Chapter 22: Second Phase Start
The sun rose high above Mologan City, casting golden rays across the tiled rooftops and bustling streets. Flux returned to the inn, silent and focused, his thoughts swirling with formations, footwork, and fragments of half-mastered techniques. After a brief rest and one final round of quiet cultivation, the second phase of the Grand Tournament had arrived.
He stepped into the morning light. Festival flags snapped in the breeze. Market stalls overflowed with skewers, talismans, and glittering charms. Everywhere, voices buzzed with excitement.
"Did you hear? Crimson Vail's top disciple is in this round."
"I'm betting on that Xavier Reu guy—heard he fought off a dozen people during the trial."
"Someone broke through to the eighth level, I swear it!"
Flux met Ryo near the inn's gate. The Blue Mist disciple had swapped his travel gear for fresh robes—deep blue, trimmed with silver—the sect's mountain-and-mist emblem stitched proudly at the shoulder.
"Yo, Flux!" Ryo grinned, brushing his hair back. "You ready for the big stage?"
Flux nodded. "It's time."
They walked together down the bustling road. Cultivators from every corner of the continent moved through the city—some chatting nervously, others walking alone in silence. Above it all, the Skyfang Arena loomed like a dormant beast—its tall walls polished smooth, formation stones floating in a slow ring overhead, pulsing softly with protective Qi.
At the participant gate, uniformed attendants bowed and led them through a side corridor. Cool stone gave way to a vast inner chamber carved from smooth white jade, lanterns casting a soft glow across the waiting room. Stone benches lined the walls, already occupied by dozens of cultivators.
Tension hung in the air like mist before a storm. Some meditated, others murmured strategies or quietly refined their weapons.
Flux's gaze swept across the room.
Near the center sat the Blue Mist Mountain disciples, Xuan Bei among them—cross-legged, eyes closed, calm as moonlit water. A few nodded in quiet recognition as Flux and Ryo approached.
In the far corner, alone and still, sat Xavier Reu. Black robes flawless, arms crossed, gaze distant. The aura around him was heavy—like standing too close to a sword drawn halfway from its sheath.
Flux and Ryo claimed seats near the wall.
Moments later, a gray-robed elder entered. His hair was tied in a topknot, a jade badge pinned to his chest. His voice, calm and cutting, rose above the murmurs.
"Participants. Welcome to the second phase of the Mologan City Grand Tournament."
Silence fell.
"This phase will take place before a live audience. The rules are simple and absolute."
His gaze swept the room.
"No killing. No pills mid-battle. No outside interference. Matches end upon surrender or incapacitation. Violations will lead to immediate expulsion."
He paused, letting it settle.
"Each of you will receive a jade token containing your match number. Numbers may not be traded. Attempting to do so is grounds for disqualification."
Attendants moved through the room with trays, handing out engraved jade slips.
Ryo flipped his over and squinted. "Number eleven! Hah, I'm up early."
Flux examined his own. "Twenty-three."
Ryo chuckled. "Guess I'll warm up the crowd for you. Try not to fall asleep before your turn."
Flux smirked. "Ya good luck."
"Oh, I'm not just winning. I'm performing."
A distant bell chimed.
The first round had begun.
The hum of the crowd reached them even through thick stone walls. A projection array on the far wall flickered to life, revealing the Skyfang Arena in full—massive, open-air stands filled with cheering spectators. Barrier formations shimmered above the ring, encasing a wide, circular platform etched with ancient runes that glowed faintly beneath the morning sun.
---
First match: Gorun of the Iron Thunder Sect vs. Disciple of the Jade Rain Temple
A tall, broad-shouldered man entered the ring—Gorun, the same cultivator who had offered advice to Flux and Ryo days earlier. Lightning rippled faintly across his arms.
His opponent approached with grace—a disciple in flowing jade robes, poised like a scholar and silent as snowfall.
They bowed.
"Our sects meet again," said the Jade Rain disciple. "Our sect continue our years of rivalry?"
Gorun grinned and cracked his knuckles. "You mean the tradition where I win?"
The crowd laughed softly.
A hum rang through the arena.
The battle began.
Gorun erupted forward, each step shattering the stone underfoot. Lightning burst from his fists as he launched a volley of punches, each strike leaving thunderous shockwaves.
The Jade Rain cultivator reacted instantly, water blades forming in concentric circles, shimmering with shifting mist. The blades deflected and danced, slashing through the air like fish darting through currents.
Inside the waiting room, Ryo leaned in. "That's the guy who talked to us, yeah?"
Flux nodded. "Iron Thunder cultivators specialize in body refinement. They take hits like beasts."
A fierce exchange followed—Gorun barreling through mist screens, his muscles gleaming with thunder-forged Qi. The Jade Rain disciple tried to redirect his momentum, but Gorun's charge broke through the final layer of defense like a crashing wave.
One shoulder strike. A crash. The jade-robed disciple was hurled across the stage, rolling until he hit the barrier.
Victory declared.
Cheers erupted. Gorun raised a hand before leaving the field with a confident smirk.
---
Second match: Crimson Vail's Number 1 inner Disciple
A figure in crimson stepped into the ring. Her long blood-red hair drifted behind her, eyes cold as steel. She didn't bow.
Her opponent—a muscular cultivator from the southern plains—snorted and lowered into a stance.
Before he could move, blood-forged chains erupted from her sleeves, lashing forward like vipers. One wrapped around his arm. Another around his neck.
The crowd gasped.
With a flick of her wrist, he was slammed to the ground.
He groaned once.
Then didn't rise.
It had taken less than a minute.
Ryo blinked. "Right. I'm not fighting her."
Flux said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on the arena.
---
Eight match: Xuan Bei vs. Yori of the Night Lotus Pavilion
The crowd hushed as Xuan Bei walked calmly to the platform, his steps precise. Opposite him stood Yori—a graceful cultivator with midnight hair and a silver-lotus emblem at his chest.
Yori bowed. "Let's give the audience something memorable."
Xuan Bei returned it. "We shall."
At once, the ring filled with soundless tension.
Shadow petals bloomed around Yori as he vanished into mist, reappearing with a sweeping blade strike. Xuan Bei met it cleanly—his sword a gleam of silver starlight. Their blades sang as they danced, the clash of techniques forming a rhythm that silenced the crowd.
Lightning met shadow.
Petals versus precision.
They exchanged over a dozen strikes in seconds, moving so fast even the projection array blurred.
Minutes passed. Spectators leaned forward.
Then—a sudden pivot.
Xuan Bei stepped just inside a sweeping strike and, with a flick of the wrist, disarmed Yori. His blade hovered at Yori's throat.
"Victory to Xuan Bei!"
He walked back to the waiting area, unhurried.
Ryo let out a low whistle. "Still strong as I remember."
Flux's eyes followed Xuan Bei's return, the gears in his mind turning.
---
Eleventh match: Ryo Vercu vs. Rogue Cultivator
Ryo stood and cracked his neck. "Alright. Showtime."
Flux looked up. "Good luck."
"Haa... worry about my opponent."
The crowd greeted Ryo with polite applause as he stepped into the arena. His opponent—a scarred rogue in dark armor was nervous.
" Please go easy on me."
Ryo smiled. "Try not to blink."
The bell rang.
Lightning surged from Ryo's hands as his sword flicked forward in a spiral, light and force converging into a whirling crescent slash. The rogue lunged to meet it with brute strength, delivering a punch that shattered air.
Blow for blow, they exchanged moves—Ryo slipping in and out of range, the rogue hammering down with brutal swings.
Then—a shimmer.
Ryo vanished.
He reappeared behind his opponent with a grin and drove his blade forward. A clean strike to the back.
The rogue spun—too slow.
Another flash.
A kick to the side, then a sweeping arc that sent the rogue sprawling.
Cheers exploded.
The referee raised a hand.
"Victory to Ryo Vercu!"
He limped back into the chamber, sweat dripping down his brow. He flopped onto the bench beside Flux.
"Whew. That guy had hands like hammers. Almost ate dirt."
Flux gave a slight nod. "You did great."
Ryo grinned. "Dazzled, didn't I?"
Flux leaned back against the jade wall, gaze steady.
The battles continued.
.