Chapter 127: The Top One Hundred Registered Disciples (Seeking Subscriptions)

The second round concluded, and Yang Ze successfully advanced.

Under his stern challenge, not a single one of the remaining eight contestants dared to step forward to face him. Another disciple with nine-stage True Yuan energy had already been easily dealt with by Yang Ze on the ring; they knew they were no match for him, and fighting would only lead to a more miserable outcome. With such thoughts in mind, they were even more terrified to confront him.

In this round, Yang Ze could be said to have won without any pressure. Lacking any formidable opponents, he even managed to vent some frustration by taking down a vice-master of the Yishui Sect. Thinking of the Yishui Sect, Yang Ze felt a twinge of regret that he hadn't encountered more of their members to settle the score. However, he recalled Shui Ziming; given his strength, making it into the top one hundred registered disciples should be no problem, and there might be a chance to face him later. Thinking of Shui Ziming, Yang Ze clenched his right fist tightly. Defeating him would cement his place among the elite of the registered disciples.

Taking a deep breath, Yang Ze looked around. Most of the other rings were still embroiled in fierce battles; almost no one else had finished their match as quickly as he had. It was not until the time it takes for an incense stick to burn that all fighting on the rings ceased.

After two rounds of intense combat, the hundreds of thousands of registered disciples had been whittled down to six thousand. Among these six thousand, the lowest cultivation level was seven-stage True Yuan energy. Those who had managed to persist this far at the seven-stage level were individuals with hidden cards, otherwise, they would never have been able to defeat higher-level martial artists. Beyond them, some disciples exuded auras even stronger than the nine-stage True Yuan level—these were the "half-step first-grade" disciples who usually hid away to cultivate and only emerged for this tournament.

Yang Ze scanned the field, searching for Lin Hui. He had not seen him since borrowing contribution points that day. He didn't know how Lin Hui’s seclusion had gone, but he trusted that he had successfully broken through, likely becoming at least an eight-stage True Yuan expert. Given Lin Hui’s mysterious nature, Yang Ze had never seen him fight, but he felt confident that Lin Hui’s strength was considerable and he wouldn't be eliminated in these first two rounds. Regarding Lin Hui, Yang Ze felt a sense of caution; even if his own cultivation was higher, he dared not underestimate him.

Shaking his head, Yang Ze cast thoughts of Lin Hui aside as Xie Yuan’s voice rang out from the high platform, silencing the entire venue. Only six thousand registered disciples remained on the rings; those who had been defeated and were severely injured had already left to seek treatment. Others with minor injuries had moved to the surrounding spectator stands, eager to watch the rest of the tournament, which only occurred once a year.

As the silence descended, Xie Yuan’s voice reached everyone’s ears: "You six thousand remaining disciples, regardless of the methods you used to reach this point, your presence here proves you are among the strongest of the Qingyang Peak registered disciples. However, there are still too many of you, and there are only one hundred spots for the top-ranked disciples. Therefore, in the next round, only one hundred of you shall remain."

As Xie Yuan’s words spread, the entire venue erupted into a clamor of discussion. Yang Ze, standing on the ring, felt his heart sink. A unique aspect of this tournament was that the rules changed every year with no set standard, so no one knew what to expect. That it would be decided so quickly was something no one had anticipated.

"The top one hundred disciples will be determined from among you six thousand, and there is only one rule: whoever can withstand my martial pressure shall become one of the top one hundred!"

Xie Yuan’s voice cut through the uproar, but his announcement triggered an even greater commotion. This method was truly shocking. Xie Yuan was a powerful expert at the late stage of the fifth-grade Qi Sea realm. If he were to release his full martial pressure, it was doubtful anyone present, save for the elders, could withstand it. For these registered disciples, they would likely be crushed into dust.

"Rest assured, I will not release my full martial pressure; I will ensure you can endure it. Once only one hundred remain, I will naturally withdraw it. You will have one hundred breaths to recover your state to its peak, and after one hundred breaths, the third round begins!"

After his explanation, Xie Yuan fell silent. The six thousand disciples on the rings sat cross-legged, doing their utmost to recover their cultivation. Yang Ze was no exception. Even though he hadn't been injured in the two rounds, he still circulated his "Qi Nourishing Technique," guiding his True Yuan through a full cycle. Having fought twice, his condition had been slightly affected, and he dared not be careless.

Once the cycle was complete, a wave of pressure suddenly exploded from the high platform, enveloping all six thousand rings. Yang Ze sat cross-legged, his True Yuan circulating at high speed, his aura reaching an unprecedented peak. When the pressure descended upon him, his aura was immediately suppressed. Under this immense weight, Yang Ze nearly struggled to breathe. He pushed his Qi Nourishing Technique to its limit, barely managing to hold his ground.

Half of the six thousand disciples were instantly knocked unconscious and eliminated by the force. Xie Yuan was indeed not using his full power, but for these disciples who hadn't even stepped into the first grade, the pressure of a fifth-grade martial artist was impossible to resist.

Yang Ze struggled bitterly. Within three breaths, his forehead was drenched in sweat, his face pale, looking as if he were suffering immense agony. But he gritted his teeth, refusing to give up. He had come this far; he could not fail now. If he could hold on, he would be among the top one hundred. This was his minimum baseline—he could not be eliminated in this round, not just for himself, but to avoid shaming Ning Teng.

Without a word, Yang Ze took a deep breath, stabilizing his aura. His body, which had been hunched under the weight, straightened slightly. Though it was only a small movement, it had cost him every ounce of his strength. He didn't look at the others; he had no energy to spare. He could only persist.

His True Yuan was circulating and depleting rapidly. At this rate of consumption, even with nine-stage True Yuan cultivation, he wouldn't last more than a few breaths. In this critical moment, Yang Ze was grateful for the Black Stone; had it not provided him with a perfect technique, making his True Yuan far superior to others, he would have collapsed during the first wave of pressure.

On the high platform, Xie Yuan watched with an expressionless face. He scanned the disciples, only pausing briefly on each, except for Yang Ze, on whom his gaze lingered for a moment longer. With Xie Yuan’s discernment, he saw the fluctuations in Yang Ze and felt a flicker of interest, though he said nothing and moved his gaze away.

However, his lingering gaze was noticed by the other elders, and one immediately asked him about it. Xie Yuan replied calmly, "This child has only been in the sect for three months and already possesses such cultivation. He is a talent worth molding."

Upon hearing this, all the elders looked toward Yang Ze. Cultivating to the nine-stage True Yuan level in three months was a feat not seen on Qingyang Peak for many years. As they watched, Xie Yuan’s aura fluctuated slightly, and the pressure covering the venue intensified. His peripheral vision drifted toward Yang Ze, where invisible ripples disturbed the air on his ring.

Zhang Chengxuan was the first to notice this. He gave Xie Yuan a deep look and flicked his finger gently, sending a streak of invisible True Yuan darting out.

Yang Ze, sitting cross-legged, felt his True Yuan nearing exhaustion. As the pressure suddenly spiked, the blood in his body surged, and he nearly vomited blood. He assumed Xie Yuan had increased the pressure because so many remained. Suddenly, he felt a massive force—far beyond what he could withstand—press down on him. His internal flow was interrupted, and he was on the verge of collapsing.

A warmth radiated from his chest, steadying his body just enough to prevent an immediate fall. But the force did not dissipate, and the warmth in his chest began to fade. At this critical juncture, Yang Ze heard a sound like something shattering. The force weighing upon him vanished, and the warmth surged, allowing him to hold his ground.

In the next breath, the pressure covering the six thousand rings was withdrawn. Yang Ze breathed a sigh of relief, though his blood continued to churn, and he slumped onto the ring.