Chen Ping, overhearing the mention of Divine Sword Manor, recalled his entry into the city when Ling Xue clashed with Qin Feng from the Manor in a battle of sword intent, risking their lives. Had he not intervened, one of them would likely have died.
“Master,” Chen Ping stepped forward, his gaze resolute. “This disciple wishes to represent the Sword Sect in the tournament.”
“You?” Mo Chen looked at him. “Though you’ve broken through to the Eighth Grade of the Loose Immortal Realm, the core disciples of Divine Sword Manor are at least Fourth Grade Earth Immortals. If you compete…”
“I know the risks, Master, but that’s exactly why we should go,” Chen Ping said earnestly. “If we keep retreating, others will see the Sword Sect as weak and easy to bully. Besides, I want to use this tournament to hone my swordsmanship.”
Ling Xue chimed in, “Yes, Master! Senior Brother Chen’s progress is astonishing. He might create a miracle! We’re willing to go too, even if we can’t compete, we can cheer for him!”
The other disciples nodded eagerly, their eyes full of anticipation.
Mo Chen looked at their fervent expressions and Chen Ping’s confident demeanour, finally relenting. “Fine, if you’re so determined, go ahead. But remember, safety comes first.”
He turned to Chen Ping, his expression grave. “I’ll register you, but listen carefully. The tournament has three iron rules: first, only swordsmanship is allowed, no spells, treasures, or external forces; second, you must bring your own weapon, and it must be a sword; third, once on the stage, life and death are up to fate, and no one may interfere.”
“Especially against Divine Sword Manor,” Mo Chen’s tone grew heavier. “Their ‘Heaven-Splitting Sword Technique’ is brutally powerful, every move lethal. If you find yourself outmatched, concede immediately. Do not be reckless! Preserving your life is paramount.”
Chen Ping nodded. “I understand, Master.”
Seeing Chen Ping’s calm resolve, Mo Chen felt slightly reassured, yet a trace of worry lingered. He knew this tournament was far from as simple as it appeared. Divine Sword Manor was likely waiting for an opportunity to strike a fatal blow against the Sword Sect.
Days later, the Swordsmanship Tournament began.
Sword Saint City’s martial arena was packed with spectators. At the centre of the cobblestone plaza, a white jade stage, a hundred zhang in diameter, floated in mid-air, its edges inscribed with intricate sword patterns. Under the sunlight, it gleamed with a faint golden light. This was the “Spirit-Locking Array,” painstakingly crafted by past city lords to prevent stray energy from harming spectators and to suppress all spells and spiritual energy, ensuring competitors relied solely on swordsmanship.
Around the plaza, dozens of viewing platforms rose along the hillsides, adorned with the fluttering banners of various sects. On the highest VIP platform, the Sword Saint City overseer sat in the centre, clad in a purple robe. To his left were several white-haired elders, revered swordsmanship masters of the city. To his right sat the sect leaders or elders, with Divine Sword Manor’s master, Qin Lie, drawing the most attention. Dressed in a crimson python robe, a jet-black longsword hung at his waist, his gaze as sharp as an eagle’s. He chatted jovially with the elders beside him, exuding arrogance.
“Have you heard? Divine Sword Manor sent three core disciples this time. The leader, Zhao Jingfeng, has mastered the seventh level of the ‘Heaven-Splitting Sword Technique.’ With his Sixth Grade Earth Immortal cultivation, he’s nearly unmatched among the younger generation!”
“That’s not all! Seven Star Sword Sect’s Li Hanjiang wields the ‘Seven Star Linked Sword’ with divine skill. They say he once cleaved a thousand-year-old pine with a single stroke!”
“I bet Zhao Jingfeng takes the championship! Just look at his aura; no one dares meet his eyes!”
The crowd’s discussions surged like a tide, with thousands of cultivators’ gazes fixed on the eastern entrance of the stage, where competitors from each sect prepared to enter.
