," she said coolly, eyes still fixed on the arena.

"If we end up in the same arena, I'll make sure you're the first one I knock out." Zhang Feng stiffened instantly.

"H-Hey, I was just analyzing the situation! Strategically!" Ning leaned back slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching despite himself. As they settled in, he let his gaze wander across the field. The arena was massive, far larger than it appeared from the outside. With such a huge crowd, chatter was inevitable.

"Did you see Qiu Han's profile? Peak sixth stage already!"

"They say Jin Su's wolf is almost as strong as she is."

"Hey, did you hear? There's a spiritual farmer ranked tenth." That last comment made Zhang Feng choke.

"… That's you, right?" he whispered. Ning nodded calmly. Being placed tenth in the prediction rankings naturally made him one of the more talked-about contestants. Strangely enough, Ning felt more amused than annoyed. If anything, it only reinforced his impression. So I really am just a mob, he thought. After all, a true dark horse wouldn't even appear on such a list. Someone like Xiao Fan, for instance, was completely unranked. As the murmurs continued, a subtle pressure swept across the stands.

Conversations died down one by one. Someone who could exert such pressure was likely an elder. So, that meant the competition was about to begin. As expected, an old man stepped onto the central platform. He wore plain sect robes, yet the moment he appeared, the air itself seemed to steady.

"I am Shu Jin," the elder said calmly.

"I will be presiding over this competition." His gaze swept across the arena before he continued, his voice neither loud nor forceful, yet it carried effortlessly to every corner.

"The Outer Sect Competition," Shu Jin announced, "will now begin." He paused, letting the words sink in.

"The first round will follow a simple rule," he continued.

"Ten participants per arena. A free-for-all. Only the final person standing may advance to the next round." A murmur rippled through the crowd, though most had already expected as much.

"Second," the elder added, his gaze sweeping across the seated disciples, "killing is strictly forbidden. Any disciple who deliberately takes a life will be immediately disqualified and punished according to sect law.

"Of course, we will intervene the moment a situation becomes truly dangerous. Your jade tokens are also linked to the arena formations. Should you suffer a serious injury, the formation will automatically eject you. Still, do not rely on this alone. Remain vigilant at all times." That, at least, eased some of the tension. Under normal circumstances, the arena served another purpose entirely; it was used for duels. Yes, duels.

If two disciples harbored enmity or had grievances to settle, this was the place where they could fight openly under the sect's supervision. Killing others was not permitted, though some young masters would occasionally ignore this rule and kill their opponents. After all, "accidental" deaths were a thing. So, with the elder here, at least one's life is secure.

"Third," the elder said, his tone sharpening slightly, "disciples with secondary professions must abide by additional restrictions." Ning straightened slightly. This was one of the points he had been most concerned about. After all, certain secondary professions could be outright unfair in a format like this if left completely unrestricted.

"Talisman makers may only use talismans they have personally crafted. Alchemists may only consume pills they refined themselves. Artifact refiners may only wield tools of their own making." The elder raised a finger.

"Furthermore, the number of such items will be limited. Do not think to overwhelm the arena through preparation alone." That caused a more noticeable reaction. Ning's thoughts moved quickly. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. This prevents wealthy disciples from stockpiling resources, he realized. And it forces secondary professions to demonstrate real skill, not just spending power.

At the same time, it also protected ordinary cultivators from being buried under consumables.

"Lastly," the elder said, his gaze sweeping across the arena, "I expect you all to give it everything you have." With that, he swept his sleeve.

"When your jade token lights up, step into the assigned arena immediately. Any delay will be treated as a forfeit." The elder stepped back. Light flared across the stands. One by one, jade tokens began to glow, each shining with a different hue as names were silently assigned. Ning glanced down at his own token, already turning over the implications of the rules, how much of his preparation he could safely reveal, how much he should hold back, how much he should push himself. His thoughts cut off abruptly.

His jade token flashed brightly. Ning blinked once.

"Well," Zhang Feng said with a grin, clapping him on the shoulder, "looks like you're lucky. First one from our association to go." Lang Rulang glanced over, her expression cool as ever.

"Don't embarrass us." Wei Zhusang gave a small nod.

"Do your best." There were other members who encouraged him as well. Ning rose to his feet.

"So soon," he murmured, his expression calm as he stepped forward. The first round had begun.... High above the arena, on a raised viewing platform reserved for the sect's upper ranks, two elders sat overlooking the battlefield below. One of them frowned slightly as he watched the disciples enter their respective arenas.

"This year's competition has caused quite a stir," he said.

"I've already received several complaints. Some of the older outer sect disciples are unhappy that they aren't allowed to participate." The elder beside him let out a soft chuckle.

"That was inevitable," Elder Hu Sheng replied calmly.

"But this decision wasn't made lightly. It was a direct order from the Purple Mansion elder." Du Zhen raised an eyebrow.

"So it really is confirmed?" Hu Sheng nodded.

"Five years from now, the Flowing Light Secret Realm will open." Du Zhen's expression shifted slightly.

"I see… so that's the reason." His gaze drifted back toward the arenas below, where groups of young disciples were entering as their jade tokens lit up one after another.

"No wonder they restricted this competition to newcomers," Du Zhen continued.

"They're preparing in advance."

"Exactly," Hu Sheng said.

"That secret realm has strict entry conditions: age under thirty, and cultivation no higher than Qi Condensation. Anyone who misses this window won't get another chance." Du Zhen laughed softly.

"Then these youngsters are truly fortunate. Opportunities like that don't come often."

"Fortunate, yes," Hu Sheng agreed.

"But fortune alone isn't enough. It also depends on how we cultivate them." The two elders fell silent for a moment, simply watching.

"Luckily," Du Zhen said after a pause, "this batch is among the best we've had in decades. Not only do we have Xiao Qing with her top-grade spiritual root, but there are also four high-grade ones. And the number of clan heirs admitted this year far surpasses previous generations." Hu Sheng nodded.

"True. The overall quality is impressive."

"Unfortunately," Du Zhen added thoughtfully, "Xiao Qing stands far above the rest. Her strength is already visible."

"But that doesn't mean the others lack potential," Hu Sheng replied.

"There are quite a few promising seedlings." Du Zhen nodded slowly, eyes still on the arena below.

"If even a third of them benefit from the secret realm," he said, "the sect will reap enormous rewards." Just then, a ripple of disturbance spread through the crowd below. Du Zhen narrowed his eyes.

"Hm?" The arena formations dimmed rapidly. Shu Jin's voice echoed faintly: "Winner, confirmed." Du Zhen paused, then let out a low chuckle.

"Already? It's only been a few minutes." Hu Sheng followed his gaze, his eyes sharpening slightly.

"Interesting." His gaze lingered on that arena for a brief moment before shifting away.

"We're not just looking for obvious talent," Hu Sheng said quietly.

"We're looking for surprises." He smiled faintly.

"And it seems one has already appeared."... The light on Ning's jade token faded as he stepped into the arena. Ten figures stood scattered across the stone platform. Ning's gaze swept over them once. One at the fifth stage of Qi Condensation. Three at the fourth stage. Five at the third. No obvious monsters. No top-ranked contenders. And finally, no protagonist.

'It seems my luck is not that bad.' Ning thought. After all, there were quite a few monsters in this competition. At the same time, several gazes locked onto him. It was obvious that the prediction rankings had circulated widely. As a result, Ning naturally became a point of focus. A fifth-stage cultivator with a secondary profession certificate and ranked tenth in predictions was hard to ignore. In a free-for-all, anyone who looked even slightly dangerous naturally became a target.

Especially since the rankings didn't just list names; they included brief descriptions. Enough for others to single out their targets at a glance. Ning was no exception. If anything, he stood out even more. Among the other contestants, he looked noticeably young. Whether it was due to the advanced state of his Jade Skin refinement or simply his natural features, Ning appeared barely fifteen years old. He wasn't sure how to feel about that. After all, at this stage, he looked more cute than handsome.

And being handsome was a lifetime thing.

'Alas, this must be the price for power.' Ning joked to himself, calming his nerves. The formation barrier sealed shut. A sharp chime echoed across the arena, signaling the start of the match. Almost immediately, several contestants turned toward Ning.

"Take him out first," the lone Fifth Stage Qi Condensation disciple said coldly.

"After that, we settle things among ourselves." The others nodded without hesitation. Ning wasn't surprised. Standing out naturally meant becoming everyone's first target. Instead of retreating, he calmly tapped the ground with the butt of his spear and formed a hand seal. The instant spiritual fluctuations spread across the arena, cold qi burst outward. [Hidden Ice Mist Technique: Great Accomplishment] A dense white mist erupted in every direction, swallowing the arena almost instantly.

It rolled across the stone floor like a living tide, devouring the contestants one after another until even the sound of their footsteps became muffled.

"What?!"

"How did he cast that so quickly?"

"I can't see anything!"

"Watch where you're-" A dull thud interrupted the complaint as two disciples stumbled into one another. Panic spread almost immediately. The Hidden Ice Mist wasn't merely a screen that blocked vision. Distance became difficult to judge, sounds echoed from the wrong directions, and the ever-present cold slowly dulled both the senses and the body. Within that sea of white, however, Ning remained perfectly calm.

His breathing slowed as Turtle Breathing quietly concealed his presence, reducing even the faintest trace of leaking qi. The moment he had learned the rules of the examination, he'd already decided on his strategy. A free-for-all was, by its very nature, chaotic. Since everyone would naturally target the strongest opponent first, the simplest solution was to ensure nobody could tell where that opponent was.

Many disciples considered the Hidden Ice Mist Technique little more than a farming spell, useful for controlling temperature or protecting spiritual plants. Ning had never shared that opinion. Anything capable of limiting an opponent's senses had value. At Great Accomplishment, its greatest weakness-the painfully slow casting time-had almost disappeared after countless refinements.

By simplifying the seals and optimizing the flow of qi, Ning could now flood an entire battlefield with mist in the span of a single breath. The second weakness remained. The mist blinded its caster as thoroughly as everyone else. For most cultivators, that would have made the technique self-defeating. For Ning, he had a solution. Spatial Awareness. The world around him reconstructed itself without relying on sight.

Every shift in air pressure, every vibration beneath his feet, every movement through the mist painted a rough picture of the battlefield inside his mind. A disciple charged blindly through the fog. Ning stepped aside with practiced ease. His bowstring hummed as an arrow vanished into the mist. A muffled cry rang out, followed by the unmistakable sound of a body collapsing onto the stone floor. One. Before anyone could react, another disciple unleashed a broad flame technique in an attempt to burn the fog away.

Flames surged through the arena, briefly carving a clear path through the mist. It lasted less than a heartbeat. By then, Ning had already moved. Another arrow flashed through the opening and struck the disciple squarely in the shoulder. His spell immediately collapsed, and he tumbled unconscious before the flames had even finished dispersing. Two. Nearby, another contestant panicked and began slashing wildly at empty air. Ning slipped silently behind him.

The butt of his spear struck the back of the disciple's neck with pinpoint precision. Three. By now, the arena had descended into complete chaos. Some contestants retreated blindly. Others crouched defensively, afraid to move. One even suppressed his qi completely, hoping to disappear into the fog. It made little difference. Ning drifted through the battlefield like a silent shadow, never remaining in one place for more than an instant.

Every arrow found its mark with unnerving precision, striking shoulders, knees, wrists, and joints before its owner could even locate the attacker. Whenever someone finally thought they had discovered his position, he had already melted back into the mist. One disciple fell. Then another. Then two more in quick succession. The temporary alliance dissolved almost as quickly as it had formed, replaced by confusion and mutual suspicion.

Unable to distinguish friend from foe, the remaining contestants hesitated, and that single moment of uncertainty was all Ning needed. Only one opponent remained standing. The Fifth Stage disciple's face twisted with frustration." Wind Scythe!" Violent qi erupted from his body, sweeping through the arena with enough force to push the surrounding mist aside. For the first time since the battle began, visibility returned. It was only for a moment before the mist began to gather again.

Out of the corner of his eye, the disciple caught sight of a figure. His pupils contracted as he instinctively raised his sword. But it was too late. Ning exploded forward in a blur, covering the remaining distance before the man could complete his guard. Rather than using his spear, he simply drove a single body-refinement-enhanced punch straight into the disciple's abdomen. The impact blasted the air from the man's lungs.

His body flew backward, slammed heavily into the formation barrier, and slowly slid down the wall before collapsing unconscious. The arena fell silent as the mist dissipated. Ten figures had entered the arena. Only one remained standing. The elder's voice echoed calmly.

"Winner, Ji Ning."... Thanks for reading~