Chapter 6: 1v1 Tournament Starts

The next day...

The weather was good. The wind was calm and the sun was partially blocked by white clouds, which barely had any movement so it would be cloudy for some time.

The Gray Grass Sect was a Middle-Lower Tier sect located at the extreme east of Dim Island. Even though it was called an island, its area was over 10 million square kilometers, so it was more like a little continent. At the north of this sect was the Flaming Swamp Sect and to the west was the Flying Leaf Sect, a Middle Tier sect.

Today was the first day of the 1v1 tournament of the outer sect; there were many people gathered. If a disciple could win and become an Inner Sect Disciple, not only would they gain more status, they would also gain more cultivation resources and thereby would be able to reach the Second Realm much faster.

The place of the tournament was an open area in the middle of the sect. There were many platforms, which were formed by rectangular tiles that looked like bricks, but were dark gray in color. They were exactly 32, forming a giant rectangle with 4 platforms on one side and 8 on the other.

Each was a square with 100 square meters of size, and they were 3 meters separated from each other. The people were dispersed around those separations, talking amongst themselves.

There were spectator stands on the larger sides of the big rectangle of platforms, but few people were there. Everyone else was going to compete.

"Who will be your first victim, Brother Wang?"

"I don't know Plummy Fang, remember we rushed here and didn't check the lists."

"Whoever it is, even if it's a girl, don't be moved Brother Wang. Remember our bet."

"Don't worry Brother Fang, the only thing that can move me are my pickles."

"I respect that, Brother Wang, I respect that."

"It's been a while we're here, when are we going to fight!?"

"Calm down Junior Brother Ling, It's only been a few minutes."

On top of the platforms were people fighting. 20 minutes had already passed since the start of the matches, but a large portion of the participants had already been eliminated. However, none of the four in the group had fought yet.

The matches' duration went from 10 seconds to a couple minutes. There were many platforms, so the process was very fast.

"Look! That's Junior Brother Yang!" Plummy Fang noticed Yang Pei jumping on top of a platform.

He was getting ready to fight but heard Plummy Fang's loud voice and turned around to see, only to find the four weird boys looking in his direction.

Yi Ren had his sunglasses and cubic haircut once again, Plummy Fang was very fat, Wang Fan had a belt of vertical pickles around his waist, and Ling Zhou was looking everywhere like a paranoid.

Yang Pei awkwardly nodded and greeted from afar, before the expressions of the four changed at the same time while looking at the person in front of the former. Yang Pei noticed this and moved his gaze to the platform again, only to see a young girl with long black hair that reached her waist, a silver robe and pink eyes.

"Brother Yang is really unlucky… To think he was paired with Senior Sister Ming in the first round."

"It seems he didn't know. He must've been hiding from Stick-old-man and only came out for his match."

"Hmmm… It must've been planned beforehand. This might be Junior Brother's punishment. In any case, I heard he was also assigned to our expedition mission." Yi Ren said expressionlessly

"That must be the case Brother Yi! I also saw the crowd members of that day on the list that was sent to us yesterday. Everyone was there except Senior Sister Ming and Ling Zhou… There were also some random people."

"Why wasn't I invited!? What am I going to do at that time!?"

"Shut up brother Ling, Brother Yang's match is starting."

A couple platforms away from Ling Zhou and the rest were two people facing each other. They were Yang Pei and Ming Daiyu.

"It's a shame we meet each other so soon Junior Brother Yang, one of us will be eliminated in the first round." The pink-eyed girl said.

"Sigh… Go easy on me Senior Sister. It is truly a shame…" Yang Pei cupped his fists and got ready.

The instructor in charge of the platform signaled the start of the match.

Instantly, a sharp, thin and long sword appeared in one of Ming Daiyu's hands, completely changing her calm aura into one of destruction.

Yang Pei took out his blade. It looked plain and rusty but its true sharpness was extraordinary; given enough strength, it could even cut a cow in half.

In this case both had weapons, but that was not the norm between cultivators. They have to be proficient in many styles; not just one, because enemies would find ways to counter them.

If someone mainly cultivated sword techniques, they would also learn unarmed combat by the side; one can't completely rely on a weapon they know they can lose.

Many methods were necessary, because any could be countered.

A fist would never be as sharp and hard as a sword, a sword would never have the reach of a bow, and a bow would never have the speed of a fist…

If one couldn't adapt to a situation, they would lose. That was one of the things Gray Grass Sect taught to its disciples.

Ming Daiyu took a step forward, throwing dust behind her feet, approaching rapidly and leaving a thin line of white light behind her sword. Yang Pei's feet changed their angles, adjusting his posture to one of defense whilst his arms moved his blade, making a stance.

His eyes were fixed on the opponent, fully concentrated on defending this attack. He couldn't be careless; he was fighting against the person with the most chances to win this tournament.

Ming Daiyu reached where he was in a moment, immediately swinging her sword from the upper left to lower right in a swift movement, forcing Yang Pei to try and clash his blade with her sword, without stopping her momentum.

Just when the blades were about to clash, Ming Daiyu stomped her right foot fiercely on the ground, slightly altering her direction towards where her swing began, smoothly, as if it all was part of one full set.

Yang Pei couldn't react. His blade was already clashing with Ming Daiyu's, his eyes were watching her feet movements but she had the advantage on speed, and now his own blade was being restrained while Ming Daiyu approached from his right side swiftly.

Yang Pei had only one choice; that was to evade Ming Daiyu's next attack. It was clear that it was going to be a kick because all of their hands were busy with their clashing swords, but he wasn't confident about evading.

'Her right leg can't kick me because it's being restrained by her own sword, so the kick will come from her left one.' He thought, concentrating his senses on Ming Daiyus left leg.

But the kick he was expecting didn't arrive. Instead, Ming Daiyu rapidly moved her sword along his, restraining it as her sword got closer to his hands at the same time, before separating itself and reaching Yang Pei's neck in the blink of an eye, remaining completely still.

"Winner: Ming Daiyu!" The referee announced. As every other referee, he was an Inner Sect Disciple. There weren't enough elders to fill the 32 platforms.

"You forgot I had a sword, Junior Brother Yang." Ming Daiyu retracted her sword and sheathed it back to its black scabbard, making it disappear shortly after.

"I didn't have a chance, Senior Sister, you're too formidable." Yang Pei humbly replied as he cupped his fists, bowing slightly.

"It was just a little trick, nothing much. If you kept the pressure on your sword, the fight would've lasted much more." Ming Daiyu said modestly.

"Thank you for your teaching." Yang Pei bowed again, before leaving the platform rapidly and disappearing from sight. He went hiding again.

Back with Plummy Fang and the rest, they were chatting quietly.

"Sigh. It's a shame that Junior Brother Yang only lasted 3 seconds. We couldn't even see Senior Sister's true abilities…"

"Junior Brother made a rookie mistake. It's a pity, truly a pity."

"It must've been the pressure Brother Yi. It is hard to fight against someone 4 stages above you."

"It's a shame he didn't have a Pickle Armor. He wouldn't feel pressure then."

"At last! It's my turn at last! Where is it!? Where's platform 17!?"

While the crowd was still lamenting Yang Pei's rapid defeat, a flat and rectangular piece of metal in Ling Zhou's grasp started emitting a pale light, revealing a number on its surface.

"It's right behind us. Good luck Junior Brother Ling."

"Good luck."

"Yes."

Ling Zhou immediately climbed the platform and started waiting for his opponent to appear, moving from one side of the platform to the other.

A little man with fat arms arrived, showing an amicable grin.

"Hello friend, my name is Tai Tu. Nice to meet you."

"Shut up little man! Let's Fight!"