163: Chapter 163 The Captain's Arena Battle Begins

The day of the captain competition had arrived.

The Yunhai Fishery had never been this lively.

Before the sky was fully bright, the guards from the various fish ponds began gathering by the lake in twos and threes; some brought bamboo stools to sit on the high ground along the shore, while others climbed directly onto the crooked old willow trees by the water.

Morning light spilled over the eastern ridge and onto the lake, the shimmering waves reflecting the sea of heads on the shore, startling even the Treasure Fish in the lake so much that they dove into the deeper waters.

The arena was set up in the most open space between the lakeshore and the bamboo building, constructed from slabs of bluestone, measuring three zhang in length and width, and standing three chi above the ground.

The stone surface had been worn smooth as a mirror by the lake winds over the years, and four newly whittled bamboo flagpoles stood at the corners, bearing the Qixia Sect's Cloud Haze flags, which snapped and fluttered in the morning breeze.

The members of Team 6 surrounded Lin Tian as they walked along the gravel path. Chen Lang walked on his left, while on his right was another member he had saved with his arrows. The group unconsciously closed ranks around him, as if to shield him from the gazes cast from every direction.

"Junior Brother Lin, don't be nervous," Chen Lang said in a low voice. "We've all seen your archery; across the entire fishery, no one can compare to you." Lin Tian glanced at him, smiled, and then strode toward the open space in front of the arena.

The Elder was already standing in the center of the arena; he had a thin, lean figure and wore a grey robe, holding a roster and a stack of sealed recommendation letters.

He gave a cough, and the entire lakeshore went quiet. "Now, those participating in the captain competition, take a step forward."

Lin Tian stepped out with his right foot and walked out from the crowd. At the same time, more than twenty others emerged from various directions. These individuals all moved with steady steps and possessed thick, powerful Qi.

They were all at the Late Stage of the 4th Grade, some carrying sabers at their waists, some with swords on their backs, and others empty-handed but with thick knuckles, clearly experts in fist and palm techniques.

They sized each other up, their gazes colliding silently in the air, and then, almost everyone's eyes fell on the same place—Lin Tian.

There was no helping it; he was too conspicuous.

Of the twenty-plus candidates, all were veteran Disciples; even the youngest had been at the fishery for several years. Lin Tian recognized a few faces—guards in Team 3 and Team 5 whom he had seen from afar on occasion.

Only Lin Tian was different; he had been a Disciple for less than two years and at the fishery for less than half a year. Standing amidst the group of veterans, the greenness on his face had not yet been completely worn away by the lake winds.

The buzzing discussions in the crowd erupted like a boiling pot.

"Who is that? He's so young to be competing for captain? What a joke!" a guard from Team 3 craned his neck. Someone beside him immediately chimed in, their tone filled with disbelief: "Isn't that the archer from Team 6? That newcomer? Is he crazy?"

"Zixia Peak recommended him? Is there no one left at Zixia Peak? Why didn't they send a decent veteran Disciple?" "The newcomer is just here to make up the numbers; he'll definitely be knocked out in the first round."

The other candidates were also watching Lin Tian. A veteran Disciple from Chixia Peak who carried a sword on his back curled his lips, his expression one of undisguised contempt.

Another burly man from Jinxia Peak, his fists wrapped in cloth strips, snorted, his gaze sweeping over Lin Tian without even a flicker of interest before he turned away to continue chatting and laughing with the person beside him.

Even the members of Team 6 were feeling uneasy.

Chen Lang clenched his fists, his palms slightly sweaty—Junior Brother Lin's archery was beyond question, and the entire fishery was convinced of it, but arena combat was face-to-face slaughter; the advantage of a bow was extremely limited, as opponents wouldn't give him the time to draw it.

Another team member whispered to his companion, "How many rounds do you think Junior Brother Lin can last?" The person asked remained silent.

Ma Gang stood in the front row of the crowd, his thick arms crossed over his chest. His face was expressionless, but his eyes, which had been tempered by ten years at the Yunhai Fishery, held a trace of certainty that only he understood.

The person recommended by the Wind Master shouldn't be subpar.

He had seen Peak Master Su Hanyan's annoyance after she had misjudged someone in the past—to be able to retrieve a Disciple she had personally deemed a waste and bring them back for focused training meant this Peak Master would never be foolish when it came to selecting a captain. Even if Lin Tian didn't end up as the final captain, he would certainly not be a pushover to be eliminated in the first round.

The Elder unfolded the roster, his voice cutting through the noisy crowd to reach everyone's ears clearly: "I now announce that the captain competition has officially begun."

There are two rules: First, stop at the point of victory; heavy-handed attacks are strictly prohibited, and violators will be severely punished.

Second, there are twenty-three contestants in total, and opponents will be decided by drawing lots. It will be a series of one-on-one duels, with the winners advancing to the next round until the final victor is determined."

He paused, his stern eyes sweeping over every candidate present. "Do you all understand?"

No one made a sound, and no one dared to refute him. The Elder gestured to the side of the arena, and two deacon Disciples walked up carrying a massive wooden box with a round hole in the top. "There are twenty-three wooden tiles; everyone draw one."

Those who draw consecutive numbers will be opponents—Number 1 against Number 2, Number 3 against Number 4, and so on."

The candidates stepped forward one by one to reach into the wooden box. Some pulled out a tile and flipped it over to show their companions on the sidelines; others pulled out a tile and lowered their heads to read the number aloud. The deacon Disciple beside the Elder recorded them one by one, ticking off the roster for each entry.

When it was Lin Tian's turn, he reached into the wooden box and casually grabbed one of the remaining tiles, flipping it over—Number 23.

He walked to the registration desk with the tile. The deacon Disciple glanced down, his pen pausing on the roster, before he looked up at Lin Tian and announced the number loudly.

The Elder checked the list, his voice rising slightly as he announced, "Number 23 has a bye; you will advance directly to the next round."

The entire lakeshore erupted. "Who drew 23? Why do they get a bye?" "That's way too lucky! They advance directly without having to fight!"