Chapter 17: The Final Match

At that moment, a platform rose from the ground—far grander than any before. Upon it, a vast formation shimmered into being. Judging by the ripples of power emanating from it, it seemed unbreakable to anyone below the Foundation Establishment stage.

Lin Yang was the first to ascend. Gazing at the sea of expectant faces in the audience, he realized he was now the focus of all attention.

“Who wishes to go first?” Hong Fu inquired.

“I will,” Duan Chenglong declared, stepping forward without hesitation.

“Very well.” Once both men had readied themselves, she announced, “Begin.”

Duan Chenglong’s weapon was a long spear, seven feet in length. Lin Yang drew his own Royal Sword.

“This spear is Thunderclap,” Duan Chenglong proclaimed.

“This sword is Royal Authority,” Lin Yang replied.

Both contestants engaged in a silent contest of nerves, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

Unable to bear the tension any longer, Duan Chenglong suddenly charged, his spear crackling with immense power.

“Take this—Thunderclap Spear!”

Lin Yang met the assault with an upward slash, the simplest yet most refined move of his basic swordsmanship. Though it was a plain technique, it deflected Duan Chenglong’s attack skyward. Seizing the opportunity, Lin Yang discarded his sword and drove a fist into Duan Chenglong’s body.

A barrage of close-range strikes left Duan Chenglong utterly defenseless.

With no other choice, Duan Chenglong quickly activated a talisman, forcing Lin Yang back.

Lin Yang recognized the familiar Vajra Talisman. “Isn’t this the one I drew myself?”

Though Duan Chenglong managed to push Lin Yang away in time, Lin Yang unleashed dozens of punches in an instant, shattering several of Duan Chenglong’s ribs.

Duan Chenglong dropped to his knees, spitting blood onto the ground.

Lin Yang did not press his advantage—after all, a wounded wolf is often the most dangerous.

Unable to respond, Duan Chenglong wiped the blood from his lips and quietly put away the talisman hidden in his sleeve.

Lin Yang formed a hand seal, summoning his Royal Sword back to his grasp. He watched his opponent in silence.

Gripping his sword, Lin Yang gathered his strength and charged once more. Duan Chenglong raised his spear to block the blow. So they exchanged moves, back and forth, neither gaining the upper hand. Lin Yang’s cultivation was lower than Duan Chenglong’s, so his strikes lacked comparable force, but his mastery of swordsmanship was so profound that he balanced the match.

As the stalemate dragged on, pain wracked Duan Chenglong’s body. Desperate, he occasionally cast spells in an attempt to turn the tide.

Now, spellcasting was his only hope for victory. Suddenly, the force of their clashing moves sent both men stumbling back ten paces.

Lin Yang seized the chance. With a Soul-Suppressing Technique, he struck just as Duan Chenglong was dazed by dizziness. In that fleeting instant, Lin Yang pressed his sword to Duan Chenglong’s throat.

“Lin Yang wins the first match.”

“Lin Yang may rest for half an hour before the next bout,” the judge announced.

“No need, I’ve barely expended any strength,” Lin Yang replied, popping a recovery pill into his mouth.

“Very well. Li Ming, your turn.”

Li Ming approached and offered Lin Yang a respectful salute, which Lin Yang returned.

Both men moved to opposite sides of the platform.

“Friend Lin, your technique just now was truly exquisite,” Li Ming observed. “What do you call that sword art?”

“You can just call it the Super Invincible Royal Sword Technique,” Lin Yang replied indifferently.

“You jest, friend Lin. Well, shall we begin?”

“Go Lin Yang! Go Lin Yang!” shouted those in the crowd who had bet on him, their cheers mingling with those rooting for Li Ming. The arena was a sea of voices, everyone calling out the names of the two contestants.

“Please,” Li Ming said.

“The match begins!” As soon as Hong Fu finished speaking, she leapt clear of the platform.

Li Ming and Lin Yang closed in at once, swords clashing, flashes of light arcing in all directions.

Li Ming’s swordplay was advanced, but against Lin Yang’s perfected fundamentals, every move left an opening. Lin Yang pressed him relentlessly.

Seeing no alternative, Li Ming prepared to use the Overturning Sea Sword Art. He hadn’t expected that, by borrowing the force of Lin Yang’s blows, he could execute it more fluidly.

One strike flowed into the next. Li Ming was elated inwardly. “Six strikes already—just three more, and I can unleash the Ninefold Overturning Sea!”

When the eighth strike landed, its borrowed force peaked; the ninth was to be the culmination of all previous blows—a feat impossible at the Qi Refining stage.

Yet as Li Ming launched his eighth strike, Lin Yang deftly hooked his sword with the hilt of his own, sending Li Ming sprawling.

The massive force of the eighth strike crashed onto the platform, gouging a pit a meter deep. In that same instant, Lin Yang caught Li Ming by the throat.

“Lin Yang wins,” Hong Fu declared.

“For this Immortal Ascension Tournament, Lin Yang is the champion. Li Ming and Duan Chenglong will have a rematch in an hour,” Hong Fu announced.

“I concede,” Duan Chenglong said, his chest wrapped in thick bandages, yielding with resignation.

“Very well. Lin Yang takes first place, Li Ming second, Duan Chenglong third.”

“After discussion, your reward is the freedom to choose your own sects.”

“As for the other two hundred cultivators who made it to the finals, please come forward.”

“You shall be selected by Foundation Establishment cultivators from the major sects to join as disciples.”

At this, Foundation Establishment elders from the seven great sects flew onto the stage, each selecting over twenty disciples.

Lin Yang, Li Ming, and Duan Chenglong sat together, chatting.

“So, which sect do you want to choose?” one asked.

“I’m going to Yellow Maple Valley,” Lin Yang replied.

Li Ming chimed in, “Ah, me too. But that’s only because my uncle is there. What about you?”

Lin Yang thought to himself, “I can’t exactly say it’s because the protagonist will join Yellow Maple Valley in the future…” Out loud, he said, “I suppose I just find it agreeable.”

“What kind of reason is that? And you, Brother Duan?”

“I’m planning to join Giant Sword Sect. Their temperament suits me,” Duan Chenglong answered. “To be honest, I once dreamed of upholding justice.”

Soon, the sects finished selecting their disciples.

“Have you three decided which sects to join?” Nangong Wan asked.

“I’ll go to Yellow Maple Valley,” Lin Yang said.

“Me too,” said Li Ming.

“I’m going to Giant Sword Sect,” said Duan Chenglong.

“Very well. Report to Senior Sister Hong Fu or Senior Brother Jin Jian of Giant Sword Sect,” she instructed.

“Alright.” Lin Yang and Duan Chenglong parted ways, heading toward the airships of Yellow Maple Valley and Giant Sword Sect, respectively.

“Senior Aunt Hong Fu, we’re here to report in,” Lin Yang and Li Ming announced beneath the Yellow Maple Valley airship.

“Alright then, I didn’t expect to recruit two such promising disciples this year,” Hong Fu said.

“Let’s board the airship and return to Yellow Maple Valley.” She called everyone aboard and started the vessel.

The ship was enveloped in a protective shield as it ascended steadily. Only when it reached a height of about two hundred meters did it glide forward.

Passing through the clouds, the ship split the sky in two. Though fierce winds howled outside, the barrier kept the ride perfectly smooth.

It was everyone’s first time aboard such a vessel, and they were full of curiosity, touching and inspecting every part. Lin Yang gazed at the sky—the ship was so fast, the distant clouds seemed to rush toward them.

He was still intently studying the array inscriptions and materials used in the ship’s construction when a group of chattering senior sisters approached.

“Look, this is our little champion! Lift your shirt, let us feel your stomach,” one teased.

Lin Yang stepped back, parrying their playful hands. “Greetings, senior sisters, but please, don’t tease me.”

“I have something to attend to—please excuse me.” Startled by the group, Lin Yang made a hasty retreat and went to find Li Ming.

“See, see, the little brother is shy now!”

“Indeed, indeed.”

“It’s your fault—if you hadn’t gotten handsy, he wouldn’t have run off.”

“But don’t you think Lin Yang is strong, rich, and handsome? Isn’t he the ideal husband?”

“That depends if he’s interested in you. Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

“Why, you—”

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