Three days flew by in the blink of an eye. The triennial family tournament of the Ye family had finally begun.
The tournament was held in the martial arts arena. A high stage had been erected in the center, with the family banners planted at its four corners, fluttering noisily in the wind.
Almost everyone in the clan who was free had gathered. After all, this was a grand triennial event for the family.
The spectator stands and the open ground were packed to the brim, buzzing with noisy chatter.
On the main high platform, Clan Leader Ye Zhenhong and the nine elders sat in a row. Two chairs were placed side by side in the very center—the clan leader on the left and the Great Elder on the right.
Ye Zhenhong, in his early forties with a burly frame, wore a black brocade robe. Simply sitting there, he exuded an aura of natural authority.
The Great Elder, Ye Yanling, was over seventy years old, her silver hair combed meticulously. Dressed in a greyish-blue robe, her face was kind, yet her eyes were as bright as torches. No one dared to underestimate her.
The other eight elders sat on either side, men and women alike, all bearing solemn expressions.
On both sides of the stage, the participating disciples stood in two rows, their eyes shining with anticipation, eager to start the fights immediately.
In a corner of the crowd, Ye Ling stood alone, her face expressionless. No matter how lively the surroundings were, it seemed to have nothing to do with her.
Once the arena quieted down, Ye Zhenhong raised his hand to signal for silence. His voice was resonant, carrying clearly to everyone present.
“Clansmen, the triennial family tournament officially begins today. I will now announce the rewards, so listen closely.”
“First place will be rewarded with two Yellow-grade high-tier martial arts. Second and third place will each receive one Yellow-grade high-tier martial art. Fourth and fifth place will each receive two Yellow-grade mid-tier martial arts.”
“In addition, pills and money have been added this time. All participants will be rewarded with five bottles of Qi Gathering Pills each.”
“The top thirty will receive an additional ten bottles of Qi Gathering Pills. The top ten will each be awarded one thousand taels of gold.”
As soon as he finished speaking, a loud buzz of excitement erupted below the stage.
These rewards were far more generous than in previous years, and the eyes of many young disciples turned red with desire.
Hearing about the one thousand taels of gold, Ye Ling thought to herself, The family is indeed being generous this time.
However, her face remained calm and indifferent. While these things were good, the reward for first place was still the best.
The Fifth Elder walked to the edge of the stage. Having managed the family discipline for many years, she was lean with a cold, stern face. Her eyes were sharp as knives, and no one dared to play any tricks in front of her.
Her voice was not loud, but it was clearly audible to the entire arena.
“For this tournament, only those aged fifteen to twenty with a cultivation of the Houtian Fifth Layer or above may register. This year, there are sixty-three qualified participants.”
With that, the Fifth Elder began calling out names.
“Ye Tao, Ye Chuan, take the stage!”
Two young disciples quickly ran out and leaped onto the stage. After exchanging bows, they immediately took their stances, their spiritual energy beginning to surge.
The crowd below instantly grew lively, with cheers and discussions erupting everywhere.
Over sixty people took turns on the stage. Spiritual energy clashed, and techniques crossed in one match after another.
Most opponents were evenly matched, fighting back and forth. Occasionally, a powerful cultivator would win with a single blow, drawing waves of gasps from the crowd.
On the high platform, the clan leader and the elders watched quietly, occasionally nodding in approval.
Ye Ling stood in the corner, remaining motionless. She quietly waited for her turn to go up.
The rounds went by. The matches of the ordinary disciples had their share of wins and losses, making for an exciting show that the crowd thoroughly enjoyed.
But as soon as it was the turn of the clan's two acknowledged geniuses, the atmosphere changed instantly.
When Ye Ling took the stage, his Houtian Ninth Layer cultivation was on full display, his foundation terrifyingly solid.
With his straight posture, snow-white robes, a long sword at his waist, and a handsome but unsmiling face, he cut an imposing figure.
No matter who his opponent was, his expression remained indifferent. He would casually send them off the stage with a single strike of his sword, never needing a second move.
Ye Fei was no less impressive. She was tall and slender, her dark hair bound with a jade hairpin, dressed in light green martial attire with a silver whip wrapped around her waist.
Her movement was agile and her techniques exquisite. Every time she went up, she defeated her opponent in a single move, winning with ease and drawing bursts of cheers from the crowd.
Ye Chen was even more eye-catching. His face was lean, his features sharp, and his eyes were as calm as a deep pool.
With his Houtian Seventh Layer cultivation and an incredibly exquisite sword technique, he was far stronger than his ordinary peers.
Those who had bullied him in the past could not even withstand a single strike of his sword; they were all instantly defeated.
The entire crowd was dumbfounded, and no one dared to mention the word "useless" ever again.
The three geniuses won several matches in a row, completely unstoppable and full of momentum.
After a few more rounds, the Fifth Elder's voice rang out, “Ye Long, Ye Ling, take the stage!”
The crowd below immediately burst into a flurry of whispers.
Ye Long strode onto the stage. He was tall and burly, with rugged features and a hint of ruthlessness in his eyes.
Having just broken through to the Houtian Sixth Layer, his confidence had soared. He had been nursing the grudge of being defeated by Ye Ling in a single strike a few months ago.
He had always felt that he had only lost back then because his cultivation was lacking, not because he was actually inferior to her.
After practicing desperately over the past few months, he had finally broken through and felt completely reborn.
Standing on one side of the stage, he stared fiercely at the opposite side, not even bothering with any useless talk.
With a light tap of her toes, Ye Ling leaped onto the stage. Dressed in green martial attire with her long hair tied in a ponytail, her face was beautiful but devoid of expression.
Her Houtian Ninth Layer cultivation and her trump card of half-step Sword Force were both perfectly concealed, leaving outsiders unable to detect a thing.
The Fifth Elder glanced at the two of them and said coldly, “Begin.”
The moment the word left her mouth, Ye Long stomped his foot, fully activating his spiritual energy. With powerful energy swirling around him, he charged fiercely toward Ye Ling, looking absolutely determined to win.
Watching him charge, only one thought crossed Ye Ling's mind.
Does this guy have some kind of misunderstanding about his own strength?
In her eyes, Ye Long's movements were full of openings, as slow as a crawling turtle.
With a flick of her wrist, her sword left its sheath.
A flash of sword light gleamed. It wasn't overly flashy, yet it carried an indescribable sense of pressure.
Swoosh.
As the sword light swept past, the spiritual energy shield around Ye Long shattered instantly, dispersing into stray currents of energy.
An irresistible pressure suddenly descended, locking him completely in place.
Ye Long's eyes widened in shock. The fierce expression on his face froze instantly, replaced by sheer disbelief.
Before he could even react, the residual force of the sword strike swept over him.
Bang!
Ye Long's body shuddered as he was sent flying backward, crashing heavily onto the ground outside the stage. His spiritual energy ran wild, and a sharp pain shot through his chest.
A single strike. Clean, decisive, and without suspense.
Ye Ling sheathed her sword and let her hands fall to her sides, standing quietly in the center of the stage, her expression completely unchanged.
The Fifth Elder took a glance and announced loudly, “Ye Ling, victory!”
The crowd below erupted into an uproar.
No one had expected that Ye Long, who had broken through to the Houtian Sixth Layer and was eager for revenge, would fail to withstand even a single move from Ye Ling.
Was that cultivation fanatic, who spent every day practicing her sword in the back hills and never associated with anyone, really this strong? Hadn't she just turned fifteen?
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