137: Draw

The eleventh day of the ninth month, at the break of dawn.

After the screenings from the literary and Martial Examinations over the previous two days, only a hundred candidates remained out of more than six hundred, earning the qualification to enter the final practical combat competition.

In the center of the County Drill Ground, a hard-packed earth arena about three feet high and twenty zhang in diameter had already been constructed.

The arena was built on a bluestone foundation with a surface of rammed earth, sprinkled with fine sand to prevent slipping. Eighteen profound black flags were planted around the perimeter, their surfaces embroidered with the spear emblem of Army Breaker Manor, fluttering loudly in the morning breeze.

On the viewing platform, the dignitaries were already seated.

The County Magistrate sat in the center. To his left were Ling Feng, the Deputy Commander of the Po Jun Mansion, Tie Hanshan, and the supervising Eunuch Cao; to the right were the heads of the Three Great Families and the masters of various martial arts halls.

Today's atmosphere was even more solemn and murderous than the previous two days. Everyone's gaze was focused on that arena—the true battle between dragons and tigers was about to begin.

The hundred candidates lined up on the east side of the arena.

Chen Linsheng stood in the middle of the queue, his dark cyan martial attire spotless, his expression calm.

After last night's thorough relaxation in the river, his spirit, energy, and essence were all at their Peak state.

The gap in the threshold of the Jiaojin Realm was still clear, but he was in no hurry to make a Breakthrough—in actual combat, letting things take their natural course was the best strategy.

As for those feathers of the "Crimson Flame Great Peng" at the bottom of the river... Chen Linsheng's eyes lowered slightly, burying that trace of curiosity and vigilance deep in his heart.

The most important thing right now was the Martial Examination and the practical combat competition. Any external objects or distracting thoughts had to be temporarily set aside.

“Silence!”

The chief examiner, Judge Li, stepped onto the stage, his voice like iron striking stone, echoing throughout the field.

“The final round of the Martial Examination, the practical combat competition, begins now!”

Inside and outside the Drill Ground, thousands of spectators held their breath in anticipation.

“A hundred-person free-for-all would be too chaotic and unfair. Therefore, this year's Martial Examination practical combat will adopt a single-elimination system.” Judge Li's gaze swept over the hundred candidates. “The hundred of you will draw lots to determine your opponents. You will face off in pairs; the winner advances, and the loser is eliminated. This will continue until the final top ten are decided, after which a ranking battle will be held.”

He paused and added with emphasis, “The arena matches are meant to be 'stop when the point is made'. Anyone who intentionally maims or kills will be disqualified on the spot and severely punished according to the law! Each person still has a 'Life Talisman' tied to their waist. If you encounter a fatal attack and the Life Talisman shatters, you will be judged the loser and must stop immediately. Is that understood?”

“Understood!” a hundred people shouted in unison, their voices rising like a tide.

“Good! Now—draw lots!”

Two officials carried up a bronze lot cylinder half the height of a man, filled with fifty pairs of bamboo slips, each pair carved with the same number.

The candidates stepped forward one by one to draw.

Chen Linsheng reached into the cylinder, his fingertips touching the cold bamboo slips, and randomly pulled one out.

Turning it over, he saw a vermilion number carved on the slip—Seven.

“group c, Number Seven,” the proctor recorded.

Not far away, Lei Hao drew “Group D, Number Twelve” and grinned while waving his bamboo slip at Chen Linsheng. Shi Poyue drew “group e, Number Three,” his expression solemn.

Chen Linsheng's gaze shifted slightly, looking at several opponents he was particularly focused on.

Yan Chen's movements were rough as he drew his lot; he grabbed a bamboo slip, glanced at it, sneered, and squeezed it in his palm—group a, Number One. He would be in the first match of the first round, and with the lead lot of group a, his dominance remained unchanged.

Mu Qingxue stepped forward slowly, her fair hand lightly picking a slip carved with group b, Number Five.

Her expression was waveless, as if she had only drawn an insignificant number.

That youth from the military, Han Tie, drew group c, Number Three. He was in the same group as Chen Linsheng but in a different bracket; if both of them won consecutively, they would meet in the group c final.

Yu Linfeng drew Group D, Number Seven; Lin Yueru drew group e, Number Nine; Xu Wangshu drew Group F, Number Two... Once the drawing was finished, Judge Li announced loudly, “The lot positions are set! The first round, fifty matches, will take place simultaneously in five groups. Ten matches per group from group a to group e. Now, group a Numbers One and Two, take the stage!”

“Dong—!”

The war drums thundered, their sound shaking the surroundings.

Yan Chen moved like a ball of burning fire, leaping onto the arena. His fiery red martial attire was eye-catching in the morning light, and waves of heat steamed around him. Before he even struck, the spectators near the arena felt bursts of scorching heat.

His opponent was a sturdy man from the “Iron Fist Sect” in the west of the city, with a Late-stage Flesh Tempering Realm cultivation. His arm muscles were knotted like iron, clearly showing solid external skills. But facing Yan Chen now, the man's face turned pale, and cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

“Blazing Sun Martial Arts Hall, Yan Chen.” Yan Chen stood with his arms crossed, his gaze disdainful. “I'll give you three breaths of time to admit defeat and step down to save your face.”

The Iron Fist Sect man's face flushed as he gritted his teeth and said, “In a Martial Artist's match, how can one retreat without a fight! Please!”

“Stubborn and foolish.” A cruel arc curled at the corner of Yan Chen's mouth.

“Begin!”

As soon as the proctor's voice fell, Yan Chen's figure shot out!

No fancy footwork, no roundabout probing, only the most direct and violent linear charge! Wherever he passed, faint scorched marks were left on the bluestone beneath his feet!

The Iron Fist Sect man gave a violent shout, crossing his arms in front of him. His muscles bulged, and his skin took on a greenish-black hue—the Iron Fist Sect's ultimate technique, “Iron Wall Technique,” was fully activated!

“A mantis trying to stop a carriage.”

Yan Chen opened the five fingers of his right hand, and crimson True Energy gushed out like flames as he struck with a palm!

“Blazing Sun Palm: Mountain Incineration!”

Before the palm wind even arrived, a scorching blast of energy rushed at him! The Iron Fist Sect man felt his breathing stifle, as if he were in a furnace, and his protective energy quickly melted under the high temperature!

“Bang—!”

Palm and arm collided!

There was no stalemate, no resistance.

The “Iron Wall Technique” energy on the Iron Fist Sect man's arms shattered like paper, and he was sent flying back like a kite with a broken string. While still in the air, the “Life Talisman” at his waist shattered with a “crack”!

“group a Number One, Yan Chen wins!”

The proctor announced loudly, his tone calm as if this result had been expected all along.

Yan Chen withdrew his palm, not even glancing at the opponent who had fallen off the stage, and turned to step down. From start to finish, it had taken less than two breaths of time.

Dominant, crushing, and merciless.

A chorus of low exclamations and gasps sounded from the sidelines.

“Too strong! That Iron Fist Sect Disciple was considered a capable fighter, yet he couldn't even take a single move!”

“After the Young Hall Master's secluded meditation, his strength has indeed skyrocketed! The power of this Blazing Sun True Energy is probably close to the Late Stage of the Dragon Tendon Realm, isn't it?”

“If Chen Linsheng meets him again...”

Amidst the discussions, Chen Linsheng's expression remained unchanged, but a hint of solemnity flickered deep in his eyes.

Yan Chen's progress was even faster than he had anticipated. That palm strike just now—the degree of True Energy condensation, the burst speed, and the temperature control—was more than thirty percent stronger than during the Hidden Dragon Banquet. The effect of his secluded meditation in the Earth Fire Cave was significant.

But there was no fear in his heart, only a more tranquil fighting spirit.

“group b Numbers Five and Six, take the stage!”

Mu Qingxue walked slowly onto the stage.

Her opponent was a young woman using a Nine-Section Whip, coming from a small School in the county called the “Spirit Snake Sect.” Her Movement Technique was agile, and her whip technique was treacherous.

“Qiushui Sword Sect, Mu Qingxue.” Mu Qingxue was still in her water-blue long dress, her fair hands empty, her sword not yet unsheathed.

“Spirit Snake Sect, Liu Sisi.” The Nine-Section Whip woman did not dare to be careless; she shook the long whip, and the whip shadows were like snakes, making a whistling sound in the air.

“Begin!”