Chapter 30 – The Semi-Finals Begin
The morning mist clung to the arena's stone pillars, swirling in pale ribbons as the disciples gathered for the long-awaited semi-finals. The air was taut with anticipation—favorites, dark horses, and hidden talents were finally converging. This was the stage where reputations would be forged or shattered.
The first match set the tone immediately—two high-ranking outer sect disciples clashing with speed and ferocity that drew roars from the crowd. Blades clanged, qi flared, and each exchange threatened to end the fight in an instant. The audience leaned forward in unison, every heartbeat echoing in the silence between strikes.
One by one, the matches followed—fiery explosions from fire arts specialists, whistling spear techniques, and thunderous palm strikes that cracked the reinforced arena tiles. Lin Xuan watched intently, gauging techniques, noting flaws, and quietly ranking his future opponents.
When his own turn came, the shift in atmosphere was almost tangible. His opponent, a rising star from the inner sect, was no stranger to acclaim. The first exchange was enough to draw gasps—Lin's calm precision dismantled flashy offense in seconds. By the fifth move, his opponent's confidence had eroded. A final, decisive strike ended the match cleanly. No wasted motion. No excess brutality. Just victory.
Up in the high pavilion, the sect leader's gaze lingered on Lin Xuan. "Danfeng," he murmured, "that boy… you've taken him as a personal disciple?"
"Yes," Danfeng replied with the faintest smile. "He's exceeded my expectations."
The sect leader's brow arched slightly. "From an alchemy specialist… to produce such a fighter. Surprising."
"It's not the cauldron that shapes the man," Danfeng said evenly. "It's the fire inside."
The sect leader's lips curved faintly, but his eyes remained sharp. Below, Elder Qiu shifted. "I must attend to something urgent," he said, inclining his head before leaving the viewing platform. The sect leader's eyes followed him for a moment, tracking his measured pace. But he made no move to intervene—at least, not yet.
The matches raged on—favorites meeting unexpected resistance, dark horses pulling off stunning reversals. Cheers and shouts filled the air as qi flares lit the arena like miniature suns.
But away from the noise, on a distant ridge beyond the sect's protective walls, a single black-feathered bird circled lazily. To any observer, it was an idle scrap of life. To those who knew… it was the signal. The demonic sect's ambush was ready to begin.