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

Upon hearing this, Yang Jing gave a slight nod. ”In that case,” he said calmly, ”I’ll head up first and wait for them.”

The two disciples immediately stepped aside, gesturing for him to proceed. ”Senior Brother Yang, please,” they said in unison.

Without another word, Yang Jing started up the mountain path toward the summit of Feather Peak.

The path wasn’t steep. Lush vegetation flanked both sides, and morning dew clung to the leaves, trembling slightly with his every step. The crisp scent of plants and soil filled the air.

Sun Ningxiang stood at the base of the peak, watching Yang Jing’s receding figure as he ascended the mountain path one step at a time. Her delicate brows furrowed slightly, and an undeniable tension crept into her expression.

Over the past few days, she had heard numerous rumors about the sect’s top prospect. She knew that once someone secured that position, the sect would pour all of its core resources into their development.

From Elixirs and Cultivation Techniques to Cultivation Sites, everything would be of the absolute highest tier.

If Yang Jing lost this contest against Chu Yunhai, he would still receive significant support from the sect, but it would be a world of difference compared to the resources lavished on the top prospect.

It was like the martial examinations. The one whose name became legendary, passed down by word of mouth, was always the Martial Champion Scholar—the one who took first place.

As for who came in second, few people cared, and even fewer remembered.

It was the same within the sect. No matter how talented a disciple was, if they weren’t the absolute best, the most crucial and scarce resources would never be fully invested in them.

Sun Ningxiang knew that Yang Jing had been training harder than ever these past few days, practicing from dawn until deep into the night. He clearly placed immense importance on this contest for the top prospect.

If he ultimately failed, he would surely be dejected and disappointed, filled with regret for the missed opportunity.

At this thought, Sun Ningxiang’s palm tightened. She grew even more anxious for Yang Jing, praying he could secure this crucial position.

Just then, several figures appeared one after another beside Sun Ningxiang. It was Lin Ziheng, Fang He, Yan Chenglong, and the others.

They too had been closely following the contest, but they worried that appearing together would put unnecessary pressure on Yang Jing. So they had followed in secret, only daring to reveal themselves after he had ascended Feather Peak.

The group stood beside Sun Ningxiang, their gazes all fixed on the summit of Feather Peak, their expressions a similar mix of anticipation and tension.

Lin Ziheng gazed at the path winding deep into Feather Peak, lost in silent contemplation.

’This contest for top prospect between Yang Jing and Chu Yunhai is far more than a simple duel. Countless eyes throughout the entire Xuanzhen Sect are watching.’

After all, Lin Ziheng knew for a fact that his own father and numerous Elders from his clan were watching this contest for the top prospect.

...

「Atop Feather Peak.」

Following the gentle mountain path, Yang Jing soon reached the summit.

The summit opened into a wide, cleared plaza, a small square dozens of yards across. It was paved with smooth, clean bluestone slabs.

The plaza was currently empty. The sect had clearly cleared the area for the top prospect’s assessment, preventing any disturbances from outsiders so the two contestants could focus without distraction.

Yang Jing found a clean stone in the center of the plaza and sat down cross-legged. Closing his eyes, he began to slowly regulate his breathing and spiritual state.

He circulated his Inner Qi, stabilizing the flow of qi and blood throughout his body. He settled his mind and discarded all stray thoughts. As he waited for Chu Yunhai and Chief Elder Ouyang Jingxuan to arrive, he brought himself to his peak condition, ready for the impending assessment.

Before long, the soft but steady sound of footsteps from the direction of the path broke the summit’s tranquility.

Hearing the sound, Yang Jing slowly opened his eyes. A sharp glint flashed within them as he looked toward the source of the footsteps.

A figure in black robes, Chu Yunhai, was walking leisurely up the path. His posture was ramrod straight, his gait unhurried, and he exuded an air of innate arrogance and confidence.

He immediately spotted the cross-legged Yang Jing. As their eyes met, Chu Yunhai offered a faint smile and a nod. Though he said nothing, his expression radiated an unshakeable, deep-seated confidence.

Yang Jing gave a slight nod in return.

Chu Yunhai strode onto the plaza and stopped a few paces from Yang Jing. Clasping his hands behind his back, he fixed his gaze on him, his expression turning serious. ”The Xuanzhen Sect’s top prospect will be me,” he declared. ”I will win this assessment. There will be no more draws.”

At his words, the corner of Yang Jing’s mouth curved into a faint smile. He shook his head gently, his voice calm but firm. ”We’ll see.”

Chu Yunhai was taken aback for a moment, then burst into a hearty laugh. His clear voice echoed across the summit. ”HA HA HA! Excellent! Worthy of the man who fought me to a draw. You truly have spirit. I, Chu Yunhai, admire you!”

He looked at Yang Jing and said, ”Regardless of this assessment’s outcome, let’s have a true rematch in two months at the Fushan Battle Platform. What do you say?”

Seeing the fighting spirit in his eyes, Yang Jing’s smile widened. He nodded without hesitation. ”Deal.”

Yang Jing was finally starting to see. Chu Yunhai had mentioned wanting another match on the Fushan Battle Platform more than once.

It now seemed that their draw in the Fushan Grand Tournament finals had become a fixation for him—a knot in his heart he couldn’t untie.