Ishin stabbed his spear at Cao Jie’s right shoulder. His opponent was already wrong-footed from a previous feint, and now Ishin was going to capitalize on the opening.

  “Aaaaah!” Cao Jie screamed as the spear pierced cleanly through his shoulder, blood splattering across the arena floor.

  The sickle fell from Cao Jie’s numb hand as his arm went limp. Without hesitation, Ishin kicked him in the chest, forcing him off the spear. Another surge of blood spurted from the wound.

  “Yield?” Ishin asked evenly, spear lowered but ready.

  Elder Song had announced that victory in the individual matches could be claimed in one of three ways: rendering your opponent unable to continue, knocking them off the stage, or forcing them to surrender.

  “Never!” Cao Jie growled. Clutching his remaining sickle, he charged at Ishin, rage and pain burning in his eyes, blinding his judgment.

  Ishin sidestepped the sloppy attack and ran his spear through Cao Jie’s exposed stomach.

  “Blaaa!” Blood sprayed from Cao Jie’s mouth as the spear drove deep. Ishin pushed it further in with grim precision.

  “You should have surrendered.” The match had been one-sided from the start, despite both of them being at the third layer of the Initial Realm.

  Ishin twisted, pushing Cao Jie aside before sliding his spear free in a single, practiced motion. Cao Jie collapsed to the ground, gasping raggedly, one hand pressed futilely against the gaping wound in his gut.

  A crimson line of blood dribbled from his lips. “I... surrender,” he rasped, voice shaking. The last sickle clattered to the floor. “Healer,” he croaked before falling onto his side.

  “Ro Ishin of the Eight Oaths Resolve School is the winner!” Elder Song’s voice rang out clearly across the Golden Arena.

  Applause filled the space, but Ishin paid little mind to it. He was already thinking about the sect representatives watching. Surely, as one-sided as this match was, they wouldn’t be impressed.

  He turned and left the Golden Arena through a side exit as Righteous Mantle Sect servants hurried onto the stage to carry Cao Jie away for treatment. Elder Song was announcing the next match, but Ishin ignored it, climbing the interior steps that led to the Eight Oaths Resolve School’s private balcony.

  Inside, he found Rhee, Lei, and an older master he didn’t recognize waiting.

  “Well done,” Rhee said, giving him an approving nod. She gestured to an empty seat beside her—it looked like Bo’s spot.

  “Thank you,” Ishin replied, settling into the chair.

  “That didn’t seem challenging at all,” Lei remarked from the railing, peering down at the arena. “I hope Bo’s match is more entertaining.”

  “None of these early matches should be very hard,” Rhee pointed out. “The real challenge won’t come until the next round, when the martial schools face each other.”

  Still, I thought it would be a little harder.

  Ishin’s fight had lasted less than three minutes. Cao Jie had been competent, but nowhere near the level of his own teammates. After weeks of sparring with them, this fight had felt disappointingly easy.

  Rhee’s match earlier that morning had been even shorter. She had ensnared her opponent almost immediately, battering them from a safe distance until they yielded in under a minute.

  Ishin glanced down at the current fight below. One competitor wielded a lance while the other tried launching crude darkness techniques from a distance.

  His techniques can’t even compare to Rhee’s.

  “But Bo’s fighting that cultivator who beat the Three Blessed Petals disciple,” Lei pointed out with a grin. “That should make it interesting.”

  “Possibly,” Rhee said thoughtfully. Below them, the fight was ending as the lance-wielder drove his weapon clean through his opponent’s leg.

  “But Tan Fei is just a wandering cultivator,” she added. She looked at the older master beside them. “What do you think?”

  The master, dignified in her blue and orange robes, considered carefully. “Disciple Wan Bo will likely win. Tan Fei is only at the third layer of the Initial Realm.”

  Ishin sat up straighter, paying closer attention.

  “He cultivates earth qi,” the master continued. “Disciple Wan Bo’s shields combined with his metal techniques should prove a strong counter.”

  “Pa Fo of the Sand Fang School is the winner!” Elder Song called out.

  The lance-wielder stood tall, lifting his weapon high as the crowd applauded.

  “He’s next,” Lei said eagerly, pounding the balcony railing.

  “And you’re after him,” Rhee reminded calmly. “Head down so you don’t risk being late.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “But I can see everything from up here!” Lei protested.

  Ishin offered helpfully, “You’ll have a better view from the floor.”

  “True!” Lei brightened, standing quickly. “I’m off then!”

  “Thanks for your help,” Rhee added to Ishin as Lei hurried away.

  “No thanks needed,” Ishin said.

  “For the 51st match,” Elder Song announced, “Wan Bo of the Eight Oaths Resolve School versus Tan Fei of the Howling Woods Team!”

  A polite ripple of applause filled the arena as the two competitors strode onto the stage.

  “He looks confident,” Ishin observed. Below, Bo was calm and imposing, his distinctive metal shields strapped securely to his arms. Across from him, Tan Fei hefted his warhammer in both hands, his beige robes fluttering with every step.

  “Bo has good reason to be,” Rhee said, folding her hands. “Last year he almost made the quarterfinals. If he loses before then this time, he’ll never forgive himself.”

  But he’ll have to fight Lei in the fourth round. That truth weighed on Ishin. Lei wanted to be champion more than anything. Would Bo choose his friend’s dream over his own advancement?

  “Combatants,” Elder Song called out, voice booming. “Prepare yourselves.”

  Tan Fei tightened his grip on the warhammer, feet planted solidly. Bo lifted his shields into a ready stance.

  “Begin!”

  Tan Fei exploded forward with surprising speed for his size. He swung the massive hammer down in a brutal arc.

  A resounding clang echoed through the arena as Bo caught the blow on his crossed shields. He grunted, legs bracing against the stage as he bent slightly under the force.

  He must be using qi. No way Bo would get forced back otherwise.

  With a fierce shout, Bo shoved the hammer away, forcing Tan Fei off balance.

  Iron Temple. Ishin recognized the technique. He’d never seen Bo use his famed body enhancement skill before. Seeing it now, Ishin was genuinely impressed.

  Bo lunged forward without hesitation, fingers extended like spears. Tan Fei’s hammer was too slow to recover. Bo’s strikes landed cleanly—one in the abdomen, the other in the left lung.

  Tan Fei stumbled back, gasping raggedly, his hammer falling from nerveless fingers.

  With a last desperate effort, he swung at Bo with a fist, who caught it cleanly on his shield and was only pushed back slightly.

  Tan Fei dropped to one knee. Bo leaned in, clearly speaking quietly.

  “Bo’s probably asking if he wants to surrender,” Rhee observed softly. “He’s never one to finish off a defeated opponent if he can avoid it.”

  Ishin thought back to the sun tiger. To Qu Yan. Sometimes you don’t have that luxury. He realized Bo had only ever fought in formal duels—never in life-or-death struggles.

  Finally, Tan Fei's head fell forward in resignation.

  “The winner is Wan Bo of the Eight Oaths Resolve School!” Elder Song proclaimed.

  The crowd roared in approval. Bo bowed to his beaten opponent with quiet dignity. Rhee applauded politely, and Ishin followed her example, though inside he cheered fiercely for his friend’s victory.

  * * *

  Hou Lei roared in celebration from the arena floor.

  He’d always known Bo would win—but seeing it happen so decisively sent a thrill of excitement through him.

  I can’t wait to fight him in the fourth round!

  He knew he’d win his match. Bo would win his. And they’d finally clash before tens of thousands in the stands. The thought made him shiver with anticipation.

  As Bo stepped off the stage, Lei was already grinning wide. Bo caught his eye and cracked a rare feint smile.

  Lei burst into laughter at the sight. His friend was always so reserved.

  “What’s so funny?” Bo asked, arching an eyebrow.

  “Just you, Senior Brother,” Lei replied, eyes sparkling.

  Bo rolled his eyes. “Are you ready for your fight?”

  Lei flexed, his thick arms bulging even under his loose robes. “I was born ready.”

  Bo frowned seriously. “Try not to kill him.”

  Lei blinked, head tilting in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “It would look bad if the Eight Oaths Resolve School killed their opponents,” Bo said plainly. “It shows a lack of control. It would be dishonorable.”

  “Of course!” Lei sounded wounded. “I would never—”

  Bo cut him off with a steady look. “I’m serious, Lei. This isn’t the Dueling Pits where you can kill Western Quarter trash and no one will care. It’s the Exhibition Tournament. Many of these people are scions of respected clans. Promise me.”

  Lei’s grin faded. He straightened, meeting Bo’s eyes seriously. “I promise you, on my martial spirit—I won’t kill my opponents in this tournament.”

  Bo studied him for a long moment before nodding. “Thank you.”

  “For our next match,” Elder Song’s voice rang out across the arena, “we have Hou Lei of the Eight Oaths Resolve School versus Wu Shuang of the Sublime Heavenly Saint School!”

  Lei whooped and bounded onto the stage, waving shamelessly at the roaring crowd.

  This is what being a martial artist is all about. The battle. The cheers. The glory.

  His opponent was a lean, sharply dressed man in blue, yellow, and white robes, holding a naginata with graceful precision.

  That’ll have good reach. Even longer than Ishin’s spear. Lei’s grin widened. Let’s see if I can get past it without being skewered.

  He bounced on his feet, muscles coiled. He had one tactic he trusted—and he wasn’t about to change it now.

  “Begin,” Elder Song called.

  Lei cycled blood qi into his favorite technique, the Red Flow Current. With explosive force, he blurred forward.

  Wu Shuang’s eyes went wide in panic as Lei slammed his iron knuckles into his gut. The man was launched backward, crashing to the ground and rolling in the dust.

  Lei stood tall, arms folded. He didn’t bother chasing. He’d promised Bo—he wouldn’t kill. He’d only used enough qi to knock him down.

  Most cultivators hated having bulky muscles, considering them crude and unattractive. Lei had no such vanity. He knew exactly what they gave him: brutal, unstoppable power. Wu Shuang had just learned that lesson.

  Wu Shuang staggered to his feet, defiance burning in his eyes.

  At least he has spirit. Lei smiled wide.

  He darted forward again. The second blow ended it. Wu Shuang collapsed in a limp heap at Lei’s feet.

  “Winner,” Elder Song proclaimed, voice steady despite the wild cheers, “Hou Lei of the Eight Oaths Resolve School.”