Chapter 246: Five Battles to the Summit

The atmosphere at the Heavenly Book Academy has been gloomy lately, especially as the finals draw near, for the final challenge round has eliminated most competitors.

He Lingxiu lost; her breakthrough was already barely ahead of the Heavenly Dao Assembly, and making it this far isn't too shameful.

Among the Fusion Dao realm, only Chai Ze advanced.

As for the Penetrating Mystery realm, after Gu Ze Tao and Wang Gaocen fell, Yu Shiliu was also defeated on the arena.

There are ten slots total for the Fusion Dao and Penetrating Mystery disciples; based on past qualifying lists, each of the Seven Immortal Sects—except Yu Danzong—typically claims one or two slots in these two realms.

The Heavenly Book Academy's achievement is actually quite average, but it truly falls short of its Sacred Sect reputation.

After all, Lingjian Mountain, sharing the same courtyard with them, had two entrants in Fusion Dao and originally could've had two in Penetrating Mystery, but ended up with only one—yet still led by a wide margin.

The Heavenly Book Academy has declined; over the past two centuries since the Patriarch ignored sect affairs, even its deep foundations seem unable to hold.

Some even say Chai Ze advanced by luck and won't secure a high ranking.

Yet while all Tian Shu Academy competitors drew mixed praise and criticism for their overall performance, one man escaped such judgment—a rural self-cultivator who had just returned from harvesting wheat, caked in mud.

"Among the Penetrating Mystery realm, Zhuang Zixin and Zhu Yao are the strongest; they should rank second and third. Others are weaker and will likely fall after the top three."

"Then who's the last one? Who do you think will come in last?"

"Probably Huo Hui from Shanhai Pavilion—he's strong too, but clearly still lacking in this final round; he'll likely finish last."

"Then who's first?"

"?"

"Forgive me, brothers—I've just broken through and arrived. I've been listening nearby for a while, but I didn't catch who might be first. You said Zhuang Zixin and Zhu Yao are the strongest, so why are they only second and third?"

"First… just watch. You'll see—once you see, you'll fall silent."

The ten slots of the Sage's Sacred Ground are all filled, but to outsiders, they're irrelevant; what matters is which of these peerless prodigies are truly stronger or weaker.

Thus, as the finals approached, cultivators from the Nine Provinces flooded toward the human cultivation ground in the northern part of Zhongxing County.

On this crisp autumn day, the great figures of the immortal sects arrived riding phoenix-litters, parting thick clouds as they crossed the sky and descended upon the human cultivation ground, bringing a vast mist that settled into the viewing pavilions.

Each of the ten competitors must fight five matches, ranked by their win-loss records across all five.

Ji You's first opponent was the highly renowned Li Yunlang, the direct heir of the old imperial family of Zhongzhou.

Li Yunlang's techniques enveloped him, golden light swirling around his body like the sun descending.

Anyone who reached this stage knew his combat power was no joke.

As the brilliant sword qi flashed across the vast human cultivation ground, the scorching aura of the sword path rose—yet the Sun God Decree kept shattering amid the surging waves of blades.

Yan Hao's injuries had healed considerably, but missing the Heavenly Dao Assembly finals had left him furious for days—he smashed many things, then endlessly replayed in his mind what he should've done differently to have a chance, or what might've secured victory.

Yet when he saw that crisp sword qi, carrying the heat of the body, howling through the arena, he finally fell silent.

Tang Jingming, Xiang Hui, and Chen Ruiyang felt the same—their eyes dull as if dusted with ash.

In contrast, Lou Wanpeng wore a smile.

He had withdrawn from his match against Ji You; after the news spread, everyone in the Sage's Garden—whether they knew him or not—called him reckless and capricious. Now, that judgment had turned to practical and self-aware.

Another point drew considerable attention.

After entering the finals, Ji You's sword momentum grew stronger—but not because his combat power increased, but because he no longer hesitated as he had in earlier matches.

Previously, he was cautious with every strike; now, his sword moved like the wind, bold and unrestrained, exuding effortless grace.

In his second match, Ji You faced a disciple from Lingjian Mountain's Xuan Sword Peak—the only Lingjian disciple to reach the finals, named Yan Rui.

His strength ranked mid-tier among the ten, slightly weaker than Li Yunlang.

Yet this time, Ji You fought three rounds, ending nearly breathless, while Yan Rui, though defeated, withstood more sword strikes than anyone else, causing spectators to regard him with new respect and astonishment.

Only Cao Jingsong, Wen Zhengxin, Ban Yangshu, and Pei Ruyi exchanged glances and spat in disgust.

They'd heard rumors that Lingjian Mountain's Xuan Sword Peak and Tian Sword Peak were at odds due to the disappearance of the former Mirror Master and the Mirror's choice of a new master.

If they'd once been puzzled why Ji You acted this way, now that he'd allied with Lingjian Mountain's young Mirror Master, even fools understood—he was openly siding with Xuan Sword Peak to undermine Tian Sword Peak.

Ding Yao and Zhuo Wanqiu understood even better, thinking: this favoritism is truly aiming to get our Mirror Master pregnant…

Of course, some clever ones believed Ji You's power seemed unstable—sometimes strong, sometimes weak—and others might still have a chance.

This notion lasted until his third match, when his opponent changed to Zhushun of Wenda.

Wei Yingmeng, daughter of the Shanhai Pavilion's branch master, was universally expected to make the top ten—but she unexpectedly lost in the second round, defeated by Zhushun.

When his broad chest tightened, his thick arms stretched like drawn black iron bows, and he brought his sword down with the force of collapsing mountains, sending shockwaves rippling through the air and rattling the barrier, all talk of Ji You's inconsistent power vanished.

Zhushun had no idea what sin he'd committed; he only knew he couldn't withstand Ji You's sword.

Though his iron blade blocked the overwhelming force, the roaring qi still shook him, making his body tremble and bones ache.

Boom!

A thunderous explosion erupted within the barrier.

Zhushun's iron blade clattered to the ground; his body flew backward, blood gushing from nose and mouth, his palms split, and he collapsed unconscious.

At that moment, all eyes turned to the slightly bewildered disciple from Xuan Sword Peak, their expressions filled with deep thought.

"That fight against Yan Hao felt similar—but Yan Hao was already in Fusion Dao, so how could this happen…?"

"Same sword art—could it be that Xuan Sword Peak's lineage is stronger?"

"It's not impossible; after all, the young Mirror Master hails from Xuan Sword Peak…"

The days of the finals were mechanical: strike, rest, body refinement—nothing else occurred.

During this time, Yan Shuyi and Yuan Caimei often came to see him.

Yuan Caimei's eyes always glowed with admiration, for she attended every match and heard the crowd's whispers about Ji You; everything she saw and heard fulfilled all her fantasies of a cultivator.

Yan Shuyi still wore her cold, aloof expression, yet her eyes betrayed a faint, glistening pride and warmth.

She loved how powerful this stranger was, and how even in battle, he sought to make Xuan Sword Peak appear stronger.

As Ding Yao and Zhuo Wanqiu said, even a woman as formidable as the young Mirror Master was still a woman—and couldn't resist such things.

But they always came together, leaving Ji You no chance to "procreate endlessly."

In truth, this wasn't coincidence—they'd been inseparable these past days.

Yuan Caimei noticed Yan Shuyi no longer glared at her as fiercely as before; when they spoke of their sworn sisterhood, Yan no longer radiated sword qi with a scowl.

This differed from last winter's hibernation, leaving her puzzled.

Ding Yao and Zhuo Wanqiu believed they understood: after watching Ji You's duels, they knew the young Mirror Master's power was beyond ordinary endurance; whenever they imagined themselves in his place, they felt they'd be shattered in a few strikes.

Even with weapons to block sword strikes, they had nothing to block when imagining themselves—only enduring it. No wonder the Mirror Master had slightly relaxed her resistance.

But their understanding was still incomplete, for they didn't know their Mirror Master had already seen the weapon—she had its true dimensions in mind, which was why she'd reacted so strongly.

Still, Yan Shuyi's jealousy remained; she watched Yuan Caimei closely, as if she dared not act herself but feared her sister would get to the good thing first.

"Three."

"Seven."

"King."

"Pass."

At dusk, the sky blazed with crimson clouds; the "family of three" sat quietly playing cards at a tea table.

The cards were drawn by Ji You, the rules taught by him—simple Old Maid.

As they took turns playing, a soft rustling sound emerged beneath the table, prompting Ji You to glance down.

The tea table in the cottage was narrow—barely wide enough for a pair of snow-white legs to stretch out.

Ji You sat cross-legged; beneath the table, two pairs of pale, delicate feet swayed, brushing against his robe hem, their gentle motions creating faint rustles against his front.

The young Mirror Master's feet were smaller and whiter, soft and plump; Yuan Caimei's were more proportioned, yet equally pinkish-white, smooth and lustrous.

After watching for a while, Ji You suddenly reached beneath the table and snapped twice—striking the plump, pearl-like toes of both women. Instantly, they gasped and instinctively pulled their feet back.

The Yu Danzong girl couldn't hide her blush; her cheeks flushed red.

The Lingjian Mountain little jealous one's face turned pale with red, her beautiful eyes half-lidded, her cold gaze tinged with jealousy.

Whoosh—a beautiful foot shot out from beneath the table, carrying a sweet breeze.

Yan Shuyi meant to kick his calf, but her soft sole suddenly pressed against something stiff and unyielding; her eyes widened slightly, then she quickly retracted her foot beneath her skirt.

Ji You's gaze turned peculiar—he thought: I haven't even won yet, and there's already a reward…

Autumn deepened; leaves began to fall.

The fourth match began; Ji You's ranking had now climbed to the very top of the contention.

Others had also fought among themselves to complete five matches, but all had wins and losses—only Ji You had swept forward, unstoppable.

At dawn, he rode the cool breeze into the ancient human cultivation ground, facing his opponent this round: Zhu Yao, brother of Zhu Shun.

Honestly, although the Zhu brothers now represented Wenda, their origin was the Zhu family; for two prodigies from the same family to both enter the top ten was rare—usually seen only among immortal sect bloodlines—and it was astonishing.

Yet Ji You's sword momentum was too hard to resist.

Though Zhu Yao was far stronger than his brother Zhu Shun, he was still utterly suppressed, then shattered by a thunderous blow, his aura in chaos, his defeat obvious.

Before the Heavenly Dao Assembly, no one imagined this.

They expected the role to belong to Tian Sword Peak's Yan Hao, or Zhuang Zixin, or even the quiet, prostrate Zhu Yao.

But what they saw was a man who looked like a frail scholar, now standing like a god or demon in the arena, his aura thick and scorching, overpowering the entire Penetrating Mystery realm…

The human cultivation ground wasn't open to all; those residing in the Sage's Garden held noble status and could enter freely, but those staying in county inns lacked connections and couldn't gain entry.

For such a grand, world-renowned event, being unable to watch was deeply regrettable.

But this Heavenly Dao Assembly differed from past ones: as the finals began, a masked storyteller suddenly appeared on the streets of Zhongxing County.

This storyteller was truly gifted—his descriptions of battles were rich in detail, full of rhythm and tension, making listeners feel as if they were there, hair standing on end, instantly drawing crowds.

Including downstream clans and some immortal estate masters.

Most eye-catching was a well-dressed young nobleman who listened from start to finish each time, clapping wildly when excited, muttering "brother-in-law" repeatedly.

Another slender scholar came daily too; after each tale, he copied it down and hurried to the postal relay.

The private cultivator admitted to the Heavenly Book Academy under special circumstances defeated Li Yunlang, of the Li clan, a thousand-year noble family of the Central Continent and descendant of the old imperial house.

The private cultivator admitted to the Heavenly Book Academy under special circumstances defeated Zhu Shun, the prodigy of the Wenda Sect.

The private cultivator admitted to the Heavenly Book Academy under special circumstances defeated Zhu Yao, the prodigy of the Wenda Sect.

For several days in a row, the number of people coming to listen to the storytelling grew, yet as more gathered, the storytelling venue grew increasingly silent.

For they knew that the rural private cultivator—who had revealed his cultivation base saving a little girl, been taken from the remote Fengzhou, admitted to the Heavenly Book Academy under special circumstances, and defeated the second son of the Chu family, opening the inner courtyard gate with his sword—was about to ascend to the top of the Heavenly Dao Assembly.

In the fifth match, Ji You's final match, his opponent was Zhuang Zixin, the second son of the Zhuang family.

The two stepped onto the stage, instantly silencing the crowd.

Both wielded swords, their builds nearly identical; standing on the stage, their sword intentions had already begun to brew.

Then, with a hum, a fierce sword qi surged skyward—Zhuang Zixin gripped his longsword and slashed horizontally with a sharp gaze.

At that moment, Ji You drew his sword, his entire aura suddenly surging forth, then he swung his blade.

Amidst the wild whirl of energy and the clamor of clashing metal, sparks flew endlessly.

Zhuang Zixin's sword was swift, yet never lacking in power—he followed a path entirely opposite to Yan Hao's, his offensive momentum fiercer than before.

His speed did not stem from sword art, but from his body technique, a form of spellcraft that greatly amplified his movement, making him as swift as lightning.

This was, in fact, a very sound choice.

For those who reached the final round were either exceptionally fast or possessed overwhelming offensive power.

But what was despairing was that Ji You's speed was even faster, his force even more formidable—each swing of his sword fell like thunder, and after only a few exchanges, he had already destabilized Zhuang Zixin's sword intent, his eyes bloodshot.

He had no body technique; his speed came entirely from raw physical explosive power—each step forward erupted upward, shattering the stone tiles beneath his feet, then the sword's howl filled the air, directly smashing Zhuang Zixin's sword into disarray.

Then another brilliant, snowy Dao sword rose and came crashing down.

Zhuang Zixin gasped, raising his sword, his entire aura swirling wildly; he bore the deafening sword strike with all his strength, freezing the scene as if time had halted.

But everyone knew that the Zhuang family's second son was resisting the direct sword pressure with every ounce of his energy—and now, his arms rapidly reddened, veins bulging violently.

Boom!

As the crowd held their breath, Ji You, expressionless, seized his second sword and slashed backward, his powerful aura cleaving through the heavy airwave before him.

With a deafening clang, like a massive black iron bow fully drawn, the blade descended again—Zhuang Zixin was flung sideways, the crushed airwave blasting him dozens of feet away.

In the eastern viewing pavilion, an old man in loose robes had bright eyes: "Excellent physique…"

The five Hall Masters of the Heavenly Book Academy turned their heads, looking toward their master.

The battles in the human Dao arena were not limited to this one—there were also confrontations among those of the Fusion Dao realm, seemingly more spectacular—but their master had always been dozing off, until now, when he suddenly grew alert.

The sunlight was exceptionally brilliant as Ji You floated gently to the ground, his white robe settling amid the calming winds.

Seeing this, Princess Zhao Yunyue's gaze grew vacant, while Qiu Han Yue, daughter of the Qiu family, bit her lip tightly.

Those with similar expressions were Yu Shiliu, Wang Gaocen, and Gu Ze Tao, who had just awakened from his coma.

Before coming here, they had never fought Ji You, always assuming everyone was on the same Tongxuan realm level—that any difference must be negligible, especially since their own backgrounds were even more illustrious than his.

But this Heavenly Dao Assembly had shown them not only that they could not yet match the disciples of other immortal sects, but also that the strongest among them had been beside them all along.

He won.

Ji You won all five matches, decisively claiming the top rank in the Tongxuan realm of the Heavenly Dao Assembly by overwhelming force.

(End of Chapter)