Chapter 107 — Three Moves Are Enough

CHAPTER 107

Three Moves Are Enough

Han Zong accepted the direct challenge to third place. Wen Shou checked both tokens beneath the ranking board, then called the candidates onto the platform. Shi Feng drew his plain refined artifact sword. Across from him, Han Zong lowered his spear into a steady two-handed guard. Mid Foundation Establishment qi gathered along its shaft.

“Catching Gao Zhen's blade doesn't put you in the top three,” Han Zong said coldly, resting his thumb against the spear's iron collar. “Step down to tenth now, or leave the platform with a broken wrist.”

“The board says third is open to challenge,” Shi Feng replied calmly. “Point your spear whenever you're ready.”

From the front benches, two of Han Zong's clan cousins laughed aloud, calling out that three spear thrusts would send the peddler back to his ointment stall.

Wen Shou gave the signal.

The spear struck before the last echo of the announcement faded.

Han Zong drove forward with both hands on the shaft. His mid Foundation Establishment qi gathered behind the steel point. There was no wild shouting, only a straight thrust aimed at taking the centre.

Shi Feng moved half a step.

His sword touched the side of the spearhead and turned it past his robe. He didn't meet the whole force head-on. The simple movement left Han Zong's first strike pointing at empty stone.

Han Zong's expression tightened. He pulled the shaft across his body and swept at Shi Feng's waist. A worried shout rose from the front benches.

Shi Feng lowered his sword and stopped the sweep.

A sharp ring echoed across the arena. The spear trembled. Shi Feng's wrist remained steady.

Han Zong felt the force travel into both arms. His confidence shook immediately. He'd expected the lighter sword to give way, but the clash nearly broke his own grip.

Early Foundation Establishment? What kind of early Foundation Establishment was this?

Shi Feng pushed the spear away and stepped forward. Han Zong retreated without thinking. The movement saved his sleeve from being cut, but it gave Shi Feng the centre he'd meant to control.

Three exchanges. The crowd could see who was advancing.

“This isn't like Gao Zhen's fight!”

“Han Zong's being pushed back!”

“He hasn't used his real spear art yet!”

“Then he'd better hurry!”

Han Zong heard that last shout and felt anger rise beneath his shock. He didn't need a fool in the stands to tell him how to fight.

His qi surged through the shaft. A pale yellow light wrapped the spearhead.

“Stone-Splitting Spear!” Han Zong shouted.

He stamped down and thrust with enough force to crack the stone beneath his rear foot. The attack was stronger than the first two. Even Wen Shou moved closer to the platform's edge.

Shi Feng watched the spear come.

He thought, Too much force in one direction. He can't change it now.

His sword slid along the shaft instead of striking the point. The Iron River Sword Art's Turning Wave converted the short movement into a cut across Han Zong's grip.

Han Zong let go with one hand before his fingers met the edge. His spear dipped. Shi Feng withdrew half an inch, then returned the sword point beneath the opponent's chin.

Returning Tide.

The cold tip stopped against skin without drawing blood.

Han Zong froze.

His spear remained in one hand. He could still lift it, but lifting it wouldn't stop the sword already at his throat.

Shi Feng's breath was even. His early Foundation Establishment aura hadn't grown brighter. He hadn't been forced to reveal the strength of his foundation or his completed golden bones.

Only a little qi and three familiar sword movements were needed.

“Do we continue?” Shi Feng asked.

Han Zong looked at the blade. Anger, shame, and disbelief passed across his face. Then he slowly lowered the spear.

“I surrender,” Han Zong said.

Shi Feng stepped back at once.

Wen Shou stood beside them and raised his hand toward the ranking board.

“Shi Feng wins the challenge,” Wen Shou declared. “The third position changes hands.”

The audience erupted.

Gao Zhen slapped his own knee in relief. His servant jumped and nearly dropped the cloth.

“I told you!” Gao Zhen said loudly.

The servant stared at him. Gao Zhen hadn't told him anything useful since being thrown out of the arena.

“You saw it,” Gao Zhen insisted. “Han Zong couldn't stop him either!”

At least people now had another match to discuss.

Han Zong checked his spear before leaving the platform. A thin mark ran along the shaft where Shi Feng's sword passed. He traced it with one finger, then looked at the plain weapon in the winner's hand.

“That sword art,” Han Zong said. “Where did you learn it?”

“From someone who used it well,” Shi Feng replied.

Han Zong understood that he wouldn't get a name. He nodded stiffly and put the spear away.

“I lost,” Han Zong said. “But don't expect everyone at the Great Kingdom Tournament to leave an opening like mine.”

“I won't,” Shi Feng said.

There was no sneer in his answer. Han Zong felt a little less humiliated by that. Losing to a stronger opponent was bad enough without being lectured afterward.

He left the platform under his own strength. Wen Shou watched him go before turning to Shi Feng.

“You can challenge the second position after the required interval,” Wen Shou said.

“No need,” Shi Feng replied.

Wen Shou paused.

“You're certain?” Wen Shou asked.

“The first three qualify,” Shi Feng said. “I'm third.”

The official looked toward Ling Qingzhu, then toward Sima Yu's pavilion. Several nearby spectators followed his gaze and immediately formed their own explanations.

“He won't challenge his wife!”

“Of course not. Would you?”

“The Crown Prince is still first.”

“Third is enough. He's already qualified!”

Shi Feng returned his sword to its scabbard. Let them guess. He wasn't interested in arranging an extra fight just to correct strangers.

Ling Qingzhu approached him as he stepped down.

“You stopped,” Ling Qingzhu said.

“I got what I wanted,” Shi Feng replied.

Her gaze rested on his sword. He'd used it exactly as he promised, then beaten someone at a higher stage without looking strained.

She felt proud of him. The feeling came so quickly that she didn't have time to hide it.

“That last move was good,” Ling Qingzhu said.

“It worked,” Shi Feng replied.

“You don't have to sound so casual!” Ling Qingzhu said.

“You'd rather I shout?” Shi Feng asked.

Her eyes curved above her veil despite herself. Across the arena, Sima Yu stood at the pavilion rail. His expression remained pleasant, but Shi Feng didn't mistake it for goodwill.

He looked back without bowing.

The prince's gaze dropped briefly to the sword, his fingers tight on the carved rail. Guo Zhen had been found dead, Cao Wenshu had died on Hengyun Mountain, and Zheng Jian and Peng Zhao had died in the west-canal timber yard, and now the public cripple stood calmly in the third position.

Keep looking, Shi Feng thought. At Qingyun City, your rank won't stand between us.

He turned away first.

Wen Shou called for the next challenge. Several candidates glanced toward the third position, but none stepped forward. Han Zong was wiping sweat from his face beneath the far awning.

Nobody wanted to discover that they could lose even faster.

A familiar ointment buyer waited at the edge of the passage. Kou Tao bowed awkwardly when Shi Feng noticed him. His Bone Refinement cultivation wasn't enough to qualify, but he'd come to watch the stronger candidates.

“Young Master Shi, your medicine,” Kou Tao began.

“Did it fail?” Shi Feng asked.

“No! It worked very well,” Kou Tao replied. “I only wondered whether you'd still sell it.”

Shi Feng looked at the man's worried expression. A qualification token apparently made people think he'd forgotten how to open a medicine jar.

“The stall's still there,” Shi Feng said.

“The price?” Kou Tao asked carefully.

“Also still there,” Shi Feng replied.

Kou Tao smiled in relief and hurried back to his companions. He immediately began telling them that he bought medicine from the third-ranked candidate before anyone else believed it worked.

Shi Feng didn't interrupt that version of events. Kou Tao paid promptly. A little harmless boasting wouldn't empty his purse.

Shi Feng took a seat beside the waiting area and accepted a cup of water from an attendant. Ling Qingzhu stood beside him, her eyes still warm above her veil. For the first time since arriving, he relaxed his grip on the scabbard.

“Hungry?” Shi Feng asked.

“We're at a qualification competition!” Ling Qingzhu replied.

“That doesn't feed us,” Shi Feng said.

She looked at him for a moment, then glanced toward the food sellers outside the gate.

“A little,” Ling Qingzhu admitted.