Chapter 182: Streak of Victories
Yuwen Yao stood frozen in place, watching the azure spiritual energy dissipate on the wind.
Her palms still held their forward posture, though her fingers trembled unconsciously.
“…”
She stared at the lingering golden sword light at Song Yan’s fingertips for a long moment before returning to her senses.
“I…”
She slowly raised her hand, signaling the presiding elder.
“I have lost.”
What was that, just now?
She had felt an unmistakable sensation of death.
She had believed that no cultivator at the Qi Refining stage could endure that strike head-on—she had not even formed a protective spirit-garment.
Had Song Yan not deliberately deflected that thread of sword qi slightly off course, he would have died right here on this platform.
The presiding elder, roused from the astonishment of a battle that far surpassed the typical level of their cultivation stage, cast a deep gaze upon the youth carrying a sword casket on his back.
“Central Platform. Number Seventeen, Song Yan, is victorious.”
The match concluded, yet Yuwen Yao did not leave the stage immediately. She untied the wine gourd from her waist, tilted her head back for a long drink, then flicked it toward Song Yan. “Catch.”
“That last technique—I had originally saved it for Li Yi. I never imagined it would prove insufficient against you.”
Yuwen Yao sighed lightly. The wine gourd arced through the air.
“A fight between strangers makes friends. Should the opportunity arise in the future, I shall come pay you a visit for a proper sparring session.”
Song Yan caught the gourd. Recalling Xiao He’s admonition, she hesitated briefly, but ultimately yielded to courtesy and took a sip.
He did not touch it to his lips, of course—he was particular about such things, and she would need to drink from it again.
After drinking, he channeled his spiritual energy and returned it to her from afar.
“Number Twenty-One of the Earth Tier, Sword-Wiping Peak. I await your arrival at any time.”
With the presiding elder’s declaration of victory, a wave of commotion erupted all around.
In the elders’ seats, Spirit Spring Peak’s Master Yu Tian regarded this young disciple with keen interest. He had some recollection of Song Yan.
He had once brought a batch of disciples to Changping, and this young man had been among them.
He had not expected to later hear that it was this very individual who had forced the myriad troubles in Changping to an abrupt end.
Yet he had never had the proper opportunity to witness such youthful prowess firsthand.
“To see him today—the younger generation is truly something to be wary of,” he remarked.
Daoist Li Jun, too, watched the youth as he withdrew from the arena, his thoughts turning.
Qi Refining, seventh layer. His natal flying sword had only recently been forged—which meant he already possessed his own Sword Dao.
Hmm. It was not too late, then.
His greatest strength at present, perhaps, was his Sword Dao essence.
The Yuwen girl’s defeat was no injustice.
Li Qingfeng and Gu Qingqing sat in the eastern spectator section, thoroughly delighted.
“He won! Senior Brother Song Yan won!”
Little Gu waved her arms in jubilation.
Li Qingfeng regarded her with an odd expression. “Qingqing, whose side are you on, exactly?”
“Hehe, whoever wins, I’m on their side.”
In truth, that was not quite accurate.
Senior Sister Yuwen Yao had always teased her. Senior Brother Song Yan winning was a fine outcome indeed.
But had Senior Sister Yuwen Yao prevailed, she would likely have become even more brazen.
So it was quite clear—she was firmly on Senior Brother Song Yan’s side.
Where there is jubilation, there is also melancholy.
Beyond the seats reserved for the peak masters and the sect leader, there were additional elders’ seats on either flank.
Xu Ziqing, Zhang Guangyuan, Qin Xijun, and the other ordinary elders sat here.
Yang Wenxuan appeared calm on the surface, yet a killing intent lurked within his eyes.
For him:
Those who could not become friends would, in the end, become enemies.
Enemies must be eliminated early.
All the more so for a disciple of such extraordinary talent.
Every failure and every downfall arose from a lack of decisiveness and resolve on the part of the person involved.
A disciple with some small measure of talent was nothing.
Only by sweeping aside the complacent style of Eastern Abyss Sect with bold, decisive strokes could the sect’s path of immortality flourish and ascend to the pinnacle.
A sharp gleam flickered through his eyes, though no one knew what he was thinking.
The final rounds continued.
Perhaps because Song Yan and Yuwen Yao’s match had set such an exceptional standard, the subsequent bouts—normally thrilling in their own right—seemed rather dull to many spectators. After one round of finals, each combatant had their share of victories and losses.
The five victors were: Li Yi, Song Yan, Xiang Zhaoling, Han Yuan, and Lin Qing.
With scarcely any time to rest, the second round of finals commenced.
This time, Song Yan’s opponent was Xiang Zhaoling.
“A fierce battle awaits…”
He regarded Xiang Zhaoling not far away on the dueling platform, his guard fully raised.
“If it is merely a matter of those gu insects’ strength, I should be able to manage.”
Of course, he needed to exercise caution regarding that peculiar Great Strength Excretion Gu.
“Will she summon those venomous insects and beasts?”
The Eye of the Void activated. The Cloud-Traversing Intent operated at full power.
“With everything I have, a fight is not unwinnable.”
He did not spare a thought for what would come afterward—how he would contend with Li Yi if he expended himself fully.
In his estimation, Xiang Zhaoling’s danger was on par with Li Yi’s.
To defeat either of them would surpass the person he had been before.
The Untethered Vessel and the Twin Branches flanked him on left and right, poised and ready, trained upon Xiang Zhaoling as he awaited the presiding elder’s signal to begin.
Under the gaze of the entire arena, Xiang Zhaoling slowly raised her small hand.
Song Yan braced as though facing a great enemy, his sword fingers already pressed together, prepared to unleash his sword qi.
“Elder!”
Xiang Zhaoling smiled sweetly, raising her hand high. “I forfeit.”
“…”
The girl’s clear voice rang across the dueling platform.
The atmosphere, taut as a drawn bowstring, froze in an instant.
The sword qi coalesced at Song Yan’s fingertips stuttered. Even the presiding elder was momentarily stunned before he recovered his wits.
“Southeastern Dueling Platform. Number Seventeen, Song Yan, is victorious!”
The surrounding spectator stands erupted into chaos.
“What?!”
“Junior Sister Xiang just forfeited?”
A female cultivator teased with a grin: “Could it be she fancies Senior Brother Song Yan for his good looks?”
“No! I bet on Junior Sister Xiang to win—twenty spirit stones!!”
Still others offered earnest analysis: “Perhaps it is because Senior Brother Song Yan’s sword qi is too formidable.”
“Even if she managed to eke out a difficult victory, the injuries or exhaustion sustained would leave her unable to continue in the subsequent rounds.”
This explanation gained the assent of most.
Below the dueling platform, Song Yan and Xiang Zhaoling had both returned to the preparation seats.
Song Yan asked, bewildered: “Junior Sister Xiang, what is the meaning of this?”
“Oh, big brother, it’s simple—I can’t beat you yet,” Xiang Zhaoling replied, apparently unconcerned. “My little gu insects are terribly difficult to cultivate. If you slew them all with a single sword strike, where would I go to weep?”
“But… that night, outside the Lingxi Market—the great toad, the great scorpion…”
“Those weren’t mine,” Xiang Zhaoling said, fiddling with her fingernails. “Those were ones I brought back from the Southern Wastes. They belong to my father.”
“If I used those big creatures in the match, it wouldn’t really be me competing—it would be my father competing. How dull would that be?”
Understanding dawned on Song Yan.
“So that is the case.”
With that, the weight in his heart eased somewhat.
Yet what Song Yan had not anticipated was that Xiang Zhaoling’s forfeit seemed to have triggered some sort of forfeit trend.
His next two rounds of matches were against Lin Qing and Shao Sichen.
Both of them forfeited on the spot—he did not even set foot on the dueling platform.
And so, a most peculiar spectacle arose within the finals.
Three consecutive opponents forfeited, propelling Song Yan into an unbroken streak of four victories without a single wound.