With the rise of my family, I can summon the Daoist Soldiers' Nest.

Then, everyone followed the gaze and focused on the middle position where the two groups were facing off.

There was a particularly eye-catching tree there.

It is not tall; in fact, it appears much shorter than the ancient trees around it that were snapped in half by fierce battles.

However, this unassuming little tree gleamed with a faint white light under the sunlight.

If you look closely, you can see rows of tiny figures holding bows and arrows standing on the tree trunk, their movements so lifelike that they seem ready to draw their bows and shoot arrows at any moment.

"It's the lair of the Daoist soldiers," Liang Feiyu said in a low voice, but his excitement was still palpable.

"It looks like a third-rate nest, the specific type is unknown, but judging from the posture of those little figures, they are likely archer-type Taoist soldiers."

These words ignited everyone's passion.

The Dao Soldier's Nest is one of the most precious treasures in Thunder Swamp, and it was their primary objective in venturing thousands of miles into this place. Now that it's right in front of them, neither side is willing to back down an inch.

"Friends, lying in ambush nearby, waiting to take advantage of others, isn't that a bit underhanded?" The old man leading the group on the left spoke loudly, his tone sarcastic, but he did not make a move rashly.

Upon hearing this, Liang Feiyu's chest swelled, and his acquired internal energy surged forth, his voice booming like a bell.

"Treasures of heaven and earth should belong to those with virtue. Besides, we were just passing through this place and happened to come across this place. We had no intention of attacking them."

His voice echoed through the forest, carrying a distinct vibrational force, demonstrating the profound cultivation of a martial artist.

As soon as the words were spoken, a delicate standoff immediately formed between the three groups. The air seemed to freeze, and even the sound of the wind became heavy.

Lin Ye followed behind, glancing around out of the corner of his eye while calmly assessing the damage to the trees on the battlefield. Judging from the destruction of the trees, they should each have only one Acquired Martial Artist.

In a one-on-one fight, our two acquired experts would have the advantage.

However, if the two groups join forces temporarily, they will have more people and the number of top-notch martial artists will likely exceed their side's. In addition, the other side is familiar with the terrain, so they may not be able to win if a real fight breaks out.

The two groups opposite them, judging from Liang Feiyu's deep voice and Ning Wuji's stance standing side by side, concluded that the Qingyuan Sword Sect had at least two Acquired martial artists.

Knowing they lack the strength to confront them head-on, they are also unwilling to be the first to provoke a conflict.

For a time, the three parties remained deadlocked, separated by a distance of several dozen feet.

The low tree, emitting a soft white light, stood quietly.

"Since we've all ended up on the same island, it's fate. It's not worth fighting to the death for a third-rate nest."

The middle-aged man leading the group on the right loudly suggested, "How about this? We'll settle this with a martial arts contest, and the winner will claim this nest. What do you say?"

He knew very well that, together with the group opposite them, there was only one acquired martial artist on each side.

Even if they join forces, they might not be able to defeat the two acquired experts on Lin Ye's side.

Moreover, the two groups had already fought each other before. Even if they joined forces to drive away the Qingyuan Sword Sect, they would still have to fight again to decide who would belong to whom.

It's really not worth taking such a big risk for a third-rate nest.

After listening, Liang Feiyu thought for a moment and then nodded in agreement.

He exchanged a glance with Ning Wuji beside him. They both knew that this was a way to test each other's strength while avoiding unnecessary casualties.

Moreover, he had confidence in Ning Wuji.

As for the first-rate elders and second-rate disciples, the outcome of the martial arts competition had little to do with them.

Since the outcome is to be determined through a martial arts competition, it can only be a contest between martial artists who have acquired their skills through training.

All three parties knew perfectly well that this so-called martial arts competition was merely an opportunity to ascertain the opponent's true combat strength.

If the opponent is a stronger martial artist, then it is wise to back down; if they are weaker, then take advantage of the situation to launch an attack and take over the nest.

If first-rate or second-rate martial artists were to participate, even if they won, it would not truly measure the opponent's top combat strength, making such a competition meaningless.

Soon, the three parties reached a consensus: three acquired martial artists would participate in the battle.

The three parties then drew lots to determine the order of their matches.

As a result, the Qingyuan Sword Sect was unlucky and had to face the middle-aged martial artist on the right in the first round.

The winner will then fight the old man on the left. The ultimate victor will gain the contract rights to the nest of this third-rate archer.

The middle-aged martial artist on the right slowly stepped out, his long sword gleaming with azure light.

He came to the center of the open space and stood ten feet away from Ning Wuji.

Neither of them spoke, nor did either of them reveal their names or origins. In this Thunder Swamp, any act of revealing one's identity could invite retaliation from across the state in the future.

The battle erupted in the next instant.

The middle-aged man moved swiftly, his long sword flashing like a snake's tongue, aiming straight for Ning Wuji's throat.

This sword strike was delivered at a tricky angle and with incredible speed. The tip of the sword pierced the air, even faintly accompanied by the sound of wind and thunder, clearly indicating the user's considerable skill and rich combat experience.

Ning Wuji seemed to have anticipated this. Instead of retreating, he advanced, shifted his left foot, lowered his right shoulder slightly, and drew his longsword like a blue rainbow from its sheath, drawing a smooth arc in front of him.

The sword light collided with the tip of the opponent's sword in mid-air. A clear "clang" was heard, sparks flew, and the energy surged, shaking the surrounding fallen leaves into a frenzy.

The two exchanged blows, their sword strikes raining down, their figures crisscrossing.

Ning Wuji's swordsmanship was clearly superior to that of the middle-aged man. His swordsmanship was not only exquisite, but also contained a flowing rhythm. Every sword strike seemed to be pre-planned, with feints and real attacks, and changes hidden within the real attacks.

His movements were incredibly fast; often, before the middle-aged man's sword strike was even finished, he would have already circled to the side, his sword blade sweeping diagonally, aiming straight for vital points.

Although the middle-aged man possessed superb swordsmanship and seasoned combat experience, he was always a step behind Ning Wuji. In several head-on clashes, the two sword beams collided violently in mid-air, and the resulting energy swept across the surroundings like a knife cutting through the air.

The trees more than ten feet away were affected by the scattered sword energy and were silently cut in half, with clean and smooth cuts, as if they had been carefully sliced ​​by a sharp blade.

After more than thirty moves, beads of sweat appeared on the middle-aged man's forehead, and his breathing became slightly erratic. He knew that if the fight continued, he would inevitably be at a disadvantage.

Just as Ning Wuji forced him back three feet with his sword, the tip hovering about an inch in front of his chest, the middle-aged man suddenly withdrew his sword, stepped back, cupped his hands, and loudly proclaimed, "Your swordsmanship is superb; I concede defeat!"

Ning Wuji sheathed his sword and stood there calmly. Neither of them was injured from beginning to end, and not even the hem of their clothes was torn by the sword energy.

Another old man slowly walked out, carrying a broad-backed sword in his hand. The sword was thick and heavy, and its cold light was menacing.

He stood in the center of the field, his gaze sweeping over Ning Wuji, then glancing at the middle-aged man on his right, already having made up his mind.

He saw the competition clearly just now.

The middle-aged man's swordsmanship was exquisite, and his strength was comparable to Ning Wuji's, but he was defeated in less than forty moves.

Now that he is about to fight Ning Wuji, his chances of winning are even slimmer.

Moreover, he already knew that the other side had two acquired martial artists in charge, while their side, including the middle-aged man, only had two people.

Even if they join forces, they might not gain any advantage, let alone compete for this nest.

Thinking this through, the old man began to consider retreating. Continuing to fight would not only fail to capture the nest, but could also result in injury, affecting subsequent exploration and the return journey, which would truly be a losing proposition.

So, when the two exchanged blows, the old man only casually swung his sword a few times. Although the sword strikes were fierce, he did not actually intend to kill.

Ning Wuji's swordsmanship was relentless, with sword light swirling around him, forcing him to retreat repeatedly.

After a few moves, the old man sheathed his sword and retreated, cupping his hands and saying, "Your strength is superb, I humbly admit defeat."

Ning Wuji sheathed his sword and stood still, his gaze calm, without giving chase.

In both matches, his opponent conceded defeat early, thwarting his plan to severely damage one of them and weaken the other.

However, the victory was already secured, the ownership of the lair was a foregone conclusion, and the objective had been achieved.

Liang Feiyu stepped forward, exchanged a glance with Ning Wuji, and then said calmly to the two groups, "Now that the duel has been decided, this lair belongs to my Qingyuan Sword Sect. If you have nothing else to do, please make yourselves at home."

Although the two acquired martial artists were unwilling, they had no choice but to accept it.

They exchanged a glance, then led their respective groups away, quickly disappearing into the depths of the dense forest.