Chapter Nineteen: Charging Into the Inner Sect

Shi Feichen stared dumbfounded at the arena.

One man, one sword, standing proud and solitary.

So this is the Gold Medal Enforcer?

His face was still blank with confusion.

Just by standing below the stage, without fighting a single match, could he already qualify for the main sect?

He had never imagined such a thing.

In Wang Gaofei’s eyes, his emotions were unreadable, somewhere between joy and anger.

Which mattered more: one inner disciple or three outer disciples?

For the moment, he couldn’t decide.

“You really are ruthless, boy!” a cold voice rang out. “What are you still doing up there? There are only sixteen left, there’s no need for further matches!”

Upon hearing this, Su Yizhao’s body swayed slightly, as if his profound energy was nearly depleted.

Yet he did not leave the stage.

He slowly raised his right hand and pointed toward the crowd below.

“What is he doing now?”

“Again? Could it be...?”

The onlookers’ gazes grew ever more complicated.

Not a single disciple from the seven cities around Lisha City remained. At this moment, the seven city lords glared at him with venomous eyes.

“He actually wants to enter the inner sect!”

Su Yizhao’s index finger pointed decisively.

His target: the red-robed cultivators of Pingsha City.

In an instant, the five crimson-robed disciples’ faces flushed with anger.

Especially Liu Yu, whose delicate face was now tinged with embarrassment.

A moment ago, she had spoken of sparing him—and now he was challenging her from a position of superiority.

Worse, she truly felt no confidence in her heart.

His Sword Command Technique had reached perfection; both its speed and power were on par with a flying sword wielded by a fourth-profound realm cultivator.

With the assistance of those perfected low-level spells, defeating him would be exceedingly difficult.

Still, retreating in the face of adversity was not the way of a cultivator, nor was it the way of Liu Yu.

Sweeping her gaze over her four senior brothers, who only furrowed their brows yet made no move to ascend the stage, she took a deep breath and leapt lightly up.

Su Yizhao looked at the graceful Liu Yu standing five zhang away and smiled, “Fellow Daoist, you spared me before. Now, shall I spare you in return?”

Liu Yu’s fair cheeks reddened further as she snapped, “Before—before—hmph! You stray from the path and don’t even realize it. Once I master the fourth-grade Flying Sword Technique, what will you amount to then?”

Su Yizhao nodded slightly, a tinge of regret in his voice, “A pity you haven’t mastered it yet.”

“You! With fourth-profound realm cultivation, I’d exhaust your profound energy easily!”

Su Yizhao fully agreed, provided, of course, that he truly was only at the mid-third-profound realm.

He replied seriously, “That’s true. So when I say I’ll spare you, I mean I don’t wish to fight you to the bitter end—lest I ruin your face.”

As he spoke, his gaze traveled up and down her crimson robes and alabaster skin.

If those robes were torn and her pretty face marred, it would hardly be dignified.

“Enough talk! Face my sword!”

A whoosh.

A flurry of ringing clashes.

Liu Yu erupted, summoning her flying sword, a streak of red light shooting forth.

A fleeting white glow flashed between Su Yizhao’s fingers, and when it reappeared, it pointed unerringly at the red light.

With a series of sharp clangs, the red light dispersed, the crimson flying sword trembling in midair, its offensive momentum lost.

But a fourth-profound realm cultivator was no easy foe.

Liu Yu called out softly, her left hand summoning a square-shaped red brocade cloth that floated before her.

“A defensive artifact?” Su Yizhao murmured.

Artifacts were difficult to acquire, but an ordinary flying sword was common enough.

Defensive artifacts, however, were rare.

He himself had once spent over a thousand spirit stones on such a treasure to save his life, but after several duels, it had been destroyed.

Now, the brocade cloth before Liu Yu had expanded to four or five feet in width.

“Deploy!” she cried.

With a sharp whistle, the brocade shielded her vital points as the crimson sword shot forward.

She truly intended to exhaust his profound energy.

Su Yizhao’s hands moved swiftly, white light flickering, while crystalline ice spikes shot from his left hand.

A series of sharp clangs; the red light scattered.

The ice spikes, blocked by the brocade cloth, landed with soft thuds.

The two exchanged offense and defense in a fierce contest.

The audience below grew ever more astonished, holding their breath.

The clatter of clashing swords rang in their ears; ice spikes and fireballs rained upon Liu Yu.

Though the brocade was agile, the sheer number of perfected ice spikes and fireballs was overwhelming—some were bound to get through.

Even the few shards of ice and flames that landed on her robes left her alternately chilled and scorched, rendering her disheveled.

Fury burned in Liu Yu’s eyes as she watched Su Yizhao’s face grow steadily paler, yet she unleashed her profound power with all her strength, determined to exhaust him completely.

A cup of tea’s time passed, the duel growing ever more perilous.

Suddenly, Su Yizhao’s steps faltered—he seemed about to collapse.

Liu Yu rejoiced, and with a surge of power from her dantian, her crimson sword shot forward with a whistle.

This time, the white light seemed powerless, failing to intercept in time.

The whistle of the red light slicing through the air was almost pleasant.

“It’s over?”

“A mid-third-profound realm cultivator—how much profound energy could he possibly have? He’s done well to last this long!”

The crowd finally let out their held breaths.

In the blink of an eye, the red light pierced Su Yizhao’s throat.

And yet, no blood appeared. Instead, his entire form began to fade away.

“What?” Liu Yu exclaimed in shock.

“Behind you!” someone shouted from below, but it was too late.

With a muffled thud, Liu Yu felt a tremendous force strike her back, sending her flying off the stage.

“Perfected Leaping Technique?” The cold voice was no longer cold. “Boy, just how much time have you spent perfecting these low-level spells?”

As Liu Yu flew from the stage, a series of afterimages converged into one—Su Yizhao revealed himself.

He staggered onto the stage, face pale, looking down.

Liu Yu’s once-elegant robes were now tattered.

Though her white skin wasn’t exposed, her fury was fierce.

But she understood: had he used his full strength in that final blow, it might not have been fatal, but she would have been gravely injured—not merely coughing up a mouthful of blood as she was now.

“I—I’ll remember you...!”

Su Yizhao’s face grew still paler; his act had reached its limits.

Were it not for the Grand Elder’s threat, killing would have been effortless.

Slowly, he raised his right hand, pointing once more toward Pingsha City.

The four remaining disciples shook their heads slightly, making no move to enter the stage.

Not worth the risk.

Since they were already in the inner sect, why fight for temporary pride?

Once they joined the inner sect and mastered the fourth-grade Flying Sword Technique, his perfected low-grade spells would count for little.

“All concede? Very well. Su Yizhao of Lisha City—thirty consecutive victories!”

“And me!” Shi Feichen laughed, leaping onto the stage.

He cupped his hands to Su Yizhao, “Junior Su, the Gold Medal Enforcer—truly worthy of the name! I concede!”

“Su Yizhao of Lisha City—thirty straight victories! He enters the inner sect. The competition is concluded! Come with me!”