Rise in the Martial Chaos: Starting From a Martial Arts School

At first, the vast majority of disciples didn’t think much of this unknown newcomer. But as Yang Jing racked up one clean victory after another, more and more people began to support him without even realizing it.

Many disciples clenched their fists, hoping Yang Jing would advance to the higher stages, perhaps even breaking into the top four or contending for the top three.

This was something many of them had only dreamed of achieving. Before, it was a fantasy they only dared to entertain in their idle moments, but today, it was playing out right before their eyes.

At the front of the crowd, Sun Ningxiang’s eyes sparkled as if they held starlight, her gaze fixed on Yang Jing as he stepped down from the platform.

As a chorus of praise rose and fell around her, she couldn’t stop a wide smile from spreading across her face. A honey-sweet feeling bloomed in her heart.

...

Meanwhile, as soon as Li Mao stepped off the platform, a disciple from Thunder Peak came over to console him. ”Senior Brother Li, it’s okay. You were just careless for a moment. You’ll get a chance to even the score next time!”

But Li Mao waved a hand, his face showing no dejection. Instead, a look of acceptance settled over him. ”A loss is a loss. There’s nothing to excuse. Yang Jing’s strength is far greater than mine. It was a fair defeat.”

...

Over at the area designated for the disciples of Lingxi Peak, Steward Zheng greeted Yang Jing with a wide smile the moment he returned. He clapped him firmly on the shoulder and declared in a booming voice, ”Good lad! A beautiful victory! Taking on an Iron Rod bare-handed to advance to the third round—you’ve truly brought honor to our Lingxi Peak!”

Yang Jing grinned and scratched his head, replying humbly, ”It’s all thanks to the excellent guidance of my elders. I was just lucky.”

Steward Zheng roared with laughter at his words, his gaze on Yang Jing filled with ever-increasing satisfaction.

He recalled how he had personally given Yang Jing pointers on the Mountain-Shattering Fist. Seeing him achieve so much now, a sense of accomplishment swelled within him. ’It’s as if I’m sharing in his glory,’ he thought.

Zhang Hengyi and Chen Xuexiang also hurried forward to congratulate Yang Jing with a cupped-fist salute.

They had both been eliminated in the round of eighteen, yet Yang Jing had advanced triumphantly into the top nine.

Now, when they looked at Yang Jing, the respect they held for him before was tinged with a deep, genuine admiration.

After that, the Cyan Qilin Battle continued to proceed in an orderly fashion.

The whistle of fierce techniques and the clang of colliding weapons on the platforms wove together into a stirring battle hymn.

Yang Jing exchanged a few words with Zhang Hengyi and Zhao Xuexiang, then moved a few steps away to find a spot with an unobstructed view. He fixed his gaze on the Cyan Qilin Platform, focusing intently on the eighth match, which was about to begin.

’In my opinion,’ he thought, ’none of the disciples who made it to the top sixteen are pushovers.’

’Anyone who gets on that platform could be my next opponent. Only by understanding these potential rivals can I seize the advantage in future fights.’

The two combatants in the eighth match were Wei Dongting of the Main Peak and Shen Yurong of Yunxi Peak.

Shen Yurong wielded a longsword, her Body Technique nimble and graceful. Her blade flashed like a bolt of white silk, each strike aimed directly at Wei Dongting’s vital points.

Wei Dongting, however, was bare-fisted. His palms flew through the air, faintly echoing with the sound of wind and thunder—a sign he had mastered the Fiery Sun Palm to perfection.

They traded blows for more than fifty moves until Wei Dongting finally proved his superior skill. He struck the flat of Shen Yurong’s blade with his palm, the force of the blow splitting the webbing of her hand and making her drop her sword. She had no choice but to concede.

Standing beside Yang Jing, Zhang Hengyi and Chen Xuexiang watched in awe, beginning to murmur amongst themselves.

”That Wei Dongting... his strength is likely second only to Yuwen Mingjue and Zhao Chong,” Zhang Hengyi remarked, narrowing his eyes. His voice was filled with admiration. ”Judging by the power of those palm strikes, he’s probably on par with Qin Wenbao. This year’s Cyan Qilin Battle is truly full of hidden masters.”

Chen Xuexiang nodded in profound agreement, a flicker of envy in his eyes. ’If only I had that kind of strength,’ he thought, ’I’d have no trouble making a name for myself in the sect.’

Next came the final match of the second round: Jiang Lin of Celestial Derivation Peak versus Zhu Liang of Fen Yang Peak.

Jiang Lin specialized in fast-sword techniques, his blade striking like lightning. Zhu Liang, however, focused on body-hardening arts, his physique as tough as iron. Their fighting styles were diametrically opposed, like spear against shield.

Amid flashes of sword light, several gashes of varying depths appeared on Zhu Liang’s body, while Jiang Lin was struck several times by Zhu Liang’s heavy fists, causing blood to trickle from the corner of his mouth.

The fight was exceptionally brutal. They exchanged over a hundred moves before Jiang Lin finally seized an opening—the precise moment when Zhu Liang’s old force was spent and his new one had yet to rise. A single thrust to the shoulder was all it took for Jiang Lin to clinch a hard-won victory.

The victor, Jiang Lin, leaned on his longsword, gasping for breath. His robes were soaked through with blood and his face was pale; he had clearly sustained heavy injuries.

With that, all nine matches of the second round were complete, and the roster for the top nine of the Cyan Qilin Battle was finalized.

In an instant, the noise around the Cyan Qilin Platform subsided. All the disciples’ eyes gradually turned toward the judges’ area at the side of the arena.

According to the rules of the Cyan Qilin Battle, after each round, the Main Peak Elders would re-evaluate the disciples’ rankings based on their performance in the arena. These new rankings would then be used to determine the matchups for the next round.

After about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the Elders in the judging area finally concluded their discussion. The white-bearded Elder in the lead nodded to the Main Peak Steward below.

The Main Peak Steward responsible for overseeing the competition understood immediately. He bowed respectfully to the Elders, then turned and strode toward the Cyan Qilin Platform.

Sunlight cast down on him, stretching his shadow long across the ground. Everyone held their breath, their eyes tracking his every move as they awaited the announcement of the top nine’s rankings.