Chapter 237: The Gap Within the Same Realm

"Chen Ruiyang… a core disciple of the Chen Immortal Clan?"

"Correct—not a branch family that changed its surname, but a true Chen bloodline, undefeated in all three matches of the preliminary round."

"I see."

The officials of the Immortal Supervision Office traveled to every Immortal Garden to deliver the match lists, instantly turning the once-silent dusk into a bustling scene.

At this moment, Wen Siyuan also arrived at Ji You's room, handed him the match list, and discussed the upcoming opponent—the Chen clan disciple.

"In his three matches, Chen Ruiyang used the Immortal Clan's divine arts, different from any opponent you've faced before."

"Inherited Dao Art?"

"Yes, precisely—an inherited Dao Art."

In Qingyun Tian, inherited Dao Arts are exceedingly rare, for there is a barrier between mortals and the Celestial, and many things can only be understood intuitively, never fully conveyed in words.

Ordinary aristocratic disciples can only attain such arts through personal insight upon reaching the Fusion Dao realm.

But Immortal Sects and ancient, deeply rooted clans, after centuries of accumulation, truly can pass down their arts to their descendants.

According to Wen Siyuan's observations, Chen Ruiyang's combat strength ranks among the upper tier among the sixty competitors in the second round—he's a formidable foe.

"By the way, there's another thing you should note: this Chen Ruiyang is just like you, Ji Shidi."

"How so?"

"He, too, is one of the Chen clan's disciples who once gazed upon the Dao Stele."

Wen Siyuan himself didn't know the full extent of Ji You's Peak Combat power, nor how strong the second-round competitors truly were—he could only relay everything he knew and leave judgment to Ji You.

The Immortal Sect disciples and descendants of ancient clans have revealed little of their true strength so far; some matches will require adaptability on the spot.

Ji You listened and understood—he knew the Chen Immortal Clan's sacred artifact was the Dao Stele, just like the Heavenly Book of the Heavenly Library and the Spirit Mirror of Spirit Sword Mountain.

Those who have gazed upon their own sacred artifact are invariably among the elite; mentioning such a fact alone would make any opponent grow solemn.

Ji You had gone through this stage himself—he understood perfectly.

The second-round match list had just been released, and speculation ran rampant; many secretly tracked the next opponents of those they cared about, weighing combat gaps and win probabilities based on past knowledge.

Meanwhile, Ding Yao and Ding Wanqiu sat across the way on the upper floor, studying the match list, already aware that Ji You's next opponent was an Immortal Sect disciple, and promptly reported the news to their master.

The junior master of Spirit Sword Mountain had just "punished a man who didn't use Spirit Sword Mountain's sword art," leaving his lips swollen red; now his eyes lowered, falling upon the list.

At nearly the same moment, the Lou family was also studying the name of Ji You on the list.

Their prodigy hadn't fought in the final round; though no reason was given, they were certainly focused on the opponent he was supposed to face.

And like them, others too harbored curiosity about this name, now studying the match list in deep thought.

The next morning, faint sunlight spilled across the Ancestors' Garden.

The Nine Great Arenas began to fill with crowds; though some arenas remained sparsely attended while others were packed, the elevated status of the competitors meant there were no longer scenes like the Cangwu Arena, where only a handful of spectators lingered.

Ji You had just finished washing up and sat eating his morning meal when Cao Jinsong, Wen Zhengxin, Pei Ruyi, and Ban Yangshu arrived early to find him.

They lived in Zhongxing Commandery and had poor information flow—they only knew the second-round list had been released, but not who faced whom; only upon meeting him did they learn his next opponent was a Chen Immortal Clan disciple.

And this man wasn't a later adoptee who changed his surname—he was genuine Chen bloodline.

Yet after learning this, Cao Jinsong and the others said nothing, offered no advice.

Because Cao Jinsong felt he could no longer give Ji You any advice…

Wen Zhengxin and the others, who had followed the matches these past days, felt the same.

But Ji You thought differently from what they imagined.

"This Chen disciple is said to be very strong. After I got the list last night, I couldn't sleep—I was anxious, afraid I might lose."

Ji You ate his rice porridge and couldn't help speaking: "If I want to increase my chances of winning, I should buy a few sets of magical artifacts—just in case."

Cao Jinsong glanced at him, his beard bristling with anger—he thought: You're talking nonsense.

This is the solemn Heavenly Dao Tournament—yet your mind is full of worldly trinkets.

Wretched disciple!

After breakfast, the five of them joined the throng and headed toward one of the arenas in the Ancestors' Garden.

Nine morning matches: three in Fusion Dao, six in Tongxuan. Of the six Tongxuan matches, the most watched was Qiao Mo of the Shanhai Pavilion against his opponent.

But the attention wasn't on Qiao Mo—it was on his opponent, named Ba Yang.

The Ba clan resided in the northwest of Qingzhou, a minor family of little renown, only slightly larger than the Qiu clan that served the He and Zuoqiu clans; logically, Ba Yang should have been as ignored as the Cangwu Arena's contestants, watched only by their own kin.

Yet in reality, Ba Yang was the most popular Tongxuan competitor in this Heavenly Dao Tournament.

Even during the preliminary rounds, some had compared him to Immortal Sect disciples.

So far, only three Tongxuan competitors had broken through during the match—and Ba Yang was one of them. That meant Qiao Mo wasn't facing a peer—he was facing a beginner Fusion Dao cultivator.

Hum!

As the void trembled, a blue barrier erupted along the edge of the platform, sealing the battlefield like an inverted crystal dome.

Qiao Mo of the Shanhai Pavilion lightly tapped the platform's edge; his blade gleamed with chilling light, its sharp aura instantly sweeping across the stage, igniting the entire circular arena with brilliant frost.

"It's Shanhai Pavilion's Peerless Edge—his opening intent is already so full."

"No wonder he's an Immortal Sect disciple."

As the crowd held its breath, the long blade surged forward like a wild wolf.

Coincidentally, Ba Yang, a beginner Fusion Dao cultivator, also wielded a long blade; as his massive, tower-like frame leaned forward, the black saber at his waist became a dark cloud sweeping the ground in a horizontal slash.

Clang!

As shadowy figures tangled, sparks flew back and forth.

Qiao Mo, no doubt an Immortal Sect disciple, remained calm even against a foe who had leapt two realms—he gripped his blade with crimson hands, each swing brimming with razor-sharp energy, the force condensing along the blade's edge and surging forth in trembling bursts.

Even through the barrier, the blade's sharpness sent a chill through onlookers.

Ba Yang, by contrast, fought with unrestrained, sweeping motions—his stances were vast, his attacks roaring like storms, each slash whipping up howling wind, as if a thousand cavalry charges thundered forth.

Clearly, neither held back; their spiritual energy had churned into a colossal vortex within the barrier.

Their blades were nearly identical, so much so that cultivators with weak spiritual senses couldn't tell who was striking—only the clashing of steel echoed endlessly.

Back and forth, the blade winds grew fierce.

This first match of the second round displayed a vigor unseen in any preliminary bout.

Qiao Mo's Peerless Edge was one of Shanhai Pavilion's transmitted arts—extraordinarily sharp, capable of severing anything without resistance; his strike trembled like a falling star.

Yet as the blade-light flashed repeatedly, the spectators on the south side of the platform—Shanhai Pavilion disciples—grew pale.

Boom!

Beneath the mountain-splitting, rock-shattering might of the blade, Qiao Mo stumbled backward from the entangled aura, his iron blade trembling slightly; then he leapt back, breathing heavily, his brow furrowed, his spiritual aura growing chaotic.

At this moment, Ba Yang spun to dissipate force, and his iron blade, still trembling, swung out again—simple, unadorned, relentless…

Seeing this, even Immortal Sect disciples other than Shanhai Pavilion's changed expression slightly.

Qiao Mo wasn't the strongest of the four Tongxuan disciples Shanhai Pavilion sent—but being chosen to represent the Immortal Sect meant he was no fraud.

Some had watched him since the preliminaries, knowing his Peerless Edge was truly razor-sharp, capable of slicing through an opponent's protective spiritual aura.

Ba Yang, by contrast, possessed no refined techniques—he relied almost entirely on brute force, his style wide and open, focused only on bringing down his blade.

Yet even so, despite the one-realm gap, Qiao Mo couldn't compensate for the difference in spiritual energy replenishment speed or the raw power of their aura—gradually, he was being crushed by Ba Yang's pressure.

Boom!

Amidst the murmurs, a sudden explosion of spiritual energy erupted.

The two iron blades clashed violently again; Qiao Mo's lips bled, his aura destabilizing, while Ba Yang's assault grew even more relentless…

"The realm gap is truly irreplaceable. These competitors who broke through right before the match—these exploiters of the Heavenly Dao Tournament's loopholes—might become a major problem."

"Correct. I suspect some are already on guard."

"Oh?"

"I just heard someone say it's terrifying, utterly unbeatable, and begged their instructor to buy them magical artifacts—they're clearly terrified."

Ba Yang's match against Qiao Mo opened the curtain on the Tongxuan battles of the Heavenly Dao Tournament, showcasing the formidable power such cultivators should possess with razor-sharp blade energy.

In the second round of the Heavenly Dao Tournament, two other matches were equally worth watching.

One: Wei Bo of the Wei family, a thousand-year clan from Yongzhou, versus Chen Shuo of the Chen Immortal Clan, at Qiyun Arena. The other: Li Yunlang of the old imperial Li family of Zhongzhou, versus Shang Shan, a female disciple of Wenda Sect, at Tianji Arena.

Wei Bo and Li Yunlang were both popular contenders in this tournament, long under scrutiny.

Chen Shuo and Shang Shan, representing their respective Immortal Sects, were no weaklings either; such clashes between ancient clans and Immortal Sects naturally drew immense attention.

Even elders with white beards and celestial demeanor couldn't resist coming—whether to cheer or to watch—and lined up in rows.

Following Wen Siyuan's advice, after watching the first match, Ji You should head to Qiyun Arena.

The reason? Simply because both Chen Shuo and Chen Ruiyang were Chen Immortal Clan disciples; since they shared the same lineage, Wen Siyuan believed Chen Shuo's techniques would resemble Chen Ruiyang's, offering Ji You a useful reference.

But if Ji You chose freely, excluding external factors, he thought—why not watch a match with a woman? It would be more pleasing to the eye…

It was said Shang Shan was exceptionally beautiful—the kind Long Xiandi would adore but could never reach.

Ji You felt, as a friend, he should go and witness this beauty for him.

Yet considering the ever-present jealous spirit living in the garden, Ji You walked with upright dignity toward Qiyun Arena and took his seat among the spectators.

This Chen clan disciple wielded a slightly shorter iron blade—only a bit longer than a kitchen knife.

It was said the Chen Immortal Clan used such short, broad weapons, just as Spirit Sword Mountain favored slender three-foot green blades.

His opponent, the Wei family disciple, held a long sword.

Sword and blade were the two weapons universally recognized in Qingyun Tian as most suited to carrying Dao, hence their high frequency in combat—unless one practiced a special scripture or art requiring a different weapon.

As in the previous match, both struck with overwhelming killing intent from the outset.

No secrets held. No mercy shown.

Both knew this battle differed from the preliminary rounds, where strength varied wildly—any misstep meant total defeat.

Chen Shuo let out a low roar, his arm muscles knotting like iron; his heavy blade met the attack with thunder and wind, instantly slicing through the air with a deafening crackle.

Wei Bo, clearly well-versed in sword Dao, moved with a steady, abyss-like gait; his strikes were sharp and fierce, and each slash of his Dao sword unleashed sudden, torrential beams of icy radiance that followed the blade's edge.

This was the Wei family's ancestral Dao art, the depth of a millennia-old lineage, called Heavenly Light Guidance.

What specific Dao principles it fused remained unknown to outsiders, yet all could feel the overwhelming pressure emanating from the Dao sword wrapped in myriad rays of radiant light.

Clang!

In their clash, the wind and waves each man summoned collided head-on.

Chen Shuo's blade technique was formidable, partly due to the Chen Shixian Clan's cultivation method—each slash carried a force more terrifying than Ba Yang's.

Yet as the iron blade descended, Wei Bo suddenly twisted his wrist, his Dao sword shifting tactics; the radiant light coiled like a living thing around the blade, wielding a thousand-jin force to deflect it away.

Chen Shuo instantly felt a violent tug—he dropped his waist, planted his feet, poured all his strength into the blade, and swung back in a direct counter-cut; the severed radiance splashed in all directions, blindingly bright.

Clang! The scorching iron blade spun back.

Chen Shuo breathed spiritual energy through his soles, first using the momentum to create distance, then unleashing a torrent of spiritual energy as he spun and slashed again; his heavy footfalls shook the stage with thunderous booms.

Clang! A greater storm roared toward him.

Wei Bo gritted his teeth and slashed downward diagonally, channeling the Heavenly Light technique—rays of auspicious light erupted along his sword.

Clang! Chen Shuo's iron blade sliced again into the radiant light.

Then came the third strike—a heavier, horizontal slash that plunged into the radiance, yet the blade never touched Wei Bo's front.

Seeing this, Chen Shuo's face darkened with malice; Wei Bo swung his sword forward, the swordplay shifting from slow to swift, the radiant light now surging endlessly across the arena…

Seeing this, Ji You's gaze locked briefly on Chen Shuo, his eyes flickering with golden light as he carefully observed Chen Shuo's blade strikes again and again.

Thanks to his cultivation of "add flour when too watery, add water when too doughy," Ji You's spiritual sense could now track the blade's path and perceive the bursts of different qi forces.

This Chen Shixian Clan's sword art… indeed—it grew heavier with each strike.

Yet Chen Shuo had not pushed it to its limit.

Not because he held back, but because his opponent, Wei Bo, had clearly anticipated this—and left Chen Shuo no opening.

"Incredible. I told you—I need to save up for some magical artifacts. Can't afford to be careless."

"?"

Cao Jingsong snapped back to awareness, glanced at Ji You, and silently cursed: "Worthless disciple."

Though he understood Ji You was just making excuses to extort money, Cao Jiaoxi still felt a pang of awe—and so did Wen Zhengxin and Ban Yangshu beside him.

Those called Immortal Sect disciples in the outside world were almost always insiders who began in the Inner Court.

Those who entered the Heavenly Dao Assembly were no ordinary Inner Court disciples.

Likewise, though "noble family descendants" encompassed them all, a century-old lineage and a millennium-old lineage were worlds apart.

They had seen countless Tongxuan Realm cultivators before, but only now did they realize: these elite Tongxuan cultivators, trained in ancestral arts and burdened with family legacies, far surpassed their estimates in combat power.

It was like that day in Yecheng Mountain—how vastly different the Immortal Sect's Dao-integrated cultivators were from those in the Immortal Villages who had merely endured decades to reach Dao integration.

Ji You felt the same—he now understood why everyone said the second round was the true beginning of the Heavenly Dao Assembly.

Because these two kinds of battles were utterly different.

His group's first opponent was Tang Jingming, who, before their match, had boasted he had watched countless battles and believed his utmost effort could match even Immortal Sect disciples.

But now it seemed otherwise.

In the first-round group matches, the Immortal Sect disciples had not revealed their full strength—they had hidden their final moves.

Those Tang Jingming thought he could defeat with all his might were merely holding back…

Swirling spiritual energy, majestic immortal light, surging blade and sword flashes—suddenly the sky blazed brilliantly, dazzling and overwhelming to behold.

Many cultivators who had lost in the group rounds, still nursing resentment, suddenly felt their hearts unclench upon seeing the second-round battles; they now saw their earlier wins and losses as meaningless.

For they realized: even if they had faced only inferior opponents in the group stage, relying on luck to reach this point, they likely had nowhere left to go.

Noble family descendants all saw themselves as heavenly prodigies—but even among prodigies, there were distinctions.

(Recommended: a friend's new novel, "The Great Song Literary Master"—a youth with bold spirit, sword raised, his writings scoffing at kings and dukes. Drunk, he lashes the stars as he rides past Fan Tower, his robe steeped in Tang grandeur, half a scroll of Song elegance! Link below ↓)

(End of Chapter)