Starting as the heir of a marquis's mansion, I gained access to a summoning system.

In the Wanfo Temple camp, the selfless young monk stood up.

Unlike the others who had leaped onto the arena, he slowly walked up the steps, each step light and steady, with faint glimpses of golden lotus flowers appearing beneath his feet.

"Amitabha." Wangwo stood in the center of the arena, hands clasped together, eyes lowered. "This humble monk, Wangwo, wishes to offer a Buddhist relic as a wager, seeking guidance from you all."

His voice was clear and peaceful, like a mountain spring, bringing tranquility to those who listened.

Within the Zhenwu Daoist camp, the young Daoist Guiyuan smiled slightly and stood up. With a light sweep of his whisk, he rose gracefully, landing opposite Wangwo.

"The True Martial Daoist School, Guiyuan. I wish to offer a volume of Daoist scriptures as annotations for discussion with my junior master."

The two stood facing each other.

One is shimmering with Buddha's light, the other is enveloped in pure, ethereal energy.

One had lowered eyes and a smile on his face.

The audience below fell silent, seemingly for some reason. Even the sea breeze seemed to soften, and the sound of the waves became less intense.

Forgetful, he looked up at Guiyuan, his gaze clear as water: "Fellow Daoist Guiyuan, please."

Guiyuan waved his whisk and said, "Please."

The two moved at the same time.

He took a step forward with complete absorption, and a golden light flashed, with the faint phantom of a Buddha appearing behind him. He formed a mudra with his hands, his movements slow and solemn, but the air vibrated wherever his palms passed, carrying a vast and righteous power.

With a light sweep of his whisk, Guiyuan unleashed a wisp of pure energy, his figure moving like the wind. He stepped in the Bagua style, his movements elusive, like a willow catkin drifting in the wind, seemingly without any pattern, yet subtly conforming to the profound principle of the Dao's natural way.

Golden Buddhist light and azure pure energy collided in the center of the arena. There was no explosion, no roar, only a gentle fusion and confrontation.

The Buddha's light attempted to envelop Guiyuan, but Guiyuan's figure kept moving around in the pure energy, like a slippery eel in water.

The Guiyuan whisk swept towards Wangwo, but the Buddha's light protecting Wangwo completely neutralized the whisk's power, like a spring breeze brushing across a hillside, leaving no trace.

The two exchanged a hundred blows.

The match was a draw.

The audience watched intently, yet couldn't pinpoint what made it so captivating. The fight wasn't as earth-shattering as the previous ones, but possessed an indescribable mystery, like watching a silent dance.

Finally, after a hundred moves, the two stopped fighting at the same time.

With hands clasped in prayer, he said, "Fellow Daoist Guiyuan's Daoist techniques are exquisite; this humble monk is truly impressed."

Guiyuan lightly swept his whisk: "Young master, your Buddhist teachings are profound; I have also benefited greatly."

The two exchanged a smile and simultaneously took a step back.

"Let's call it a draw," Guiyuan said.

"Good." He nodded selflessly.

The two jumped off the ring at the same time and each took back their bets.

A strange murmur arose from the audience.

"That's it?"

"A draw? What exactly did they play?"

"I don't understand it... but it seems really impressive."

Master Liaoyin of Wanfo Temple nodded slightly, a hint of satisfaction flashing in his eyes.

Master Qingyuan of the Zhenwu Daoist sect lightly swept his whisk, a smile playing on his lips.

The voice of the King of the East Sea rang out: "Forget Self and Return to Origin, a draw. Both sides take back their bets."

"I'll do it!"

A red figure shot into the sky from the Weeping Blood Marquis's camp, like a burning flame, and landed heavily on the arena.

Dongfang Mingyue was dressed in a striking red outfit, her long hair tied high, and a crimson longsword hung at her waist—the superior-grade spiritual weapon she had obtained in the second trial. Her gaze, sharp as fire, swept across the entire arena, her voice clear and resonant:

"The Marquis's Mansion, bathed in blood; the Bright Moon of the East! Who dares to fight me?"

There was a moment of silence in the audience.

Then, a thin, black figure silently swept onto the arena and landed opposite Dongfang Mingyue.

Dugu Xin, dressed in black, with a cold and stern face, a slender sword hanging at his waist, stared expressionlessly at Dongfang Mingyue, his gaze like two stagnant pools of water.

"The Dugu family of Xizhou, Dugu Xin."

Dongfang Mingyue glanced at him, grinned, and said, "I've heard that the Dugu family's swordsmanship is known for its unpredictability? Perfect, I love fighting unpredictable opponents."

Dugu Xin did not reply, but simply drew his sword.

A flash of sword light.

A sword strike so fast it was almost invisible aimed straight at Dongfang Mingyue's heart.

Dongfang Mingyue's eyes sharpened. Without dodging or avoiding, she drew her long sword from her waist and slashed out.

Sunset Sword Technique: The Setting Sun is Like Blood!

The crimson sword light, like a setting sun, carrying intense heat, met Dugu Xin's treacherous sword.

"when!"

The two swords clashed, sparks flying.

Dugu Xin's sword was knocked away. He swayed, took three steps back using the force, and then pressed forward again. His swordsmanship was unpredictable and extremely tricky—sometimes he would thrust out from unexpected angles, sometimes the sword would change its trajectory in mid-air, and sometimes he would create three shadows with one sword, making it difficult to distinguish between reality and illusion.

The bright moon in the east remains serene and undaunted.

Her swordsmanship was simple and direct, without any fancy techniques, only an unstoppable momentum. Every strike was a frontal slash, wide and sweeping, like a blazing sun in the sky, ready to burn away all shadows.

When she unleashed the Sunset Sword Technique, it was less a sword technique and more a sea of ​​fire.

Dugu Xin's unpredictable sword struggled against the sea of ​​fire. Although his swordsmanship was strange, direct confrontation was not his forte. Each of Dongfang Mingyue's sword strikes carried a scorching heat, forcing him to retreat continuously.

Ten moves.

Twenty moves.

Thirty moves.

Dugu Xin retreated to the edge of the arena.

A resolute glint flashed in his eyes. He suddenly lowered his body, the tip of his sword touching the ground, and thrust it towards Dongfang Mingyue's abdomen from an extremely tricky angle.

This sword strike was extremely strange, like a venomous snake leaping out of the grass.

Dongfang Mingyue smiled.

Instead of retreating, she took a sudden step forward, raised her longsword high, and then slashed down with it.

She used all her strength in that sword strike.

The crimson sword light descended from the sky like a waterfall, carrying a world-destroying momentum, and struck Dugu Xin's sword directly.

"when--"

With a piercing clang of metal against metal, Dugu Xin's slender sword was forcefully bent into an arc, then flew out of his hand and stuck in the sand ten feet away.

Dugu Xin stood there empty-handed, his face slightly pale.

The tip of Dongfang Mingyue's sword stopped three inches in front of his throat, and the heat from the sword made his skin sting slightly.

"Admit defeat?" Dongfang Mingyue asked with a smile.

Dugu Xin was silent for a moment, then closed his eyes: "I concede."

Dongfang Mingyue sheathed his sword and clapped his hands: "Your swordsmanship is quite good, but your frontal attacks are too weak. Next time, practice your strength."

Dugu Xin opened his eyes, glanced at her, bent down to pick up his sword, and jumped off the stage without saying a word.

"The Eastern Bright Moon wins!" The voice of the King of the East Sea rang out.

A cheer erupted from the audience, especially from the guards of the Marquis of Weeping Blood's mansion, whose faces flushed with excitement.

"Young Miss is awesome!"

"The young lady is too strong!"

Dongfang Mingyue waved to the audience, made a face at her younger brother, and then jumped off the stage.

Ye Xingchen leaped onto the arena once again.

This time, his face was slightly paler than in the first match, indicating that he had consumed a lot of his inner energy, but his gaze remained calm.

"Ye Xingchen, a rogue cultivator, once again requests guidance."

Wu Zetian leaped up, sword on her shoulder, grinning, "Again? Aren't you tired?"

Ye Xingchen said calmly, "While we still can, let's play as many matches as possible."

"Alright, I'll go with you." Wu Zetian shoved her sword into the ground. "You go first, so no one can say I'm bullying you."

Ye Xingchen didn't stand on ceremony and pointed with one finger.

The force of his fingers was as sharp as a sword, aimed straight at Wu Zetian's shoulder.

Wu Zetian neither dodged nor evaded, but simply raised her arm and took the finger strike head-on.

"boom!"

The force of his fingers landed on her arm, producing a dull thud. Wu Zetian's arm trembled slightly, then returned to normal, without even breaking the skin.

Ye Xingchen's expression changed slightly.

Wu Zetian grinned: "Your finger strength is strong, but it can't break through my defense. Want to try again?"

Ye Xingchen took a deep breath and unleashed three consecutive finger strikes, each one sharper than the last, accompanied by a whistling sound as they aimed directly at Wu Zhao's chest, abdomen, and throat—three vital points.

Wu Zetian clapped her hands repeatedly, her palm winds like thunder, dispersing the three finger strikes one by one.

Then she moved.

She picked up the long sword stuck in the ground and slashed out—not at Ye Xingchen, but at the ground three feet in front of him.

"boom!"

A deep groove was carved into the stone surface of the arena, sending fragments of stone flying and creating a surging shockwave.

Ye Xingchen was thrown back three steps by the shockwave, his face turning pale.

He glanced down at the deep knife mark at his feet, remained silent for a moment, then cupped his hands and said, "Miss Wu's swordsmanship is unparalleled; I concede defeat."

Wu Zetian sheathed her sword and patted him on the shoulder: "You did well too. Next time, practice your defense, don't just focus on offense."

Ye Xingchen smiled slightly and jumped off the stage.

"Wu Zesheng." The voice of the King of the East Sea rang out.

The six matches lasted from early morning until the afternoon.

The sun rose high overhead from the east, scorching the beach. But no one left; everyone was captivated by the exciting battles unfolding.

Ye Xingchen broke the needle with her finger, and Murong Qiudi admitted defeat with resentment.

Wu Zetian crushed the demon with a single strike, and Li Tianxing knelt down in defeat.

Chu Yunxiao fought against four opponents single-handedly, and the Four Extremes Sword Masters were defeated and returned home empty-handed.

Selflessness and returning to the origin, Buddhism and Taoism clashing, a hundred moves ending in a draw.

The bright moon and raging fire of the East drive away evil spirits, and Dugu Xin, with his sword flying, admits defeat.

Wu Zetian fought Ye Xingchen again, splitting the heavens and earth with a single strike, and Ye Xingchen conceded defeat.

Each of the six matches was exciting and had its own highlights.

But everyone knew that the real show was yet to come.

The young man who had been sitting calmly and silently in the Weeping Blood Marquis's camp was the real protagonist today.

The only one in the East.