Chương 36: 23.1. Hiding Snakes and Rising Dragons

In the Clear Mirror sect, flags and banners lined the edges of the bridge leading to Starry Mountain. Ahead, the sect arena rose almost a hundred meters into the sky. Some were of the clear Mirror sect's golden mirror on a violet banner, others were the empire's golden dragon while others had all kinds of colors and symbols. A boy in orange robes with a golden fire emblem rushed past, joining a group of similarly robed disciples.

One of the people from the group looked at the joining disciple for a moment, then turned to another group and shouted, "Heh, still dressing like a circus? Will the Grand Star sect be performing their star dance again this year?" The group of dark blue and red disciples with silver embroidery all looked over, several smeared and looked away while a younger looking girl shouted back, "Is the Fire Emblem sect going to light some torches and call them Fire Qi weapons?"

The two groups began to bicker and insult each other relentlessly, different people responding each time.

"So the Fire Emblem sect and Grand Star sect are enemies." Tao noted it down in his notebook.

"No. They're allied so closely it's sometimes hard to tell which of them is doing what when the empire assigns the sect tasks." Aneroze spoke bluntly, waving her fan around.

"..." Tao stared at Aneroze, then looked back to the bickering groups. His eye twitched before he rubbed the charcoal off and wrote down what Aneroze said. On the side, Foria muttered under her breath, "not a single person thought to tell me about the competition coming up…"

"Well my thought was that you would have already known." Aneroze responded. Foria ignored her and turned to Tao, "you're participating?" Tao nodded, "Of course! Who do you think I am?" He raised his fist and pointed with his thumb to the new glaive strapped to his back.

"You didn't say anything until after registration was over?"

"Ah— Well— you know— it was a last minute registration…" Tao looked away. He had completely forgotten about the whole thing since he immediately went on another mission after signing up. It wasn't until he was trying to go on another mission the other day and was told he couldn't leave for the duration of the tournament that he had remembered. The group entered the massive building that took up most of the flattened mountain top, navigating past dense groups of disciples and spectators who had come to watch.

"... So the Ruby Demonic sect has been so bold?" Tao overheard someone ask. He looked over and saw a man with graying hair in black and gold robes with a purple sash speaking to another man with long, slick black hair wearing dark purple robes. Anerose glanced over, "The prefectural governor of Azure Water province and elder Thorn." She explained.

"It's troubling, but a minor matter. The sect founder wiped out their sect a hundred years ago before he disappeared. They're only a rag tag group of surviving Golden Core deacons who've managed to reach Nascent Soul through some miracle." Thorn dismissed the issue.

"Our core disciple, Mei Hua has been tracking them since the sect recruitment, she'll return with news soon." Tao watched the two pass them, circling the mountain path before tearing his gaze from them and looking up at the massive granite blocks stacked together to make the arena. The three walked under a wide arc bored into the arena, lit up by gentle blue glows on the walls, before turning down a hall and ascending some stairs.

One more turn down a thinner path, following the other two, sunlight poured through the exit. Tao squinted his eyes slightly as they walked out into the sunlight after traversing the dark corridors.

"FELLOW DAOISTS! The time is now upon us! As soon as the fire is lit— the four thousand and thirty fourth Rising Dragons and Phoenixes competition— Will begin!" A Voice reverberated, stunning Tao still for a moment before his vision fully adjusted. The amphitheater around the arena was massive. He knew it from the disciples induction already, but his view had been obscured by the arena itself which had towered above him when he was standing before it in front of the elders and deacons.

The square arena was easily over two thousand meters across, with wooden seats built across the large granite blocks surrounding the whole thing. Then, on one side of the arean, Tao saw a massive, floating wooden structure above the amphitheater lined with spacious pavilions. Even from here, Tao could feel a weight gently pressing on him.

"Hey." Tao felt a tug on his sleeve and he turned to see Foria.

"My, dawdling as usual are we?" Aneroze commented as she walked through the stands without stopping.

"Hey, I'm not gonna be fighting any Open Palace realm disciples here am I?" Tao asked, following Foria to catch up.

"Of course not. My, if they didn't separate by realm then even an inadequate Open Palace realm cultivator might get the opportunity to participate in the capital's main competition." Aneroze scoffed, waving her fan around with her eyes closed.

"HAAA!!!!!" The air seemed to explode, Tao covered his ears as a cacophony of cheers reverberated across the arena. Even the ground seemed to tremble beneath Tao.

"Roooaar!!!"

"Screeee!!!" He turned his head to see a colossal dragon and phoenix made of fire rise from the centre of the arena.

"The four thousand and thirty fourth Rising Dragons and Phoenixes competition— BEGINS! Fire Emblem sect disciple… versus… Emerald Blade sect disciple…" Two names were called out and a few moments later, from amongst the sea of colors littering the stands, Tao saw two people rush through and leap from the edges of the stands to the arena. Without waiting for a signal, the two charged at each other from their sides of the arena.

From the stands, Tao watched as one disciple made some kind of gesture, before a ball of flames shot out towards the other disciple. Still over a hundred meters away, the other disciple adjusted their sprint to dodge, letting the ball of fire sail past them as they closed the distance, drawing a blade.

"... they adjust course to avoid the fireball and close the distance. It looks like our fire emblem disciple's in trouble, he tries to run back to gain distance but it looks like he should have spent more time running because our Emerald Blade disciple had caught up and— Surrender! The first match of the day goes to the Emerald blade disciple…" Tao looked around for the detached voice.

"Whose announcing?" He asked.

"The president of the Heavenly Leaderboard committee." Aneroze answered, before sitting everyone down in a relatively clear area near the bottom of the stands. From here there was a good view of the arena, but it was still difficult to see the fights with how big the arena was.

"Do I need to bring a telescope tomorrow? It's hard to see the fights."

"Learn a pupil technique. Or wait until the Inner Sect Disciple battles." Aneroze informed him.

"Why wait until the Inner Sect disciple fights?"

"Well, the second half of them at least." Aneroze mumbled in response, before tapping her fan against her chin, "I've been told the first half of the inner sect disciple battles are disappointing since a lot of people with rushed and third-rate foundations try to compete."

"..." It still didn't answer Tao's question but after opening his mouth and seeing Aneroze fall deep into thought, he decided to shut up and watch. The next two opponents were called out and jumped into the arena. One threw knives while the other used a fan and some kind of wind attack. Tao brushed a hand against his glaive. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Most people don't like close combat." Foria commented. Tao looked at her puzzled.

"My brother told me." She shrugged.

"He also told me that's why most people are weak at close range. Tao mulled it over, rubbing his chin as he turned back to the fights. They didn't last long, most were just a few exchanges before one side surrendered, raising both hands in defeat and bowing out of the arena. Faust pulled out another book, adding to the pile he had formed on the table of an isolated alcove he had chosen as his new temporary home.

A small table attached to the end of a bookshelf, only a thin bench with a chair, enough to place a book down and read. He placed the pile of books on the ground next to the table, before dragging the old, creaking chair across the floor and sitting down. A few books flew overhead between the ancient bookcases before splitting off to different isles and depositing themselves on the shelves. Faust opened the first book of the new pile, resting on the narrow table with his lantern sitting on the edge beside it.

"Notes on the central continents Heavenly Deflection technique…" Faust began reading. At the same time, in the northeast of the empire, a provincial capital was in the middle of its own Rising Dragons and Phoenixes tournament. Cheers roared from the sides of a massive wooden arena, overlooked by several towering pagodas where elaborately dressed men and women were exchanging pleasantries.

A fair skinned, black haired man in gaudy robes smiled gently at his opponent on the other side of the arena, a burly man covered in scars. The burly man snarled, then charged, his feet thumping against the ground and leaving cracks on the stone.

"Description— in theory, deflects the trajectory of anything approaching the user..." The scarred man was upon the black haired youth, swinging his sword down to cleave them in half. The blade came down, but veered off course, smashing down beside the youth. The scarred man widened his eyes and tried to twist his body, angling the blade to cut the youth in half, but again, the blade seemed to slide against an obstacle, sailing an inch over the youths head.

"... A point of interest is the technique's offensive use, widening wounds and making them burst should one be able to pierce their opponents body…" The youth suddenly moved, stabbing their hand forward. The scarred man scoffed as the hand barely pierced his skin. He readied his blade again, a white glow coalescing at the edges. The youth's gentle smile twisted menacingly. The shallow wound suddenly curled, the scarred man's flesh parting as if cleaved through by an axe. His eyes widened and he leapt back.

"... Following the above mathematical proof which is the basis of the technique… We can also theorise the use of it as a movement technique…" Faust looked back up to the proof. It used an older convention but he could still picture it. In the arena, under the blistering heat, the youth suddenly shot forward towards the scarred man, practically gliding across the ground without ever touching it.

On reflex, the scarred man swung his blade, but as with the first two times, it missed, harmlessly swinging past the youth as they plunged their hand into the scared man's chest. The wound was shallow, but the scarred man didn't care, he tried to throw both hands up to surrender, but bone suddenly shifted, stunning him in pain as flesh parted to reveal his heart.

"... While originally a righteous technique, the effectiveness of parting flesh and retrieving organs turned this technique into a signature technique of the dark path…" Faust skimmed the rest of the descriptions, before jotting down some notes, mainly about the mathematical concept behind how you could move various Qi's to produce the technique's effect.

In the arena to the empires north east, despite a contestant dying with his heart pulled out, cheers still rang all around, even as the scarred man desperately tried to signal with his last breath that a demonic cultivator stood in front of them. Only a few people stood from their seats and rushed out of the stands, their faces pale, while those in the pavilion just watched on without interest. Faust opened the next book.

"Evolution of the Tortoise concealment technique to the Dark Tortoise Supreme technique." He turned the pages. Dust filling his nose and making his throat dry as he did. At the edge of Green Terrace province, where the smell of smoke filled the air in every direction, mixing with a heavy iron scent, an old man in thick, rough clothes stalked through the woods, messy green hair stained with blood. He muttered a name as grass, rocks and branches all cracked and broke under his slow but heavy steps.

There was a shift in the air, a rapid crunching of twigs and leaves. Burly creatures that resembled a man but with legs closer to horses and cow shaped heads and faces rushed out of the brush and swung their axes at the old man.

"It began as a modification to the breathing technique, using the breath as a tool to transform a unique Qi that clung to the user, creating a defensive shell around the user that scales with the realm, like a tortoise shell, it regenerates through breathing and is always active. While a highly guarded secret by the Dark Tortoise clan, the following chapters are an analysis of several copycat techniques Qi operations." The first horse man's attack landed.

The ground shattered, uprooting nearby trees, yet the horse man was thrown off balance, the axe' edge chipped and mangled. The second horse man arrived and swung horizontally. Another shockwave of air rattled the forest.

"... The second characteristic observed through combat with the Dark Tortoise clan is locking things in place within the Qi shell… A characteristic not found in any of the copycat techniques…" The horseman snorted, his arms bulging and trembling as the old man slowly looked towards him, the axe practically glued to his body. The first horseman roared, throwing the axe away and bringing his massive fists down upon the old man. The old man raised a hand, catching the fist.

Suddenly, both horse men were stuck, their weapon and fist stuck to the old man as by glue.

"... While not a copy cat technique, there are some similarities in the copycat techniques with the Divine Bull technique commonly found in technique markets…" The old man took another step forward, both horse men grunted and roared as they were dragged along, their hooves digging trenches through the ground. The old man barely looked at them, muttering under his breath, cursing the barbarian tribes.

Reading through the last of the copycat techniques, Faust put down the book, filling several more pages of his notebook. Whilst most of the copycat techniques were subpar on a cursory glance, there was a lot to be said about some of the unique methods and ideas employed. Even if they were ultimately wasted or buried in senseless scribbles. The next scroll he pulled out had an ominous title.

"Art of resurrection. Body, Spirit and Soul." Obviously it was either fake or incomplete, but in his experience, Faust had found every technique related to resurrection was something monstrous. Not always a good kind, but there was always something about them. The saying that it was a fine line between genius and madness had merit.

"Soul chapter. The first act of resurrection is retrieval of the soul. So long as the soul is alive, resurrection is easy…" Faust wrinkled his nose at that, how could it be so easy. There were innumerable problems with it. He had dabbled in it a little, but lost interest just as quickly. Math was a useful tool, but it was also limited to logical systems. People might think life and death is logical, but trying to find the line between what's alive and what's not immediately made any scholar realise the difficulty.

The first issue with resurrection was defining life and death. A task deemed impossible. Deep in the mountains, hidden under such thick shrubbery that the ground was pitch black— A warped hut glowed with blue light. A warped white wisp resembling a human passed through the walls of the hut, rushing away before crashing against an invisible barrier. It clawed at the obstruction but it was futile as the wisp was sucked back into the hut.

An old woman with a crooked nose, hairy warts and a sagging, glossy grey eye hooked a finger, dragging the wisp back into a large cauldron filled with bubbling faces. The old witch looked up. A young man with white hair looked impassively at the cauldron. Her gaze passed over him and reached the long, blue haired woman standing subserviently to the side, hands crossed and looking at the ground.

"You know what you have to do… Yes?" The old witch asked. The blue haired woman looked down even further, "Yes…" She spoke meekly. The old witch pointed a finger to the side, where a mangled body hung on a hook.

"Remember, you have to succeed, or else I can't guarantee your sister's resurrection will go well."

"... I understand…" The blue haired woman responded. The old witch looked at her, a good eye peaking out below the oversized hat, then it shifted back to the young man.

"And you. What took you so long to gather those demonic beasts?"

"One of the Clear Mirror sect's disciples kept attacking us relentlessly. Only when I wasn't looking, even when I specifically searched for him." The young man shrugged. The old witch looked at him intently, then humphed, staring back at the cauldron.

"Be ready. The Rising Dragons and Phoenixes competition will reach its peak tomorrow." She spat, "and you!" She pointed at the blue haired girl, "did you turn that core disciple into a skin suit?"

"... Yes…" The blue haired girl replied, still not looking up, her face completely covered by her hair.

"Good. Wear it and return to the Clear Mirror sect tonight. Tell them you found the Ruby Demonic Sect hideout and let them prepare to attack us." The blue haired girl shivered, but didn't respond, quietly shifting out of the hut. The old witch watched her leave, then turned back to the cauldron.

"Such uselessly flawless skin and lustrous long hair. Just wait until you're no longer useful to me." The white haired young man didn't respond, idly studying one of the skulls hanging from the ceiling.

"Did you not hear me?" The young man tore his gaze away, slowly walking towards the exit.

"I've already double, triple and quadruple checked the traps. None of the elders who come to attack us will survive. Except the sect master perhaps, but I'll leave him to my betters." The old witch snorted, hearing the door slam behind the young man.

"Our next match! Clear Mirror sect disciple! Versus Emerald Blade sect disciple…" The voice rang out across the arena. … Foria elbowed Tao.

"Huh!? Huh! What's happening!?" He suddenly sat straight frantically looking around him.

"Twenty seconds! Long Tao! Enter the arena!"

"My, it looks like you'll lose by default." Aneroze teased. Even with his eyes halved closed, hearing he'd lose, Tao immediately spirited forward and leapt, as high as he could. Unfortunately, the circular seating area was too far from the edge of the square arena and he began falling short.

"The glaive technique!" The old ghost shouted and Tao's eyes widened.

"HYAAH!!!" He roared, drawing his glaive from his back and thrusting it in the air. He suddenly shot upward, high in the sky.

"Five! Four! Three! Two!" The announcer counted down. With a CRASH! Long Tao landed near the center of the arena.

"I'm here!" He declared as loudly as he could.

"Booo!" Suddenly he heard some booing from his own sect. He glanced at the area of seats mostly occupied by Clear Mirror disciples. Why!? He swore internally. Shouldn't they be encouraging him as fellow martial brothers and sisters.