The stadium was filled with unrelenting energy from the rowdy, hollering crowd spectating from the stands. Shrieks of laughter and protest mixed in with the war cries from contenders down in their respective battle rings highlighted the excitement sparking in the air. Countless disciples had fallen down to their knees in the face of a stronger foe since yesterday; a natural order to the way of the martial arts. It was by no means a shock, as many had observed the winners puffing their chests with a pride that only beings at the ninth grade of Skin Refinement could possess. Most of them had been on a roll; winning their bouts continuously up until the tenth streak. After all, it must have been an easy brawl since the masters were not fated to meet early in the game, as per Zenith's veiled rule of the tournament.
The superiors had arranged the combats to be battles of the fittest. Ineligible competitors were successfully weeded out on the first day, amassing to a jarring number of one hundred victors to compete next until fifty stood on top of the rankings.
Regulations stayed consistent all throughout the event. Candidates were expected to fight ten rounds with the goal of accumulating marks in every round, and the one who scored highest would be granted the name of the champion.
All in all, the challengers that now stood confidently in the middle of the massive arena were the products of the bloody system; the esteemed predators of the whole sect.
They were an elite group composed of varying individuals at the eighth or ninth grade of Skin Refinement, emitting loud, intimidating auras that muted the deafening noise coming from almost-sore throats of adrenaline-pumped onlookers. The heated atmosphere further pronounced the mass hysteria sweeping over the place. Judging by the overwhelming response of the public, today's match would certainly be a legendary sight to behold;
an awaited massacre of rivals until only fifty, rightful kings remained.
Time passed, and soon, nine rounds of battles were to meet its end.
The top ten outer disciples breezed through their scuffles, nonchalantly acquiring triumph after triumph, having not encountered any powerful nemesis to wreck their balance. If it were not for the unfortunate exception of Jim and Dustin's death by hand of Ricky, their title as the ten would have not been reduced to eight.
On the other hand, a flurry of powerful attacks unleashed by Ricky pranced in time with the cheers of masses. He acted unbothered as he effectively blew his opponents away from him like annoying pests foolishly clinging to his skin. His display of unmitigated prowess led to his predictable success. Much like the venerated disciples, he too, had won his share of skirmishes. He poised with a calmness and elegance only confidence could bring, and the entirety of Snow Sect knew that it was not baseless. They had put enough faith in his proficiency to believe that he could single-handedly defeat any outer disciple that dares to challenge him. Only a few would choose to be blinded by sheer bias and judgment to see his clear potential, and some thirsted for him to be leading a bigger picture for the nearing future.
Zenith and the Elders fell on the latter category; they had high hopes for Ricky for the explicit reason of their greed needing someone like him in every sect.
Ultimately, geniuses of his level were notably hard to come by. A few had cut it close, much like the emergence of a sudden dark horse by the name of Edgar Li.
He was exceedingly good and a talent that would perhaps be viewed as a rarity by most. But, ones with keen eyes would have known right away that Edgar Li was just an average, ordinary outer disciple before.
Not to demean his undeniable growth; he had surel
Ricky blocked another ruthless attempt to break his cover. He gritted his teeth, growing exasperated, "Fine, if your faction is so proud of your own cultivation method, I will defeat you using the same method today!" He exclaimed, rushing to meet Jarvis head-on. For a brief moment, Jarvis had been caught off guard. Still, he did not waver and instead let a manic grin mar his face as he welcomed Ricky's counter.
Mirroring his cruel smile, Ricky's fist collided with the other
with a more powerful pressure compared to their first contact in the battle. It shook the arena, causing vibrations to travel through metal and tremors to encourage the fall of multiple debris onto the unsuspecting audience. Small tornados sprung from where they were in reaction to the oppression of the air. Their fight had the gravity of an incoming cyclone, outshining even the brewing hurricane from above.
They both stood firmly, their feet were able to keep their balance with the deep trench and their legs dug into the land. With a steady gaze and a deep intake of breath, their skirmish had migrated into the air as they jumped high, their punches and kicks entangled in a violent exchange. Each attack had been packed with a power that reverberated upon contiguity, producing a metallic sound akin to a bass hitting its lowest possible note.
None of them were unscathed; with the amount of bruises and wounds Jarvis had inflicted on Ricky, he also attained.
They were incomprehensible to amateur eyes, too nimble to be seen in normal circumstances. However, the disciples incessantly shouted their praises and cries of thrill and elation.
It was a merciless competition, but it served as material to nostalgia to some like the four Elders and Zenith who were reminded of their youthful days.
A resounding boom echoed throughout the enclosure once again, as Ricky and Jarvis dealt a final blow to the other's shoulder and chest before they separated in retreat.
They landed back on solid terrain, a slight stumble ruining their otherwise seamless landings. Their loathing boiled and seeped through the way they glowered, both swiping an angry hand at the blood gushing out of the corner of their lips.
Commentaries were traded by the populace at the spectacle, hailing and admiring their unmatched toughness, "Ricky's truly on par with the top ten outer disciples! This is really exciting!" Zenith beamed, influenced by the intoxicating energy, "This is just the beginning. It's bound to get better from now on."