Modern Patriarch

And then it was replaced by a sudden, abrupt silence. The sudden halt of the drumming was intended to disrupt the focus of the combatants, for battles in the cultivator world did not come with a warning. However, its true purpose was to signal the commencement of the duel— Zhengwei was the first to recover, letting out a loud battle cry as he charged forward with a mad intensity in his eyes. Half a second had been lost, the rhythm of his breathing disrupted— even though he knew it was coming, he was not yet skilled enough to avoid it.

Longtian Cui reacted a step later than Zhengwei, choosing to meet the latter in his charge. The spectators held their breaths as the two rising stars of the outer sect charged forward, one with the sword and the other with a scimitar.

The shrill sound of metal clashing against metal ran out, and the thrilled crowd let out loud cheers. Both the disciples had cycled Qi through their body to increase their speed and strength, and in the end it was Longtian Cui who was faced to take a step back.

Zhengwei’s eyes lit up as he saw a golden opportunity, his eyes shining with complete focus. He unleashed a torrent of blows in rapid succession, his sword carrying the weight of his desires. His blows were wild and untamed, like a feral beast of prey that had been unleashed into the wilderness— the wide grin upon his face and his hawkish eyes that tracked his quarry with utmost precision made Zhengwei’s scimitar style be more reminiscent of a spiritual beast than man, causing Longtian Cui’s expression to grow paler as he was forced back step after step, a glimmer of fear reflected in his eyes.

Emboldened, Zhengwei continued to invest more qi into his blows, determined to give his opponent no chance to launch a counter attack.

“It is a pity,” Yao Shen lightly sighed, his right hand moving rapidly as he sketched something upon a scroll that was clipped to a wooden support.

“Too young,” Flame Patriarch Lei Weiyuan replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Longtian Cui attempted to defend, but Zhengwei’s scimitar style was too erratic— refined where a simple blow would suffice and oddly straightforward when a skilled opponent would use to maneovre, to gain advantage.

Duels at the Qi-Refinement level could be often one sided, for disciples at this level had only so many ways to counter. Longtian continued to be pushed back, until merely a few meters separated him from the white line that marked the boundary-line.

At the cusp of victory, Zhengwei could almost taste the glory that awaited him. It was then, that his instincts rebelled against that thought. His opponent, that had been heavily panting and seemingly expended, completely transformed. Longtian Cui met Zhengwei’s gaze, his expression placid as he, in a display of exquisite skill switched to a reverse grip with a flick of his wrist.

Zhengwei immediately wished to retreat, but he had already committed to the blow. He watched in shock as Longtian Cui gently caught his blow with the sharp edge of his sword, before laxing his grip. Zhengwei’s scimitar let out an ear-piercing sound as it slid along the edge of the young master’s blade, only sheer determination allowing him to pull back his blade before it smashed upon the ground and left him open to attack.

He felt the air being knocked out of his lungs, for whilst he was ready to defend against blade, Longtian Cui unleashed a qi-empowered kick upon his sternum.

Frustration flowed through Zhengwei as he went sliding back for a dozen meters, immediately spitting out a mouthful of blood as he frenziedly tried to spot his foe.

The young master was upon him in seconds, his expression almost serene as his slender blade unleashed a thrust directed towards his abdomen.

“Damn it!” Zhengwei screamed, batting the blade away with his scimitar. But while Zhengwei’s scimitar style was untamed, Longtian’s was the opposite— methodological and calm, this time it was Zhengwei who was repeatedly pushed back. Each strike had the same amount of force behind it, but Longtian’s sword technique was a thing of beauty; graceful and refined, resembling a master artisan given free rein upon a broad canvas. But most importantly, it was deadly, as Longtian increased the speed of his thrusts and slashes in waves, confronting his foe with a greater challenge each time he got used to his rhythm.

Zhengwei’s defense grew desperate, for while his foe’s blows were light, they were relentless, neverending. So far, he had been able to match Longtian’s speed, blocking his strikes with gritted teeth, but if he increased his tempo by a notch… he knew the fight would be over.

As he parried a strike while forced to take a step back, he mentally prepared himself , estimating the next strike’s trajectory with his superhuman reflexes and repositioning his blade.

He waited to hear the familiar clang of steel against steel, but none came.

His instincts screamed at him, and Zhengwei realized with horror as the blade slipped underneath its own that he had reset the tempo and gone back to the speed he had begun his volley of attacks with. The final blade, the one that would take his life, would also be the slowest one.

Defiance welled up in his heart, and a strong fury at his treacherous opponent caused his left arm to ignite in flames, reaching for his face.

As the blade and the fire qi was on the cusp of dealing fatal attacks, Yao Shen unleashed his divine sense.

This time, both the disciples paled as an inviolable force locked down upon their bodies, freezing them to the spot. Their deadly attacks were inches away from each other, but they would never be able to take the final step.

Yao Shen gazed down upon the children, letting out another light sigh. In his eyes, this duel had never been a fight between disciples, but instead, a fight between a representative of the outer sect and the legacy families. It had allowed him to gain much insight into the Sacred Flame Palace’s operation, for much could be deciphered from this simple battle.

And ultimately….

“This duel is over!” Yao Shen’s voice echoed out loudly, the thrilled spectators letting out cheers as both named were loudly chanted.

“Zhengwei!”

“Young Master Longtian!”

Zhengwei let out a relieved sigh, as he gave his opponent a proud look. On the other hand, Longtian Cui gave him the same placid expression, as if the outcome did not concern him. Which was surprising, for while a draw was not the outcome he wanted, for Longtian Cui it might as well have been a loss

“The victor is…” the crowd hurriedly silenced themselves as Yao Shen spoke, “.... Longtian Cui,” his voice rang out.

The crowd immediately broke out in murmurs, as Zhengwei’s eyes flared up with confusion. He immediately gazed at Longtian, who remained locked in place as he was, his expression unchanged.

A sinking feeling enveloped him as he felt the restriction on his neck ease.

“His leg!” A sharp eyed spectator pointed out, causing the spectator’s murmurs to quell.

Zhengwei slowly tilted his neck, swilveling enough to see that…..

…. his left leg had crossed the white line.