iu Yin stood on the fighting platform, the roar of the crowd washing over him like a living wave. He soaked in the energy, letting the excitement and anticipation of thousands of spectators fuel his focus. Thankfully the overcast sky kept the sapping of his energy to a minimum. The clouds hung low and heavy, blocking most of the sun’s harsh rays. It was the best possible condition for him today.
It was best to choose someone strong so he could go all out. He had no belief he could win the entire tournament, but his goal was to impress the observers from the sects. A strong showing here could open doors that would otherwise remain closed.
The announcer’s voice rang out once more. “Jiu Yin has won his first match! Challenger, do you wish to challenge someone else, or shall we open the floor to volunteers?”
Jiu Yin did not hesitate. He turned toward the seating area where the Yin Clan’s top talents were gathered and pointed directly at one of them. “I choose him.”
The arena fell into a stunned silence for a brief moment before erupting into a storm of conversation.
Most of the crowd was mocking him. “How dare he challenge the arguably top talent in the city among the three clans!”
“Look at this nobody! He just won one match and thinks he can face someone like that?”
“He deserves to be beaten for even suggesting it. What arrogance!”
The disbelief and ridicule spread like wildfire through the stands. Some laughed openly. Others shook their heads in disbelief.
Jiu Yin simply shrugged, his expression calm beneath the shadow of his hood. “I shouldn’t be scared to fight someone a fraction of their cultivation level,” he said loud enough for the nearby spectators to hear.
In the Yin Clan seating area, their top talent smiled and sat up from his lounging position. He was a tall, confident young man with long dark hair tied in a neat ponytail. His robes were well-kept and clearly made for fighting rather than formal events. A wicked but interested smile graced his face.
“You want to fight me?” he called down, voice carrying across the arena. “I think you are overconfident! Why should I accept?”
Jiu Yin looked up at him steadily. “I wish to see how far I have to climb. Do me the privilege.”
The Yin Clan’s top talent let out a short laugh, clearly amused. “Very well! I will honor such a request.”
He jumped down from the seating area with graceful ease and landed lightly on the edge of the platform. He drew his one-handed sword in a smooth motion, the blade gleaming under the overcast sky. His long dark hair swayed slightly as he took his position opposite Jiu Yin.
The crowd’s murmurs grew even louder. The tension in the arena thickened as the two fighters faced each other.
Yin Zhao stood tall and composed, his one-handed sword held ready. His eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and challenge as he regarded Jiu Yin.
From the viewing platform, the sect observers reacted in their own ways.
The loud and boisterous observer from Thousand Peaks Mountain Sect laughed loudly. “Foolish! Challenging someone with such a cultivation gap? This boy has courage, but courage without strength is just stupidity!”
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The regal and refined observer from Jade Valley spoke more measuredly. “It is bold, perhaps overly so. Yin Zhao is clearly superior in cultivation. But boldness can sometimes reveal hidden potential.”
The quiet observer from Crimson Moon Valley said nothing. He simply stared intently at Jiu Yin, his eyes sharp and unblinking beneath the high collar that obscured half his face.
Jiu Yin stood calmly on the platform, taking in the reactions. He knew he was no match for someone with such a raw cultivation advantage. The gap was significant. But if he burned the blood essence he had left, even with the sun’s weakness (the overcast sky helped, but it still slightly drained him), he should be able to dodge and at least match some of his power, taking him by surprise. If he could get two or three good hits in, it might be enough to prove his skill and catch the attention of one of the sects.
Yin Zhao bowed respectfully, drawing his blade in a smooth, practiced motion. Jiu Yin was surprised at how noble of character Yin Zhao had. Many who were elite would often be offended by the mere request of someone like him from a vassal house.
Jiu Yin began to activate his Qi. Blood boiling was one of the most basic of Sanguinari abilities, and he had only just learned how to do it with this new magic system in this world. Thus he wasn’t confident he could do anything more than this. Sanguinari didn’t all fall into the same magic camps, and in this world magic wasn’t really magic in the way his previous world worked.
The battle began with Yin Zhao immediately charging, taking Jiu Yin slightly by surprise.
Yin Zhao closed the distance in an instant. His Dancing Crane sword style was well known. Some in the crowd commented excitedly as he moved.
“Watch! Yin Zhao’s Dancing Crane is unmatched in speed!”
“None of them sensed his own ability. Look at that frozen fool — he’s done for!”
Yin Zhao swept his one-handed sword in a wide, graceful arc. The blade whistled through the air with deadly precision, aiming straight for Jiu Yin’s shoulder. The attack was fast and fluid, the sword leaving a faint trail of silver Qi in its wake.
Jiu Yin felt the shift inside him. This is it, he thought. He activated his blood boiling. The sensation was visceral and overwhelming. His blood surged through his veins like molten fire. His muscles swelled and tightened, filling with raw power. Adrenaline flooded his system, sharpening every sense. Oddly, his meridians flared as well, something he had not expected. The crimson energy mixed with the world’s Qi in a chaotic but potent way, giving him a sudden burst of strength and endurance. This world’s system is different, but I can use it.
He dodged at the last possible moment. The blade sliced through the air where his shoulder had been, missing by a hair’s breadth. He felt the wind of the strike brush against his skin. Too close. He’s fast. Without hesitation, he used his body to sweep low, aiming a powerful kick at Yin Zhao’s shins to knock him off balance.
Yin Zhao noticed the counter instantly. He jumped backward with graceful ease, his feet barely touching the platform as he landed several steps away. His sword never stopped moving, already preparing for the next strike.
The fight continued. Jiu Yin was clearly outclassed in raw cultivation and technique. He’s better trained. His movements are polished. Yin Zhao’s sword danced around him in a series of rapid, elegant strikes. Each swing was precise and powerful. Jiu Yin dodged and weaved, using every bit of his enhanced endurance to stay just out of reach. A slash grazed his arm, drawing a thin line of blood. Another cut across his side, stinging sharply. He felt the pain, but the boiling blood kept him moving, kept him fighting. I can endure this. Just a little longer.
He landed a few solid hits. A punch to the ribs that made Yin Zhao grunt. A kick to the thigh that forced him to step back. Good. He felt that. But it was not enough. Yin Zhao was faster, more skilled, and his cultivation advantage was overwhelming. I’m still too far behind in pure power.
Finally, Yin Zhao used a clever move. He feinted left, then disappeared in a blur of motion. He reappeared behind Jiu Yin before he could react. The cold edge of his blade pressed against Jiu Yin’s neck.
Yin Zhao smiled, breathing steady. “Good fight, but you are still too far behind.”
The crowd erupted into conversation. Some praised Jiu Yin’s effort. “He lasted longer than expected against Yin Zhao!”
Others were dismissive. “It was inevitable. A vassal challenging the top talent? Foolish.”
Jiu Yin stood still, the blade at his neck, chest heaving. Not bad for a first real test. I showed enough. The observers saw me. A small, satisfied feeling settled in his chest. He had survived a fight against a much stronger opponent and landed meaningful hits. That was progress.