Chapter 137 — One Hundred and Eight

CHAPTER 137

One Hundred and Eight

“One hundred and eight candidates,” Lu Yong declared.

Shi Feng walked through the eastern gate beneath three great banners. Beyond the passage, the arena opened into a broad circle of stone platforms surrounded by crowded stands.

Thirty-two kingdoms sent three representatives each, and twelve recognized lesser sects held independent places. Their crests hung along the inner wall, where attendants checked the final names against the reporting lists. Great Liang's banner occupied one space among many.

No larger than the others.

Shi Feng stopped at the assigned entrance and handed over his plate. A Foundation Establishment attendant named Zhou Ke checked the seal, then pointed toward the waiting area.

“Your draw will appear on the board,” Zhou Ke said. “Don't enter a platform before your name is called.”

Shi Feng nodded and took the plate back. He was nineteen, at mid Foundation Establishment, and carrying a plain sword beside a plain dark robe. Several nearby candidates glanced at him before looking toward opponents with stronger visible auras.

He didn't correct their choices.

Let them watch whoever they wanted.

The stands quieted when the Great Sects' representatives arrived. Wei Chengyuan of Martial Palace walked first. His late Golden Core pressure spread briefly across the front rows, and even several visiting royal officials stood to greet him.

Behind him came Mu Shuyun from Hundred Flower Valley, a mid Golden Core cultivator with a pale green sash. She looked over the candidates without slowing her steps.

Artificer Hall's He Zhen followed carrying a short wooden case. His early Golden Core cultivation drew less noise, but the guards at the entrance bowed just as carefully.

Three delegates. Each represented a sect whose senior experts stood far above any kingdom's strongest cultivator. For many candidates, being noticed by one of them would change an entire family's future.

Shi Feng looked toward He Zhen's wooden case. A small tool mark crossed its clasp. He remembered Xu Changhe's ordinary repair notes and the sword movements practised in a narrow ruin passage.

He didn't know this delegate. Holding a dead elder's teachings didn't make the whole sect his family. It gave him a reason to look at Artificer Hall more closely.

That was enough for now.

A thin young man standing nearby followed his gaze. The stranger wore the crest of Great Wu and a late Foundation Establishment aura.

“Choosing a sect before the draw is even up?” Lu Ting asked.

Shi Feng looked at him.

“Looking at the wooden case,” Shi Feng replied.

“Martial Palace is the only seat worth watching,” Lu Ting said.

“Then watch them,” Shi Feng replied.

Lu Ting frowned, unsure whether the answer was rude or sensible. He turned toward Wei Chengyuan instead.

The conversation ended there. Shi Feng didn't need to defend a sect he'd never entered.

The presiding official stepped onto the central platform. Lu Yong wore a dark robe and a simple jade badge. His late Golden Core aura made the remaining private conversations die away.

“Representatives of the kingdoms and independent sects,” Lu Yong said. “Your local qualification earned the right to stand here. It earned nothing beyond that.”

Several candidates straightened. Others held their weapons more tightly.

Sima Yu stood beneath Great Liang's banner with a controlled expression. His late Foundation Establishment cultivation remained impressive, but he wasn't the only candidate at that stage. Shi Feng saw him glance toward Martial Palace's seats.

Let him look. The Crown Prince's household wasn't standing on the fighting platform beside him.

Ling Qingzhu waited farther along the same row. Her qi was calm and restrained. Nearby candidates watched her, unable to judge her depth. She gave them no help. The repaired silver clasp shone against her black hair above the white veil.

She looked toward Shi Feng once.

He met her gaze, then turned toward the central platform.

Shi Feng checked the number on his plate again and stepped forward when the attendant called it. Ling Qingzhu's name remained farther down the register.

Lu Yong raised one hand toward the three sect banners.

“The top ten will earn recruitment by the Great Sects,” Lu Yong announced. “The champion will receive direct inner-disciple entry and may choose among the nearby Great Sects.”

The stands erupted.

“Direct inner disciple!”

“Choose any of the three!”

“Even a royal clan can't buy that place!”

“One hundred and eight people for ten places!”

Lu Yong waited until the noise fell.

“Your birth, beauty, and kingdom rank won't replace a victory,” Lu Yong said. “Neither will a complaint from your elders.”

Mu Shuyun smiled faintly in her seat. Wei Chengyuan looked bored by the warning, as though he'd heard every complaint before. He Zhen opened the wooden case and took out a writing brush.

Their interest would have to be earned.

Shi Feng liked that better than another official asking him to bow toward a prince.

Zhou Ke brought the first draw slips to the long board beside the waiting area. Two attendants placed the names in matching columns while Lu Yong explained the opening round.

One hundred and eight candidates. Fifty-four matches. Winners would advance, with the following rounds arranged under the announced rules.

Crossing the boundary meant defeat. A clear surrender ended the match. Deliberately attacking after surrender would bring the officials onto the platform.

The warning was delivered without a threat about anyone's family. The Golden Core cultivators seated above the arena were enough to make its meaning clear. Shi Feng checked the position of his sword.

He'd kept promises, earned medicine, and refined every bone before establishing his foundation. He practised until his own hands could use what the inherited notes taught him. His strength wasn't something this morning's crowd granted.

Their opinion couldn't take it away either.

He thought, Top ten first. Then the championship.

In Great Liang, third place gave him everything he needed. Here, first place offered the choice he'd travelled to earn. He wouldn't settle for less simply because some candidates looked impressive.

The first names appeared.

Duan Yichen of Great Zhao leaned forward to find his match. The sabre user from the reporting hall saw Shi Feng and nodded once before returning his attention to the board.

Lu Ting muttered something about an unlucky draw. Several other candidates began arguing about opponents they hadn't even met. Shi Feng waited until the attendant moved clear of his row.

Great Liang, Shi Feng.

Opposite his name stood White Crane Pavilion's chief disciple, Xie Wenyuan. Mid Foundation Establishment, according to the registration entry.

Near the sect waiting area, Han Zheng saw the pairing and spoke to a young man in white. Xie Wenyuan listened without looking hurried. He carried a slim sword and wore his hair neatly tied.

Farther down the line, an old man presented a dark sect token. Zhou Ke compared its worn seal with the official register before accepting it.

“Lone Spear Peak's independent place is confirmed,” Zhou Ke said.

The one-eyed youth beside the old man grinned. Gu Zhan rested his spear against his shoulder and started looking for whoever had drawn him.

Lu Yong raised his voice before the waiting candidates dispersed.

“Burst pills that imitate a higher realm are forbidden,” Lu Yong said. “If one is used, the referee halts the match and activates the platform barrier. Do not strike through an official halt. Protection is enforced while the offender is removed. The violation will be recorded publicly.”

At his gesture, pale light rose around the central platform. The barrier carried the combined support of the arena formations and the officials above it. Shi Feng watched its edges settle into the stone.

“A surrender ends the fight at once,” Lu Yong added. “For a violation, the warning precedes the halt seal. The four beams joining make that seal binding. Our timing crystals record whether a blow landed before or after it.”

This was a tournament under other people's rules. He needed to remember exactly where their protection began.

A bell rang above the arena.

The sound carried over the stands, across the stone platforms, and out beyond the city walls. People rose from their seats as the first candidates moved toward the marked passages.

Ling Qingzhu watched Shi Feng walk past Great Liang's banner. She wanted to call something to him and didn't. He knew where she stood. He didn't need to turn back to make her feel less afraid of the distance.

Sima Yu's eyes followed him too. There was no welcome in that gaze. Shi Feng didn't look toward either of them again.

Now there was a sword in his hand and an open platform ahead.

Lu Yong's voice rang across the arena.

“The Great Kingdom Tournament begins!” Lu Yong declared.

Shi Feng stepped toward his assigned platform.