Simultaneous traversal: All Abyss difficulty.

Chapter 709: Start fighting

"you you!"

Li Mu and the others were so angry they fainted!

However, since the Second Elder said to leave it at that for now, they didn't dare to disrupt the sect meeting and could only swallow their anger and return to their seats.

Fang Yu withdrew his gaze, grabbed Su Su's slightly stiff arm, and pressed her back onto the cold stone seat beside him without any room for argument.

He could feel the tightness beneath the blue robe.

"I'm sorry, Su Su." He lowered his voice and spoke frankly, "I was a little anxious just now and didn't think much about it."

Su Su's beautiful face was almost deathly pale, her lips pressed into a thin line. She glared at him irritably, her voice low and strained, each word seeming to be squeezed from a crack in ice: "I've already drawn my sword, who knows you..."

"And your cultivation technique... this..."

She swallowed the rest of her sentence halfway through, her Adam's apple bobbing slightly.

Thousands of eyes, some bright and some dim, surrounded them like invisible threads, some of them coldly watching.

She couldn't, and dared not, point it out here.

Master will definitely investigate the source of that terrifying power of that technique afterward!
But to think they can back out now? That's a pipe dream.

From the Second Elder to the lowest-ranking servant, everyone in Kinmen was focused on them. Should Fang Yu be allowed to leave the mountain?

Fang Yu grinned nonchalantly, his smile carrying a relaxed air that Su Su couldn't comprehend at all, and even a hint of lazy roguishness.

Laozi tattooed on his body, applause for the socialite!
If the sky falls, Laozi will hold it up. What are you afraid of, immortal cultivation sects?
at this time--

"Boom--!"

A heavy, slightly muffled gong rang out, instantly silencing all the whispers and buzzing discussions in the arena.

The disciple in charge of announcing the greetings on stage strained his voice, trying his best to sound powerful:

"The sect competition officially begins! First match: Zhao Qiansun versus Qiansun Li!"

The two inner disciples who stepped forward in response could be vaguely discerned as having some spiritual energy flowing between them; one was at the third level of Qi Refining, and the other at the fourth level.

What happened next plunged the entire room of "immortals" into an awkward silence.

There was no expected surge of sword energy or dramatic incantations.

The moment the two met, they roared and clashed together like brutes in the street!
Punch to the flesh!

The muffled thuds continued, interspersed with groans of pain.

What movement technique, what steps? There was no trace of it.

One person grabbed the other's hair bun, while the other violently tugged at his front. The two rolled on the ground, tearing and biting each other without any order. In an instant, they were bleeding profusely from their heads. Sweat, mud, and dust mixed with blood smeared all over their faces, and their heavy breathing sounded like a broken bellows.

Where is the demeanor of an immortal cultivator?

They were clearly two desperate hooligans rolling around in the mud!
There was silence below.

Some people's lips twitched, some lowered their heads in embarrassment, and some barely managed to hold back their laughter—the spectacle was arguably even less entertaining than a martial arts match at a mortal martial arts school.

The two men in the arena, however, were completely oblivious, their eyes bloodshot as if they were mortal enemies, focused only on attacking each other's vital points.

One person recklessly attempted to bite the other's neck, while the other's fingers were already dangerously close to the other's eyes—

"enough!"

A low, angry shout boomed from the high platform, like a muffled thunderclap.

Second Elder Li Cha's face turned ashen, a vein throbbed on his forehead, and he suddenly swung his sleeve!
An invisible, immense force surged onto the stone platform like a tidal wave, instantly tearing apart the two inner disciples who were locked in a fierce battle, sending them flying several feet before crashing heavily to the ground, looking utterly disheveled.

"In sect duels, the fight ends when the point is reached! Any further loss of control will result in a forfeit!"

Li Cha's voice was icy, carrying an unquestionable air of authority.

The two disciples, who had just been itching to bite each other to death, now lay on the ground, their faces covered in blood and dirt. Although resentment and unwillingness still lingered in their eyes, they had no choice but to lower their heads in hatred and grunt under the stern gaze of the steward disciple, accepting the judgment with a muffled groan.

I was unwilling, but also helpless.

Kinmen is a sect that only cares about money, not to mention that most of these people are "ascetic practitioners" who don't have much money.

Skills, techniques, mental cultivation methods, magical treasures, elixirs, and miraculous medicines.
In Kinmen, what doesn't cost money?

No money?

If you have no money, just live a life of idleness and wait to die. Get a Qi Refining stage body and live for another ten or eight years.

As for Qi Refining...
No money? What kind of immortal cultivation are you talking about!

The vast majority of disciples, like Zhao Qiansun and Qiansun Li, only possessed the physique of the Qi Refining stage, but lacked everything else.

After all that commotion, the sun was high in the sky before the first pair of Foundation Establishment stage disciples finally got to compete.

"Next match, Wang Er will face off against Li Si!"

As soon as their names were announced, everyone sat up straight.

The two were clearly of high status within the sect, and their weapons were also slightly superior.

"Senior Brother Wang, please!"

"Junior Brother Li, please!"

No longer as disheveled as in the previous street brawl, Wang Er and Li Si each drew their longswords, their cold gleam accompanied by clear, resonant sword cries.

The two figures clashed, their longswords striking each other with a clanging sound. Although their movements still carried the stiffness and sluggishness of lower-level cultivators, they had at least begun to resemble a contest between immortal cultivators.

The real change lies in his movement techniques.

The two did not merely move on the ground; their figures suddenly rose higher as they activated a secret technique. A faint spiritual light emanated from beneath their feet, forcefully dragging their entire bodies and the fragments of the arena beneath them. Amidst creaking sounds and chaotic fluctuations of spiritual energy, they laboriously "floated" into the air!
In an instant, the battlefield shifted!
They faced each other in the air, several dozen feet above the ground, with broken stone platforms and floating objects beneath their feet. Their figures swayed unsteadily in the unstable aura, but they managed to maintain their posture in the air.

This immediately caused an uproar and astonishment!

"Look! They're flying!" a young disciple exclaimed excitedly, pointing to the sky. "No wonder they're Senior Brother Wang and Senior Brother Li! They can actually ride the platform and soar through the air!"

Many outer disciples looked on with envy that seemed unattainable.

In their eyes, being able to lift the arena into the sky, even if it wobbles and the light flickers, is already an incredible divine skill!
The two fought again.

Sword energy crisscrossed, sword light flashed, and figures sometimes intersected and chased each other, sometimes hovered and clashed, leaving faint trails in the air.

Each time the swords clashed, the floating stone slabs trembled, flashing with spiritual light, appearing precariously about to collapse.

Both of them had flushed red from holding back their energy, clearly indicating that maintaining this "battle on the platform" was extremely taxing on their spiritual power.

Wang Er thrust out his sword, the force of which, accompanied by a whistling sound, aimed directly at Li Si's face.

Li Si parried with his sword, and with a loud clang, the impact made the stone slab beneath his feet sink, and he swayed a few times before regaining his balance.

Li Si counterattacked, unleashing a series of sword strikes, each one a sharp, cold starlight.

Wang Er fought back with all his might, but was forced to retreat repeatedly until he reached the edge of the floating rock beneath his feet. One more step and he would fall.

The people below watched with their hearts in their throats, not daring to breathe.

Just as Wang Er was in grave danger, he suddenly pulled out a dull-colored pill with mixed spiritual energy and stuffed it into his mouth.

As the medicine took effect, a flicker of pain crossed his face, but his spiritual energy also surged for a brief moment!
"Break the waves!" Wang Er roared, and an unstable blue light suddenly shone on his sword, surging back like a rising tide!

Li Si hastily changed tactics, raising his sword to meet the attack head-on.

"boom--!"

A muffled thud was accompanied by a violent surge of spiritual energy that exploded outwards!

The floating platform beneath their feet could no longer hold and instantly crumbled into rubble.

Wang Er and Li Si both coughed up blood and were slammed to the ground by the enormous recoil, sending dust flying everywhere.

As the smoke cleared, the two men lay on the ground coughing up blood, their swords flying out of their hands.

He struggled to his feet, but was too weak to pick up his weapon. He could only lean on his knees and gasp for breath, sweat mixed with blood and mud flowing down his face.

The scene was silent for a moment.

The deacon in charge of the referee glanced at the Second Elder Li Cha's expression, and seeing him nod slightly, he had no choice but to announce loudly:

"This battle is a draw! Wang Er and Li Si are both included!"

The audience erupted in cheers and discussions of varying degrees.

Although it ended in a sorry state, in the eyes of these shallow Golden Gate disciples, the fact that the fight could be brought to the sky, with sword energy crisscrossing and forcing them to rely on pills to unleash their power, and finally shattering the arena and causing both of them to vomit blood before a clear winner could be determined, was already the kind of clash between "strong people" that they could imagine!
Fang Yu leaned back on the stone steps, watching the "wonderful" duel come to an end with a blank expression.

In his eyes, the unsteady swaying in the air, the flashes of light during the collision, the twitching of his face when taking medicine, and the disheveled state after landing were all flaws.

'All show and no substance, nothing more.' He scoffed inwardly.

The so-called sword energy, as he keenly perceived it, was as thin and mixed as diluted, inferior liquor. The flight was more like the dizziness and disorientation of someone who had drunk too much fake alcohol.

'However,' he glanced at the outer disciples on the field, whose eyes were shining and who were marveling at the sight, and then at Su Su, who was standing next to him with a slightly focused expression.

'This must be the level of those considered prominent figures among the Qi Refining disciples of the Golden Gate.'

'Su Su is probably only at this level, perhaps with limited strength, and it's all thanks to that old ghost's evil arts that she was tormented.'

'I have the Rinnegan, so I can do whatever I want here, right?'

Seeing the skills of these people, Fang Yu felt reassured.

The following matches were mostly like this, either with stiff moves but intense exchanges, or with injuries being exchanged for injuries and dangerous situations.

Soon, with the butler's announcement, the top 36 contestants of this tournament were all determined.

When Fang Yu's name was called, in full view of everyone, the steward walked directly to Fang Yu and handed him a green herb with a faint spiritual energy.

"Junior Brother Fangfang, this is the preliminary selection reward distributed by the sect to the top 36: one 'Jade Grass'."

This spiritual herb is of inferior quality and its spiritual energy is impure, but for the vast majority of Golden Gate disciples, it is still a rare cultivation resource.

The deacon's face showed a hint of stiffness and reluctance, and his movements appeared particularly perfunctory.

Clearly, this was just a formality out of respect for the skinny Taoist—the reward that should have been won fairly on the stage was directly "allocated" to this pseudo-spiritual root waste, a former toilet cleaner, who had made it into the top 36 through some inexplicable connection and strange luck, in an almost condescending manner.

Ignoring the disdainful, jealous, and even mocking gazes around him, Fang Yu reached out and took the spiritual herb, casually stuffing it into his pocket.

The second round of grouping was followed by a draw.

In front of everyone, the deacon began to read out the names of the opponents:
"Group Three, Zhou Tong vs. Sun Li"

"Sixth Group, Li Mu," the deacon seemed to pause slightly for a beat as he glanced at the list.

Fang Yu's heart also tightened slightly, and a cold smile unconsciously appeared on his lips.

"Group Six: Li Mu – Fang Yu!"

The results are in!

"Whoa—!" The scene erupted in an even louder uproar than when they had just watched the duel!

"Haha! Karma's finally caught up with me!"

"What a small world! Senior Brother Li! The chance for revenge has arrived!"

"Let's see how this kid can hide now!"

"He's only been a beginner for less than a week. Whatever extraordinary skills he might have, he must have used them all up in that last match! He's still not withdrawing from the competition; he's practically an idiot!"

"It's fate! Let him die! Let him die!" Li Mu's accomplices shouted excitedly.

But Li Mu, the person involved, nervously clenched his sleeve and looked at Fang Yu's strange eyes and confident face.
A somewhat embarrassing and absurd idea floated into Li Mu's mind.
I.
What if we can't win?

(End of this chapter)