The air was thick with anticipation as cultivators from various corners of the region gathered for the official opening of the Grand Martial Arts Tournament. Today, the dreams of many would take their first step toward becoming reality or be extinguished.
Mo Yanluo advanced his group through the bustling streets toward the grand pavilion at the heart of the village. His disciples, still haunted from the previous day's interaction, walked with a mix of excitement and nervousness and as they neared the pavilion, the crowd grew larger and denser.
Mo Yanluo's sharp eyes scanned the surrounding faces, noting the arrival of rival sects and possible allies. He had prepared his disciples for this moment, but the real test was about to begin. The grand pavilion loomed before them, it stood tall and proudly in the central plaza.
A long line of cultivators snaked from the entrance, each eager to register for the tournament. Mo Yanluo guided his group to the end of the line, his voice calm and steady.
"Today, you will register and prove your worth in the qualifying rounds. Only those who pass will advance to the main tournament tomorrow."
Ming Yue, nodded, "We won't let you down, Master."
Yan Ling cracked her knuckles, her fiery spirit raging, "I'll show them what the Heavenly Demonic Sect is made of!"
Xue Lan, smiled softly, "I'll do my best."
Xiao Fengwu, inclined her head, "I am ready."
Only these four would compete—Qing Mei and Ying Tao, though eager, were too young and inexperienced for the grueling matches ahead. Mo Yanluo had previously made his decision clear, and he would not risk their safety.
As the line moved forward, Mo Yanluo's company began attracting more and more attention and unwanted gazes, as whispers and murmurs filled the surrounding air. Some in surprise, reverence and fear, while others were laced with malice and hostility.
Suddenly, a group of cultivators in flowing green robes walked past them, their leader a tall, elegant woman with round emerald eyes. She carried herself with the grace of a seasoned warrior, her long hair tied back with an emerald ribbon. This was Bai Lianxian, the leader of the Jade Lotus Sect. Known for her cruel and vicious nature despite her beauty.
Beside her stood a tall and burly man with a shaved head and a scar running down his cheek—Bai Feng, the leader of the Iron Fist Sect. Famed for his brute strength and inhuman endurance.
At last, the group reached the registration table. A stern-faced elder in the robes of the Orthodox Sect sat behind a desk, his brush poised over a scroll.
"Name and sect," he questioned.
One by one, the disciples stepped forward.
"Ming Yue, Heavenly Demonic Sect."
"Xue Lan, Heavenly Demonic Sect."
"Yan Ling, Heavenly Demonic Sect."
"Xiao Fengwu, Heavenly Demonic Sect."
The elder's eyes widened for a brief moment before he continued to jot down each name, then handed them their tokens—small wooden plaques inscribed with their numbers.
The qualifying matches would begin immediately, with each participant assigned to a different arena.
Mo Yanluo gathered his disciples for a final word, "Remember what I had thought you. Trust yourselves. And no matter what happens, victory or defeat, know that you have already made me proud."
The disciples bowed, their hearts full of determination. Then, they set off for their respective arenas while the rest sat in the spectator stands.
—
Ming Yue entered a circular arena of packed earth, surrounded by a ring of spectators. Her opponent was a disciple from the Iron Fist Sect—he was towering and muscular, with his hands wrapped in thick bandages. He smirked, confident in his strength. On the other hand, Ming Yue used a sword forged from star metal, one of the most durable but lightweight materials, together with the Serene Moonlight Sword Arts.
The referee raised his hand, "Begin!"
As soon as the match commenced, Ming Yue rushed towards her opponent, her sword drawn. Her opponent launched a series of swift punches, each imbued with the power to shatter a small boulder. However, she effortlessly dodged the incoming attacks, and circled behind him, driving the pommel of her sword into his back.
He immediately dropped onto his knees, as a loud, pained moan escaped his lips. Before he could retaliate, Ming Yue's sword was already hovering next to his neck.
"Yield," she said calmly.
Her opponent, panting, nodded in defeat, his previous arrogance nowhere to be seen. The crowd erupted into applause as she politely bowed and exited the arena.
—
Xue Lan stood in a smaller arena, her opponent a lithe woman from the Whispering Wind Sect. Like Ming Yue, Xue Lan also used a sword but instead of star metal, it was molded from frost steel, a less durable but sharper material.
The woman moved like a gale on top of a mountain—her movements quick and unpredictable. Her presence melting and becoming one with the wind.
But Xue Lan's misty eyes saw through the deception. She calmly dodged each strike, and waited for an opening.
When the woman lunged, Xue Lan countered with a single precise thrust, that caught her opponent by surprise. With a loud metallic clang, her opponent's weapon fell to the floor, signalling Ming Yue's victory.
"You are skilled, I have lost," the woman admitted, bowing in respect.
Xue Lan smiled and returned the gesture, "Thank you. It was a good match."
—
Yan Ling's arena was alive with the roar of the crowd. Her opponent, a hulking man from the Unorthodox Sect. He laughed, waving his massive axe in the air. Unlike the rest of her sisters, Yan Ling did not use a weapon but utilized her body as a weapon.
"This will be quick, little girl."
Yan Ling grinned, her hands rolled into fists, "We'll see about that."
The referee signaled the start, and the axe immediately flew towards Yan Ling's head. She dodged bby ducking the blow, her movements a blur of fire and fury as she retaliated with her fists, each strike landing with precision. The giant blocked with his axe, and staggered backwards, his confidence visibly shaken.
But not to be outdone by a little girl, he began swinging his axe wildly like a rampaging bull. However, it was all futile and with a final, powerful kick, she sent him flying into the noisy spectators, his weapon shattering from the strike.
The crowd roared in approval as Yan Ling raised her hand in triumph.
—
Xiao Fengwu entered the largest arena, her presence drawing attention. Her opponent was a veteran from the Jade Lotus Sect, a man known for his absolute defense.
The match began, and Xiao Fengwu moved like a storm. Her sword flashed, her strikes precise and relentless. Her opponent blocked and countered, but he was no match for the Azure Blade. His defense crumbled under the relentless assault and with a series of elegant maneuvers, she disarmed him and pressed the tip of her blade to his throat.
"It's my victory," she said, her voice calm.
The veteran bowed, his respect clear. "You are as skilled as the legends say, Azure Blade."
Xiao Fengwu sheathed her sword and bowed in return. "Thank you. You fought well."
—
Eventually, the qualifying rounds came to a close. Ming Yue, Xue Lan, Yan Ling, and Xiao Fengwu returned to Mo Yanluo, their tokens glowing with the mark of qualification. They had all earned their place in the main tournament, which would begin the following day.
Mo Yanluo smiled, his pride overflowing, "You have done well. The real challenge begins tomorrow. But for now, let's celebrate with a feast."
The sun had long dipped below the horizon, but Verdant Peak Village was far from silent. Lanterns swayed gently in the evening breeze, casting pools of warm, golden light along the cobbled streets. The air was fragrant with blooming jasmine and the rich aroma of roasting meats and simmering broths. The village was alive with laughter, music, and the clatter of cups and plates—a perfect backdrop for celebration.
Inside the cozy Lotus Pavilion Inn, Mo Yanluo had reserved the largest private room. The long table was laden with a sumptuous spread: fragrant bowls of jasmine rice, glistening platters of honey-glazed roast duck, tender braised pork belly, fragrant stir-fried vegetables, delicate dumplings bursting with savory fillings, plates of steamed fish and sweet lotus seed pastries to finish. Bowls of fragrant herbal soup steamed gently, while pitchers of fine wine and fragrant jasmine tea waited to be poured.
Mo Yanluo stood at the head of the table, his expression calm but his eyes shining with pride. His disciples gathered eagerly, their faces flushed with excitement and accomplishment.
Mo Yanluo's voice rang clear and steady, cutting through the hum of conversation, "Tonight, we celebrate your victories in the qualifying rounds. You have proven your skill, your spirit, and your resolve. This feast is for you—all of you."
The disciples exchanged glances, their hearts swelling with gratitude. Qing Mei, though not a competitor this time, clapped her hands with delight, while Ying Tao's eyes shone brightly as she eagerly accepted a plate of sweet rice cakes.
Mo Yanluo lifted a cup of wine, "To Ming Yue, Xue Lan, Yan Ling, and Xiao Fengwu—your strength honors the Heavenly Demonic Sect. May tomorrow's battles bring you glory and wisdom."
The disciples raised their cups in unison, their voices ringing out in a chorus of "To victory!"
The feast was alive with laughter and stories. Ming Yue recounted her match with measured pride, describing how she had outmaneuvered her opponent with calm precision. Yan Ling boasted playfully about her fiery spirit and the thrill of facing a much larger adversary. Xue Lan shared quiet reflections on the importance of patience and observation in battle, while Xiao Fengwu's tales of distant lands and fierce duels captivated the group, her voice weaving a spell of fascination.
Qing Mei, unable to resist, challenged Yan Ling to a mock sparring match after the meal, their playful banter filling the room with warmth. Ying Tao shyly offered small gifts she had purchased during the day, her innocence a gentle balm to the hardened warriors.
As the feast drew to a close, Mo Yanluo stood once more, his voice softer but no less commanding.
"Remember, a true warrior's strength is not only in the blade, but in the heart and mind. Rest well tonight. Tomorrow, the Grand Martial Arts Tournament will truly begin."
He turned to each disciple in turn, placing a hand on their shoulder. "You have made me proud. I believe in each of you."
The disciples bowed deeply, their gratitude and trust deepening.
Later, as the lanterns outside flickered in the gentle night breeze, the group retired to their rooms. The warmth of the feast and the bonds forged that evening settled deep in their hearts. Mo Yanluo lingered a moment in the doorway, watching his disciples—strong, hopeful, and ready.
The path ahead was uncertain, fraught with danger and intrigue. But tonight, beneath the glow of lanterns and the embrace of family, they had found strength. And that strength would carry them through whatever trials awaited.