Chapter Twenty-Two Consecutive Defeats

As Chen Yi walked to the center of the arena, a robust youth appeared on the opposite side. His thick brows and large eyes, his broad shoulders and muscular frame made him look less like a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old and more like a man in his twenties. He strode toward the platform and stood facing Chen Yi.

“Lin Pan, cultivation at the eighth level of Qi Refinement.”

“Chen Yi, cultivation at the sixth level of Qi Refinement.”

“I know you,” Lin Pan said with excitement. “I heard you defeated four disciples at the seventh level of Qi Refinement a few days ago. But I have reached the eighth level—you couldn’t possibly beat me. I’m really lucky to face you in my first match.”

“Lucky? I wouldn’t say so,” Chen Yi replied, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

“Lin Pan isn’t lucky at all—he’s actually quite unfortunate. With my strength, I can easily defeat him. He’s about to lose his first fight, though fortunately, this tournament uses a points system. Otherwise, he’d be in real trouble.”

This tournament was based on points. Each disciple had ten matches; every victory earned one point, and defeats brought none. The top ten scorers competed for the top ten rankings, while the remaining ninety were ranked according to their points. The point system’s primary purpose was to ensure fairness in the outer sect competition.

“There’s no need to waste time. Let’s settle this with a single move!” Lin Pan, confident in victory, impatiently called out to Chen Yi.

“Very well, one move it is,” Chen Yi answered readily.

“Rock Fist!”

Lin Pan launched the attack first. Though the punch seemed slow, as if it could easily be dodged, an invisible force locked onto Chen Yi, making evasion impossible.

“What a formidable Rock Fist,” Chen Yi thought, seeing Lin Pan unleash his strongest punch. He dared not neglect it; channeling his true energy and the power of the Heavenly Dragon bloodline into his right fist, he activated the Dragon Elephant technique and struck with force toward Lin Pan’s Rock Fist.

A thunderous crash echoed. A figure flew off the platform; the surrounding disciples peered closer and saw Lin Pan had been instantly thrown off the arena, while Chen Yi stood unscathed at its center.

The watching disciples all stared wide-eyed, utterly stunned. They could hardly believe what had just transpired before them.

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“Brother Chen, thank you for showing mercy. Please forgive my earlier words,” Lin Pan said as he got up. His first action was not revenge, but gratitude.

Lin Pan was well aware that when their fists met, an overwhelming force surged upon him. He felt like a lone boat in the vast sea, threatened to be swallowed at any moment.

Fortunately, Chen Yi had withdrawn some of his power in time; otherwise, Lin Pan would have been gravely injured, if not killed.

After the first round ended, Chen Yi soon encountered his second opponent—a youth in elegant attire, his face set in arrogant pride.

“Chen Yi,” he announced.

“You’d best admit defeat, lest you suffer unnecessary injury,” the youth in fine clothes said with disdain after glancing at Chen Yi.

The disciples below the stage murmured at the remark; most did not recognize the youth, though a few did.

“That’s He Tian, ranked eleventh in the previous outer sect tournament. His strength is only just below the top ten, and with his mastery of the Thunderbolt Sword, he has often defeated disciples stronger than himself. Now that he’s at the eighth level of Qi Refinement, he’s clearly aiming for a place among the top ten.”

“Chen Yi may have knocked Lin Pan out in a single move, but this round, he’ll surely lose to He Tian.”

“I heard you defeated Lin Pan—impressive. I’ll give it my all; I hope you won’t disappoint me,” He Tian declared, holding nothing back as he unleashed his full strength. A pale purple sword energy tore through the air toward Chen Yi, so powerful that even the arena’s formations appeared.

“Rainbow Pierces the Sun!”

Chen Yi responded with the Illusory Light Sword technique, sending three strands of sword light to intercept the purple sword energy. Sword light and sword energy clashed, canceling each other out midair.

It seemed a draw, but Chen Yi knew he had lost—not in cultivation, for with his Dragon power and physical strength he rivaled a ninth-level cultivator. His defeat lay in swordsmanship; though the Illusory Light Sword was strange, its direct power fell short of He Tian’s Thunderbolt Sword. Clearly, Chen Yi needed a more powerful sword technique.

Seeing his move blocked, He Tian advanced with lightning speed, his sword leading the charge. He thrust with the blade, swift as thunder, splitting the air and dazzling the watching disciples with its might.

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“Rainbow Across the Skies!”

As He Tian unleashed his powerful sword move, Chen Yi hurriedly used the strongest technique within the Illusory Light Sword style.

Twelve sword lights surged toward He Tian, breaking through the lightning and slashing at him. He Tian tried to fend them off with his sword, but to his shock, his blade passed straight through the sword lights, which continued their assault.

“Impossible!” He Tian thought, stunned. Unable to dodge, he gathered all his spiritual energy at his chest to defend against the incoming sword lights.

With a resounding crash, the sword light sliced through the energy shield at He Tian’s chest, struck him, and sent him flying off the platform.

He Tian looked utterly incredulous. After a long moment, he finally recovered, lifted his head, and forced a bitter smile at Chen Yi. “Brother Chen, I’ve lost. I used to think I was at the top, unaware that there are always greater heights, and others more talented than myself.”

Turning away, He Tian’s figure seemed tinged with loneliness.

This battle sent ripples through the crowd. No one had expected Chen Yi to defeat He Tian so easily.

He Tian was a rare talent among the outer disciples; in last year’s tournament he had repeatedly bested stronger opponents, finishing eleventh overall. Had he been older, with more training, his ranking would surely have been higher. Today he aimed for the top ten, yet lost in the second round to an unknown contender like Chen Yi.

As Chen Yi’s match ended early, he watched the other disciples compete. Some displayed dazzling prowess, vanquishing opponents with ease. These disciples, all at the eighth level of Qi Refinement or above, were among the elite—favorites for the tournament’s top ten.

If Chen Yi wished to achieve a high ranking, he would have to face these elite disciples and defeat them. Thus, he observed their matches carefully, memorizing their moves and techniques. By studying their skills, Chen Yi hoped to resolve doubts in his own cultivation and refine his own abilities.