Chapter 125: The First Round

At the venue of the Martial Arts Tournament, one hour had passed, and all the registered disciples had gathered here. With hundreds of thousands of registered disciples pouring in, the platform, which had seemed quite spacious, now felt rather crowded.

The gathering of so many disciples caused the scene to gradually descend into chaos. After all, hundreds of thousands of people are no trivial matter, and since they were all martial practitioners brimming with vigor, even the slightest friction could easily ignite a conflict. Furthermore, with crowds of onlookers surrounding the area, such conflicts tended to spread, leading to an increasingly uncontrollable situation. Faced with this turmoil, even the registered disciples were helpless; with their first- or second-rank cultivation levels, they could do nothing against such a massive crowd. Only a few of the stronger deacons stepped forward to exert some level of deterrence, but even they struggled to suppress the scene for long.

Just as the situation was on the verge of spiraling out of control, a cold snort suddenly resonated from above the platform. The sound struck everyone’s heart like a heavy hammer, causing every body to tremble and all movements to cease instantly.

"You registered disciples have some nerve! Daring to cause trouble at a time like this—have you no regard for me, the Peak Master Elder?" A voice filled with majesty echoed across the field. Xie Yuan stood suspended in the air, a wave of pressure radiating from his body and enveloping the entire area. As a late-stage fifth-rank Qi Sea Realm expert, Xie Yuan suppressed hundreds of thousands of disciples with his aura alone; such power immediately cowed everyone present.

"Greetings, Peak Master Elder!" All the registered disciples bowed their heads respectfully in unison. Yang Ze, standing among the crowd, was no exception. He dared not underestimate Xie Yuan’s strength; this display alone proved that the title of the Qingyang Peak’s top expert was well-earned.

Looking coldly at the massive sea of disciples, Xie Yuan said without a hint of emotion, "It seems you have grown too lax over time; you have forgotten your status. You are registered disciples of the Piao Miao Martial Academy, not some street thugs from the outside world who know nothing of rules. What a disgrace!"

"Please, Peak Master Elder, forgive us!" Seeing Xie Yuan’s fury, fear took root in everyone’s hearts. To them, a fifth-rank martial artist was an unattainable existence, far beyond the reach of ordinary men. If Xie Yuan wanted to kill them, it would be no different from crushing an ant.

"Forgiveness? Is a mere plea for forgiveness enough? After today, everyone will be docked next month’s benefits as a disciplinary measure!"

At these words, some in the crowd began to wail. For those with low cultivation and meager means, the monthly benefits for registered disciples were indispensable. Losing a month’s worth of resources would have a significant impact. However, most remained silent, offering no protest. A one-month penalty was a light punishment, and continuing to cause trouble would only make things worse for themselves.

"Get up, all of you. If there is a next time, I will certainly ferret out the troublemakers and expel them from the academy!"

Xie Yuan waved his hand, withdrawing his pressure, and the crowd sighed in relief as they stood up straight again. At the same time, many others appeared beside Xie Yuan, all standing in mid-air. Though they appeared plain, their ability to stand alongside Xie Yuan identified them as the elders of Qingyang Peak. The Martial Arts Tournament was the most bustling event on the peak, and even these elders had to attend in person. To serve as an elder in the Wuyang Martial Academy, one had to be at least a fifth-rank Qi Sea Realm expert. If one performed well in the tournament and caught the eye of an elder, it would truly be a meteoric rise.

After the elders exchanged nods, they landed on a high platform to the side of the arena—the best vantage point, offering a clear view of the entire venue.

"The Martial Arts Tournament is a test for you registered disciples. You should already be aware of the rewards. For those who are not, you may check the stone stele at the entrance of the venue; it not only lists the prizes but also bears the names of the top one hundred disciples from the last tournament. Many of them have already entered the outer courtyard as outer-sect disciples. This year, you all have the chance to carve your own names there and become the top one hundred of this year!"

Xie Yuan’s words ignited the atmosphere of the entire venue. Pleased with this reaction, he flicked his sleeve, sending a beam of light shooting into the sky. It burst into countless light spots that rained down upon the crowd. Yang Ze reached out and caught one. As the light faded, a slip of paper appeared in his hand, with different numbers written on the front and back.

"The two numbers on this slip represent your arena number on the front and your personal contestant number on the back. There are six thousand arenas here; you will be divided into groups to occupy each one and begin your battles. Only the final ten remaining on each arena will qualify for the next round. You have one hundred breaths to reach your assigned arena. Anyone who fails to do so within the specified time will be disqualified."

As soon as Xie Yuan finished speaking, the disciples began to dash. With hundreds of thousands of people running, the entire venue roared with sound. Yang Ze wove through the crowd. Xie Yuan was ruthless; with so little time, if one didn't move quickly, they wouldn't even qualify to compete. Yang Ze had to admit the format was cruel. While the exact number of registered disciples was unknown, it was certainly over six hundred thousand. This meant there were at least one hundred disciples per arena. Fighting one's way out of such a crowd was no easy task for those with low cultivation.

Yang Ze moved quickly and soon found his arena. With a flicker of movement, he landed steadily on the platform, becoming the first to arrive. Within three breaths, another person appeared, followed by more and more. After one hundred breaths had passed, Yang Ze glanced around and counted one hundred and one people on his arena. The platform, which had seemed large, now felt cramped.

Yang Ze noticed that among the one hundred and one people, he was the only one with cultivation at the ninth-stage True Yuan Qi level; the others did not reach that level. Consequently, these people posed no threat to him. In truth, Yang Ze was not worried about the first round. With his strength, he stood among the best of all the registered disciples, and no matter how the rules changed, he had nothing to fear.

Once the time was up, the deacons and outer-sect disciples beside the arena announced the start of the competition. As the words fell, the atmosphere on the platform shifted instantly. Most people cast wary glances at those around them, as if on guard. Only Yang Ze remained relaxed, appearing indifferent to it all.

This tense standoff did not last long. An eighth-stage True Yuan Qi disciple, unable to contain his impatience, struck out at a third-stage disciple nearby. As soon as he moved, the entire arena descended into a chaotic brawl. Yet, this melee did not reach Yang Ze. He stood in place, and no one dared to provoke him; whenever the fighting neared him, people instinctively dodged away.

This could have continued, but suddenly, two seventh-stage disciples, locked in a fierce struggle, fought their way toward Yang Ze. Seeing him standing there, they showed no intention of changing direction, instead charging forward even faster.

Yang Ze shook his head and sighed. "I didn't want to fight, but since you insist on forcing my hand, you have only yourselves to blame."

As he spoke, Yang Ze shot forward like a bolt of lightning, delivering two quick kicks. Before anyone could see clearly, those two disciples were sent flying off the arena.

"Anyone else who is blind enough to try, feel free to come forward." Yang Ze’s voice was not loud, but it reached the ears of everyone on the stage. The others, who had been locked in fierce combat, were instantly stunned by his move. The power of a ninth-stage True Yuan Qi expert was far beyond their reach.

After the duration of an incense stick, only ten people remained on the arena. Among them, Yang Ze was the only one who remained as clean as he had been at the start, while the others were all more or less injured. Such was the disparity in strength. The current Yang Ze was no longer the newcomer he once was; ordinary registered disciples dared not provoke him. However, Yang Ze did not let his guard down. This was only the first round; the second might not be so simple.

He did not have to wait long before the rules for the second round were announced from the high platform.