Lu Zhenhai's voice thundered across the arena, sharp and commanding, leaving no room for argument.
"These are the rules of the competition. Each of you will receive a token with your name and number—when your number is called, step into the arena immediately. Secondly, the use of deadly poison is strictly forbidden. If you kill your opponent, you will be disqualified on the spot. Thirdly, no pills of any kind are to be consumed before or during your match. If you think you can cheat, don't bother—we will know. And lastly, those who disregard these rules will face punishment."
His gaze swept across the gathered cultivators, making sure his words struck deep.
"Only the top ten will be admitted into the Stone Path Hall. Those who prove themselves worthy will also be rewarded accordingly."
Raising a hand, he gestured toward an instructor holding a wooden tablet, upon which the prizes were inscribed.
10th Place: 100 gold coins, low-tier healing pills, low-tier Qi restoration pills.
9th Place: 200 gold coins, low-tier healing pills, low-tier Qi restoration pills.
8th Place: 300 gold coins, low-tier healing pills, low-tier Qi restoration pills.
7th Place: 400 gold coins, low-tier healing pills, low-tier Qi restoration pills.
6th Place: 500 gold coins, low-tier healing pills, low-tier Qi restoration pills.
5th Place: 600 gold coins, low-tier healing pills, low-tier Qi restoration pills, choice of a low-tier Rank 1 battle skill.
4th Place: 700 gold coins, low-tier healing pills, low-tier Qi restoration pills, choice of a low-tier Rank 1 battle skill.
3rd Place: 800 gold coins, mid-tier healing pills, mid-tier Qi restoration pills, choice of a low-tier Rank 1 battle skill, low-tier tempered weapon.
2nd Place: 900 gold coins, mid-tier healing pills, mid-tier Qi restoration pills, choice of a low-tier Rank 1 battle skill, mid-tier tempered weapon.
1st Place: 1,000 gold coins, mid-tier healing pills, mid-tier Qi restoration pills, choice of a mid-tier Rank 1 battle skill, mid-tier tempered weapon, and one low-tier Crimson Flow Pill.
After a brief pause to let the weight of his words settle, Lu Zhenhai continued. "Now, report to the instructors below to receive your tokens."
Lin Shu stepped forward when his turn arrived, approaching the instructors with an indifferent expression. He stated his name, and in return, they handed him a small wooden token. Carved onto its surface were the words Lin Shu and the number 18 below.
Without a word, he moved away, positioning himself at a spot where he could observe the fights closely. Every movement, every technique, and every misstep—he memorized them all. Knowing his future opponents' skills and specialties would give him an undeniable advantage.
As he watched, however, a thought nagged at him. "Why are people from clans participating in this competition? Why would they need to join a martial institute?"
To him, it made little sense. A clan had its own resources, its own techniques—why seek admission here? Were their clans allowing them to do this?
"Perhaps they're here just to steal the battle skills and take them back to their clans. But if that were the case, wouldn't the institute become useless over time? No, they must have precautions in place… Something to prevent their techniques from being passed around freely."
He didn't have an answer yet, but it didn't matter. What mattered was that he was here to win.
Lin Shu's turn came, and he was up against a boy named Mo Han. The boy was around twelve years old, roughly the same height as Lin Shu, and wielded a spear. His posture and grip seemed unsteady, his stance lacking the seasoned experience of a true fighter. He looked like someone who had only sparred in a controlled environment, never facing true life-and-death combat. A perfect opponent for Lin Shu.
An instructor reminded them of the rules before signaling for the fight to begin.
Blue lightning flickered around Lin Shu as he activated Lightning Steps, his speed increasing greatly. His muscles tensed, power surging through his limbs as the bonus effect of Ivory Dominion took effect. While Ivory Dominion wasn't a body refinement technique, it granted him a passive enhancement similar to a low-tier Rank 1 body refinement technique, reinforcing his strength and endurance beyond an ordinary cultivator at his level. To avoid revealing his true abilities too soon, he began forming armor beneath his clothes, keeping his techniques hidden for now. He planned to rely on his increased speed and body refinement-enhanced strength to quickly finish the fight.
Mo Han's eyes widened at the sudden attack—his opponent didn't even introduce himself or offer a standard greeting. "What the hell is wrong with this guy?" the boy thought. In a panic, he immediately activated his battle skill, his spear thrusting forward with great speed. But for Lin Shu, it wasn't fast enough. Even with Lightning Steps at only half its full potential, his reflexes and footwork were already superior.
Mo Han was clumsy. His technique had gaps, his reactions were slow, and every time Lin Shu targeted a weak spot—his eyes, neck, or joints—the boy became flustered, barely able to block or counter.
Lin Shu briefly considered if this was a bluff, a trick to lower his guard. "How can someone from a clan be this unskilled? Has he never actually fought before?"
The answer came quickly.
Lin Shu's fist slammed into Mo Han's stomach. The boy's eyes bulged, his body convulsing as all the air was knocked from his lungs. Without hesitation, Lin Shu grabbed him by the neck and lifted him before slamming him into the ground. He held back just enough strength to avoid killing him.
The instructor stepped forward, confirming the result. Lin Shu had won his first round.
The onlookers—whether they were students of the institute or members of the audience who had been allowed to watch—reacted with immediate disapproval.
"Hey, that little bastard didn't even greet his opponent! He just attacked him outright! Shouldn't that be against the rules?" someone in the crowd shouted.
Another older cultivator scoffed, his voice carrying a tone of impatience. "It's not against the rules. The moment the instructor gives the signal, the fight begins. That so-called greeting is nothing more than an act of politeness—there's no rule enforcing it."
"But that's just too low," a younger cultivator grumbled, clearly uncomfortable with what he had just witnessed.
The older man let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "These kids… They don't understand how the real world works. Every new batch of cultivators seems to grow even more naïve with each passing year." His gaze swept over the self-righteous murmuring crowd, eyes filled with contempt.
"Do they really expect an enemy to greet them before a fight? That kind of thinking will get them killed. The only time you exchange pleasantries is when your opponent is someone you don't want to offend—not when he's a nobody just like you." His voice lowered as he spoke more to himself than to those around him.
"These clans keep pushing this righteous nonsense too much nowadays. But I suppose there's a benefit to keeping the younger generation ignorant—it makes them easier to use. It's far simpler to control a fool than a scholar. And besides…" He cast a long glance at the proud, well-groomed youths surrounding him. "Most of these brats have never set foot outside their clans. They're the children of elders and patriarchs, coddled and kept safe. If they ever truly saw what life was like beyond the gates of their sects and family estates… they might end up more ruthless than that boy."
The old man sighed, his weathered face unreadable as he watched the scene before him. He had seen too much of the world to be fooled by youthful arrogance and naive ideals. Once, he had been just like them—full of blind trust in his clan, believing in honor and righteousness. But life had taught him a harsh lesson.
Just like Tan Bo, he had once clung to the belief that his family would always stand by him. That his elders would support him simply because they shared the same blood. But when his talent proved mediocre, the truth became painfully clear—his clan had no use for him. They discarded him without a second thought, unwilling to waste their resources on someone who would never rise above mediocrity.
Unlike Tan Bo, however, he had lived long enough to understand this truth. He had no wealthy benefactor, no master who saw hidden potential in him. He had been nothing more than an ordinary cultivator, struggling to survive in a world where only the strong were valued. But he had learned to endure, to adapt. He had carved out a life for himself, even without the support of a clan.
Tan Bo hadn't been so lucky. He had realized the truth too late—just a few months before his head was separated from his body by Lin Shu's merciless hands.
The old man exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "Fools," he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with both pity and disdain as he watched the young cultivators around him chatter about honor and fairness. "They don't understand yet. But they will in the future."