Chapter 312: You Can Bet Whether I Dare to Shoot This Arrow

The Canglan Joining Wuyuan, ranked first in the points competition.

The Tianque Joining Wuyuan, with the strongest overall strength.

None of the martial academies on the square had expected the first match to be the highly anticipated showdown.

Bian Bian Xinjie saw the slip in Lin Chen's hand bearing the words "Tianque," and a smirk curled his lips—seemingly even heaven itself denied Lin Chen further chances to shine.

"To draw Tianque Joining Wuyuan in the first round?"

Below the stage, the three academies of Lord Lingxiao Joining Wuyuan wore expressions of concern.

After a moment of stunned silence, Li Yuan suddenly laughed: "Lin Shi-di has good luck—fighting early means finishing early."

The Canglan Joining Wuyuan disciples weren't troubled by Lin Chen drawing Tianque Joining Wuyuan; this battle was inevitable anyway—now it was just happening sooner.

At the front, Hou Hou Zhan Tian's aged eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced sidelong at Elder Murong Song.

"Brother Hou, the box used for the draw cannot be sensed even by martial will."

Elder Murong Song understood the meaning behind Hou Hou Zhan Tian's gaze and explained.

It was pure luck—the imperial family had not manipulated the draw.

Lin Chen cooperates with the imperial family; they would never secretly orchestrate Canglan Joining Wuyuan and Tianque Joining Wuyuan to meet so early. If they were to manipulate anything, it would be to make Lin Chen draw a weaker academy.

On the viewing stands, after a burst of noise, everyone's faces glowed with excitement.

Such intensity from the opening—today was definitely worth coming for.

Remember, elimination rounds begin now, and the top fifteen teams are all strong; it's uncertain whether all fifteen will even finish today. Logically, tomorrow's matches should be the most intense and thrilling.

But who could have expected Canglan Joining Wuyuan to draw Tianque Joining Wuyuan in the first round?

One was universally acknowledged as the strongest among the nine nations' academies before the tournament began; the other had shone like a dark horse since the points competition yesterday.

"Joining Wuyuan's rankings had already moved Lin Chen to seventh on the Heavenly List this morning—if you count Bian Bian Xinjie and Ling Ling Tianhao, this round will feature three Heavenly List warriors clashing."

"Besides these three, Canglan Joining Wuyuan's Li Yuan isn't weak either, nor are the other Tianque Joining Wuyuan disciples—this match will be a true dragon-versus-tiger battle."

…

…

After drawing his slip, Lin Chen's expression remained unchanged as he returned to his original spot, while other academies began stepping forward to draw their opponents.

In the time it took to drink a cup of tea, seven academies had drawn their opponents, but the Great Liang Lord Lingxiao Joining Wuyuan received a bye this round.

This meant the Great Liang Lord Lingxiao Joining Wuyuan was guaranteed at least a top-eight finish.

It was good news.

With the draw over, the disciples of other academies stepped back, and every eye in the arena turned to Canglan Joining Wuyuan and Tianque Joining Wuyuan.

"Which format will your two academies choose for the match?"

Elder Murong Song asked—team battle or individual combat—this was up to the two academies to decide.

"Individual combat favors Canglan Joining Wuyuan poorly. Even setting aside Lin Chen's true strength, the rest of his disciples are likely no match for Tianque Joining Wuyuan."

"The only variable lies with Lin Chen."

Everyone present understood the strength disparity between Canglan Joining Wuyuan and Tianque Joining Wuyuan; though Canglan Joining Wuyuan had shone brilliantly yesterday, it was largely due to Lin Chen alone.

Lin Chen had single-handedly lifted Canglan Joining Wuyuan to parity with Tianque Joining Wuyuan.

Without Lin Chen, Canglan Joining Wuyuan would rank around tenth—still far behind Tianque Joining Wuyuan.

"Li Lin Shixiong, which format should we choose?"

Lin Chen turned to Li Yuan; as Canglan Joining Wuyuan's senior disciple, Li Yuan held the authority to decide—he would not overstep.

"Lin Shi-di, you decide."

Li Yuan shook his head with a smile. Though he was the senior disciple, Lin Shi-di's performance and strength made him far more suited to lead the academy's decisions—he wouldn't be jealous.

By letting Lin Shi-di draw the slip on behalf of the academy, he had already relinquished his authority as senior disciple.

The other Canglan Joining Wuyuan senior disciples now also fixed their gazes on Lin Chen—clearly, they shared Li Yuan's view.

"Canglan Joining Wuyuan chooses individual combat."

Lin Chen spoke slowly, and on the other side, Bian Bian Xinjie and Ling Ling Tianhao both smiled upon hearing his words.

"This Lin Chen truly has confidence—he believes he can defeat one of us alone."

In their eyes, Lin Chen avoided team combat because he feared their combined strength—leaving him no chance at all. But this Lin Chen overestimated himself; they didn't need to team up to handle him.

"Lin Lin Shixiong, let me take on this Lin Chen."

Ling Ling Tianhao looked at Bian Bian Xinjie, who nodded: "Agreed."

Tianque Joining Wuyuan also accepted individual combat; now a judge began walking toward the arena.

"Each side selects a combatant. In individual combat, once one side concedes, the other may not strike again."

The judge's voice carried across the arena, and the implied meaning was clear: if one side refused to concede, killing their opponent was within the rules.

From Tianque Joining Wuyuan's side, a disciple stepped onto the arena, scanning Canglan Joining Wuyuan's ranks: "Who among you will fight?"

"Li Lin Shixiong, Lin Shi-di, let me go."

A Canglan Joining Wuyuan disciple volunteered; Lin Chen hesitated, pondering something, but seeing the disciple's determined gaze, he finally nodded: "Alright, thank you, Lin Lin Shixiong—just don't overextend yourself."

Fighting for the academy's ranking was an honor for every senior disciple; even though he had a bold plan, he couldn't stop them from giving their all for the academy.

"Canglan Joining Wuyuan, Zhao Zhao Zhiping, I seek your guidance!"

After stepping onto the arena, Zhao Zhao Zhiping followed protocol—but the Tianque Joining Wuyuan disciple merely sneered, refusing to announce his name, and turned to the judge: "Elder, may we begin?"

Arena combat required no mutual identification; the middle-aged judge nodded: "Begin."

Upon hearing "begin," the Tianque Joining Wuyuan disciple grinned savagely, unfurling his nine-section whip. The tip struck the ground, sparks flying, accompanied by a roar like a tiger's.

"Die!"

The whip lashed out; Zhao Zhao Zhiping dared not underestimate it, twirling his sword into a flurry—but the moment the blade met the whip, his face changed, his palm numb with shock.

Shhh!

The opponent's second whip cracked through the air; Zhao Zhao Zhiping leapt back to dodge—but the whip suddenly coiled like a serpent's head, striking straight for his throat.

"Watch out!"

Below, Canglan Joining Wuyuan disciples cried out in alarm; Zhao Zhao Zhiping threw himself backward—the whip grazed his neck, leaving a trail of blood droplets.

Hss!

Everyone saw the bloody cut on Zhao Zhao Zhiping's neck, eyes wide with shock—this Tianque Joining Wuyuan disciple's whip was terrifyingly strong.

Just two strikes, and the opponent was already wounded.

Zhao Zhao Zhiping was no weakling; though not yet eighth rank, he was among the top ninth-rank martialists—and he hadn't even endured two blows.

The Tianque Joining Wuyuan disciple's eyes glinted with malice as he swung the whip again, forming a crimson whirlwind that engulfed Zhao Zhao Zhiping, shattering the arena's blue stone floor into flying debris.

Crack!

After dozens of breaths, Zhao Zhao Zhiping staggered out of the whip's shadow, drenched in blood, his right arm hanging limp—clearly badly injured.

"Zhao Shi-di, concede!"

Li Yuan cried out urgently; Zhao Zhao Zhiping's face flushed with shame, but he now understood the gap between them—persisting could cost him his life.

He wasn't afraid of death or serious injury—if he could wound the opponent too, but he couldn't close the distance; the whip's power left him utterly defenseless.

"I concede."

Finally, Zhao Zhao Zhiping chose to surrender.

"How dull."

Hearing the surrender, the Tianque Joining Wuyuan disciple sneered, retracted his whip, and stepped down from the arena.

"Li Lin Shixiong, Lin Shi-di, I—"

"Zhao Shi-di, rest and heal—don't dwell on it."

Canglan Joining Wuyuan disciples helped Zhao Zhao Zhiping down; Li Yuan pulled a pill from his sleeve and slipped it into Zhao Zhao Zhiping's mouth.

"Come then—who will you send next?"

Another Tianque Joining Wuyuan disciple stepped onto the arena, eyes taunting; this time, no Canglan Joining Wuyuan disciple volunteered—without guaranteed victory, stepping up meant only humiliation.

They weren't afraid of being humiliated—they feared bringing shame upon their academy.

"Li Lin Shixiong, you go."

Lin Chen narrowed his eyes and spoke to Li Yuan.

Against the Tianque Joining Wuyuan disciple, only Li Lin Shixiong had absolute confidence of victory.

"Me?"

Li Yuan froze—sending him up now meant how would they handle the later rounds?

Ten disciples, ten rounds—to win, they needed at least six victories.

But Li Yuan ultimately agreed; from the moment he entrusted decision-making to Lin Shi-di, he would follow Lin Shi-di's orders.

"Li Yuan's going up?"

"Canglan Joining Wuyuan is sending Li Yuan so early—do they plan to give up the later rounds?" Seeing Li Yuan step forward, disciples from Lord Lingxiao Joining Wuyuan, Qingyun Joining Wuyuan, and Jingdu Joining Wuyuan frowned in confusion; only Meng Xing murmured: "Actually, this makes sense. Li Lin Shixiong still lags slightly behind Bian Bian Xinjie—if held back, he might not win later. Better to secure a certain win now."

Six wins out of ten!

That was the rule for individual combat.

This world had no Tian Ji's horse racing—otherwise Meng Xing would have mentioned it.

On the arena, Li Yuan fought with all his might, forcing the Tianque Joining Wuyuan disciple into steady retreat until the man finally conceded.

Even among eighth-rank martialists, there were differences.

The Tianque Joining Wuyuan disciple's face darkened—he hadn't expected Canglan Joining Wuyuan to send Li Yuan so early, in the second round.

"Thinking you can win by rotating fighters? How presumptuous."

Bian Bian Xinjie and Ling Ling Tianhao exchanged glances; like Meng Xing, they believed Lin Chen was using a rotation strategy—deploying his strongest fighters against their weaker ones.

"Besides Li Yuan and Hu An, all other disciples of Canglan Joining Wuyuan are no match—they can only win two matches at most, and worse, the next round has Canglan Joining Wuyuan sending someone up first."

Ling Ling Tianhao's eyes held mockery; after Li Yuan stepped down, Lin Chen's gaze turned to another senior brother: "Chen Brother, you're up this round. Don't fight to the death—if you feel your strength waning, surrender."

"Understood."

Chen Dong nodded. He didn't know why Lin Shi-di had chosen him for this round, but like Li Shi-di, all the senior brothers now had absolute trust in Lin Shi-di.

Even if Lin Shi-di ordered him onto the stage as cannon fodder, he wouldn't hesitate.

Seeing Chen Dong step onto the stage, Tianque Joining Wuyuan sent out one of their own, eyes glinting with cold fury.

Neither side spoke. Once the referee confirmed the start, both moved at once.

"Chen Shi-di isn't a match for his opponent."

After a brief exchange, Li Yuan murmured softly; Lin Chen nodded. He had sent Chen Dong up not to win this round, but to set up the next one.

After a dozen breaths, Chen Dong's robe was soaked in blood.

The Tianque disciple's twin hooks crossed, flashing icy light; the blades tore through air with a hiss like a venomous snake's tongue. Chen Dong staggered back, a deep wound gaped open on his right shoulder, bone visible—his right hand, gripping the sword, trembled uncontrollably.

He was ninth-rank; his opponent was eighth-rank.

"Chen Shi-di, surrender."

Li Yuan spoke—the words for surrender should not come from Lin Shi-di, but from him, the eldest senior brother, Chen Shi-di would listen.

Chen Dong's face twisted with resentment, but he knew Li Shi-di wanted to save him. In the fight, he'd been utterly dominated, especially by those twin hooks—their angles were unnaturally deceptive, impossible to defend against.

"I—"

As Chen Dong opened his mouth, his opponent roared suddenly, twin hooks swirling into dozens of shadowy hooks that instantly engulfed Chen Dong.

Bian Bian Xinjie and Ling Ling Tianhao smiled cruelly.

"No!"

Li Yuan's face paled instantly—his opponent meant to kill, denying Chen Dong any chance to surrender.

"Stop!"

Li Yuan's eyes bulged with rage—yet the Tianque disciple's lips curled in cruelty; his twin hooks suddenly crossed like a venomous dragon's tail lashing. Chen Dong's sword clattered to the ground; twin arcs of blood spurted from his wrist tendons, and his body collapsed like a puppet with severed strings.

A clear cut marked his throat; a guttural "huh-huh" escaped his lips—his vocal cords had been shattered by the hook's qi, rendering him speechless.

Blood traced jagged paths across the stone platform, glinting with an eerie purple sheen under the sun. The Tianque disciple sneered: "If you can't speak to surrender, write it in blood on the ground."

Write it in blood!

Other Joining Wuyuan disciples frowned—writing "surrender" in one's own blood on the ground was a profound humiliation.

If it were them, they'd rather die than do it.

"Filth!"

Li Yuan's neck veins swelled like coiled dragons; he moved to charge the stage—but the Tianque disciple sneered: "No outsiders interfere in arena combat. The referee is watching."

"Li Shi-xiong, calm down." Lin Chen blocked him.

"But Chen Shi-di—"

"I know."

Lin Chen's gaze locked onto the Tianque disciple, who wore smug triumph—even if Lin Chen was stronger, with the referee present, he couldn't interfere. And now he'd make Chen Dong suffer.

*Shhh! *

But as the Tianque disciple stepped toward Chen Dong, Lin Chen suddenly drew a longbow.

The moment the Dragon Shadow Bow was drawn, the Tianque disciple's face turned ashen: "Lin Chen, what are you doing? Trying to break the rules?"

Not just the Tianque disciple—everyone on the scene gasped as Lin Chen raised his bow.

What was Lin Chen going to do?

One moment he told Li Yuan to calm down, the next he pulls out a bow?

"Insolent!"

Lu Lu Qiguang's face darkened—but he made no move to stop him. If Lin Chen broke the rules, it only benefited Han Guo.

"Referee!"

The Tianque disciple turned to the arena judge, who glanced at Elder Murong Song, then said to Lin Chen: "No outsiders may interfere in arena combat."

Lin Chen drew the bowstring taut; it trembled, emitting a chilling dragon's roar.

Bian Bian Xinjie's cold laugh came from across: "Lin Shi-di, follow the rules. One step out of line and Canglan Joining Wuyuan forfeits the entire match."

"The arena rules?"

Lin Chen ignored Bian Bian Xinjie's threat, his cold gaze fixed on the Tianque disciple.

"If I break the rules, Canglan Joining Wuyuan loses ranking. But you lose your life. Or—do you, for the sake of Tianque Joining Wuyuan, wish to sacrifice yourself? Then take one more step forward."

The bowstring fully drawn, Lin Chen said nothing more—his lethal intent laid bare.

The Tianque disciple's face turned deathly pale—he didn't want to die.

As a martial genius, he had a bright future ahead—how could he die here?

Yet Lin Chen's bow filled him with overwhelming dread. And as Lin Chen said: if Lin Chen broke the rules, Canglan Joining Wuyuan lost ranking, and Tianque Joining Wuyuan lost a dangerous rival.

But what did that matter to him? He'd be dead by then.

The atmosphere turned heavy.

"Elder."

The Tianque disciple pleaded with the referee—but the judge only shook his head: "He hasn't moved. He hasn't stepped onto the stage. No rule broken."

As long as Lin Chen didn't act, no rule was broken—the referee wouldn't intervene.

The Tianque disciple was gambling: that Lin Chen's arrow wouldn't kill him, or that the referee would stop it mid-flight.

As for Lin Chen killing him and having to pay with his life—

He wasn't stupid!

Lin Chen was too vital to Liang Guo. Even if Liang Guo declared war on Han Guo right here, they'd never let Lin Chen die for him.

Lin Chen would absolutely do it.

As for Lu my lord—

The Tianque disciple glanced at Lu Lu Qiguang and instantly understood: Lu my lord probably hoped Lin Chen would break the rules.

He didn't want to die!

"Hmph. If I let Canglan Joining Wuyuan forfeit so easily, that'd be handing them a gift. I won't give you that chance."

The Tianque disciple made his excuse, then turned to the judge: "Elder, I declare victory in this match."

The judge glanced at the fallen Chen Dong, then at Lin Chen's icy gaze, and nodded: "Tianque Joining Wuyuan wins this round."

The moment the judge announced it, the Tianque disciple bolted off the stage, afraid to move slowly—lest Lin Chen's arrow fly.

Li Yuan leapt onto the stage at once, lifted Chen Dong down, and forced an elixir between his lips.

"Chen Shi-di's injuries are severe. Even with the elixir, he'll need half a year to recover."

Lin Chen nodded. Half a year was a lifetime for a martial cultivator—especially a genius like them. To stagnate half a year meant falling behind peers.

"Has Lin Chen already earned such a fearsome reputation? He scared off an eighth-rank martialist with just a look."

"A cowardly fool. Lin Chen really think he can shoot you dead?"

At Zheng Guo Joining Wuyuan's side, Benshan gnashed his teeth—how could an eighth-rank martialist be driven back by Lin Chen's words?

"Third round: Tianque Joining Wuyuan sends someone up first."

The referee continued the match. Seeing who Tianque Joining Wuyuan sent out, Hu An spoke: "Lin Shi-di, let me fight this round."

"Hu Shi-xiong, let me handle this one."

Lin Chen shook his head—but his words stunned everyone nearby, including disciples from Lord Lingxiao Joining Wuyuan and the other two sects.

Lin Shi-di is going up so soon?

(End of Chapter)