Chapter 128

I am Liu Ming, elder of the Enforcement Hall of the Thousand Bamboo Sect. The living rights to this spiritual vein originally belonged to our sect, so I shall personally judge this competition.

This competition is simple: each family sends a representative to draw a numbered bamboo slip; adjacent numbers face off, starting with one and two, continuing in this manner until only two remain. Once a family’s representative loses, they have no second chance.

If any family objects to these rules, speak now—otherwise, I assume all agree.

On all stone platforms, the family heads and their clans remained utterly silent.

“Excellent. Begin drawing slips now.” Liu Ming nodded in satisfaction, then flicked his sleeve; a pale yellow bamboo tube flew out, packed tightly with bamboo slips, flying one by one toward each stone platform.

At each platform, someone leapt into the air, randomly plucking a slip from the tube, then returned to their clan, sparking murmurs among them.

In an instant, the tube reached the platform where Wang Yu and the others stood. Yin Linglong and the Yu family head exchanged a glance from afar, then each drew a slip in turn and descended.

“Husband, look?”

Yin Linglong handed the slip to him.

Wang Yu glanced at it and saw a faint silver “Thirty-Six” clearly written on it.

“How many families are participating in this contest?” Wang Yu scanned the other platforms and asked.

“I just checked—sixty-four families. Almost every family has entered.” Yin Linglong spoke gravely.

“So we’ll need five rounds to determine the final two.” Wang Yu calculated slowly.

“Indeed. But this kind of contest also depends on luck—if you avoid strong opponents all the way, it’s still possible to reach the final two directly.” Yin Linglong frowned slightly.

“Hah! I hope that person is me.” Wang Yu laughed.

At that moment, the Yu family head showed his slip to Gu Lian; after a brief whisper, Gu Lian walked straight toward Wang Yu and smiled.

“I drew number Thirteen. What number did you draw, Wang friend?”

“Thirty-Six. It seems we won’t have a chance to spar for a while.” Wang Yu gave his number calmly.

“Hah, true—but if we both make it to the middle rounds, we’ll still likely meet.” Gu Lian chuckled.

Wang Yu nodded and said nothing more.

For at that moment, Liu Ming above the training ground announced the competition had begun.

Two figures immediately flew from opposite platforms and landed on either side of the training ground.

One was an unremarkable gray-haired old man, about sixty, holding only a slender sword; the other was a young man of about twenty, handsome and upright, but holding a black circular bowl.

The scholar in midair raised one hand, formed a seal, and pointed downward. The banners around them hummed, their surfaces glowing with multicolored inscriptions as a translucent giant dome appeared, enclosing the entire training ground.

Clearly, the match would take place within this barrier.

“Begin.”

Liu Ming’s voice rang out from above.

The young man below immediately raised his bowl high and chanted incantations.

Instantly, blue light surged around him, and torrents of water gushed from the bowl, drawn into the blue aura, spinning wildly into layered, roaring water curtains that completely enveloped the youth.

Seeing this, the gray-haired old man simply crossed his slender sword before him and walked forward, expressionless.

“Swoosh!” “Swoosh!”

Several blue water arrows shot from the curtain—but the old man slashed them apart one by one with his sword, his steps never pausing.

“Go!”

Seeing this, the youth in the water curtain unhesitatingly urged his artifact; the swirling curtain rolled back violently, rising into a massive wave over ten zhang tall, swallowing the advancing old man whole.

But the next instant—a dull “Boom!” echoed.

The wave instantly shattered and vanished. The gray-haired old man stood where he was, sword in hand; the handsome youth lay unconscious on the ground.

“Number One wins.”

Liu Ming above declared without hesitation, then tapped his short ruler, dissolving the barrier below.

On the surrounding stone platforms, the cultivation families stirred in commotion.

“Husband, what happened? I didn’t see anything—yet the outcome was decided.” Yin Linglong asked Wang Yu, equally startled.

“Incredibly fast. His slender sword was strange—it suddenly lengthened and softened when engulfed by the water. Wait, it wasn’t a sword at all—it was a whip. One lash knocked the opponent out cold.” Wang Yu had activated his hyperfocus for an instant, his expression slightly odd as he replied.

“What? That was a whip?” Yin Linglong stared in disbelief, fixing her gaze once more on the old man’s slender weapon.

At that moment, the old man calmly flew back to his clan’s platform, carrying his weapon, greeted by cheers.

“This man is no ordinary opponent. He probably didn’t even use half his strength.” The purple-robed man across the way watched the old man with interest, murmuring.

“So dangerous?” The Yu family head’s face darkened slightly.

“Very dangerous. Not a single wasted motion. Except for the moment he was engulfed by water—he seemed to use a Water-Repelling Spell. Otherwise, he expended not a single ounce of spiritual energy. Clearly, he’s aiming for the final slot and is conserving his strength.” Gu Lian spoke calmly.

“Then, Gu brother, you—”

“Don’t worry. Though strong, he’s no match for me.” Gu Lian said confidently.

“Good. This contest rests entirely on you, Gu brother.” The Yu family head exhaled in relief and bowed again.

"Hah, don't worry. I've taken so many spiritual stones from your family—I'll give it my all. This competition has many strong opponents; it's excellent training for me." The purple-robed man smiled.

…

“Three and Four.”

Liu Ming called out the next pair from above.

Two more figures flew from their platforms and landed on the training ground.

This time, both were middle-aged men.

One wore a silver robe, glittering with jewels, holding a large silver shield in one hand and a thick stack of talismans in the other.

The other was barefoot, dressed in tattered clothes, holding only a dull, greenish copper mirror that looked broken.

“Begin.”

The scholar above activated the barrier once more and gave the command.