Chapter Fourteen: Thank You, Senior Brother, for Letting Me Make Three Moves

Second Round Match: Zhou Qi faced Kuang Wei, the cultivator from Lingji Cave—the same disciple who had ambushed and defeated She Yicheng. Kuang Wei’s prior victory had come through a sneak attack, and many doubted his strength. If the battle had been fair, he might not have bested She Yicheng.

Now, facing Zhou Qi, who was two levels beneath him at the seventh stage of Qi Refinement, Kuang Wei resolved to fight honorably. It would be shameful to resort to tricks when a cultivator at the ninth stage fought one at the seventh.

Zhou Qi stepped onto the platform in silence, causing Liu Piaopiao to watch with deep concern, silently praying for his safety. She considered urging Zhou Qi to forfeit, but that wasn’t an option for him—otherwise, there was little point in expanding the number of spots for the Qi Refinement stage.

“I won’t bully you,” Kuang Wei declared magnanimously. “I’ll let you take three moves. After the third, I’ll end this.”

“Is Kuang Wei trying to save face? What’s the point of letting someone weaker by two stages take three moves?” someone in the crowd remarked.

“Pretending to be generous, but picking the softest target—pathetic!” sneered another.

The disciples from the Gate of Life and Death chatted among themselves, caring little for Kuang Wei’s intentions or what Lingji Cave thought. Their words brought color to Kuang Wei’s face, but having spoken, he could hardly take the offer back without humiliating himself.

“Thank you for your kindness, Senior Brother!” Zhou Qi replied without pretense. If Kuang Wei wished to appear magnanimous, Zhou Qi saw no reason to refuse.

He cast Blazing Flame Art, conjuring a huge fireball and hurling it at Kuang Wei. Kuang Wei dodged deftly, calling out, “That’s the first move.”

The fireball missed its mark. Without pause, Zhou Qi unleashed the Wind Blade Art—three blades forming a triangle streaked toward Kuang Wei. Sensing that wasn’t enough, and not wishing to disrespect Kuang Wei’s gesture, Zhou Qi added: Heaven-Splitting Sword. His flying sword, infused with a thread of spiritual consciousness, followed the wind blades, aimed straight at Kuang Wei’s throat.

Kuang Wei dodged the wind blades and prepared to parry the flying sword with his own, but to his shock, Zhou Qi’s sword curved in midair and still went for his throat. Horror dawned too late—he retreated, but the sword was faster, plunging into his throat before he could escape.

Kuang Wei collapsed, staring in disbelief at the sword embedded in his neck.

Zhou Qi felt a thread of spiritual sense slip away, as if he had lost something precious. The Heaven-Splitting Sword had drained much of his spiritual energy, leaving him pale and hollow.

Trembling, he rose and bowed solemnly to Kuang Wei’s corpse. “Thank you, Senior Brother, for letting me take three moves!”

The crowd fell silent, glancing between Zhou Qi—standing—and Kuang Wei, lifeless on the ground. Those who had mocked Kuang Wei for picking on someone weaker found themselves speechless; who would have thought he’d end up sprawled on the earth?

Another one who courted disaster—why put on such airs, only to lose your life?

The betting disciple from the Gate of Life and Death turned ashen. If Zhou Qi kept up this streak, he’d owe four thousand spirit stones. Though he might cheat Zhou Qi out of his winnings, doing so would ruin his reputation and future business.

Zhou Qi’s victory thrilled the remaining disciples of Zhengyi Sect—they had never expected such an outcome. Liu Piaopiao was convinced her prayers had been answered; surely heaven had shown mercy.

Back at his seat, Wu Xingwen handed Zhou Qi a pile of Spirit-Returning Pills, knowing Zhou Qi had depleted himself with the Heaven-Splitting Sword and needed to recover, or he’d risk death in the next match.

Kuang Wei’s death infuriated the elders of Lingji Cave, but now Zhou Qi had advanced to the third round. Cultivators from all sects warned their remaining disciples: If you face Zhou Qi, do not underestimate him—fight with everything you have, and make sure he never leaves the arena.

Zhou Qi understood that the coming battles would be even fiercer. He swallowed the Spirit-Returning Pills, borrowed another two hundred spirit stones from Liu Piaopiao, and began circulating Zhengyi Sect’s cultivation method to absorb energy.

He hadn’t expected the aftereffects of the Heaven-Splitting Sword to be so severe. Unless it was a matter of life and death, he could never use it lightly again; even if he killed his enemy, he might end up a fool himself.

Alas, time was not on his side. If only he had more time to recover! The remaining matches of the second round concluded quickly, leaving five contenders for the third round—one of whom would get a bye.

If only he could draw the bye—he’d have more time to regain his strength. But the odds were only one in five, and the remaining four eyed him with open hostility.

As the draw began, Liu Piaopiao prayed once more, hoping Zhou Qi would get a pass. While it meant one less victory, their concern was not with winning or losing, but with Zhou Qi’s survival. Every extra moment to recover increased his chance to live.

Whether it was Liu Piaopiao’s prayers or Zhou Qi’s own luck, he did indeed draw the bye.

The cultivators from the other four sects gnashed their teeth in frustration. Zhou Qi smiled sheepishly, cupped his hands in apology, and continued to quietly restore his spiritual energy.

The other four fought fiercely, resulting in two more being seriously injured and forced to withdraw. Including Zhou Qi, three participants remained: the peak Qi Refinement cultivator from Lingji Cave, and a ninth-stage cultivator from Immortal Farmer’s Garden.

This time, luck did not favor Zhou Qi completely, but neither did it abandon him. He was matched against the Immortal Farmer’s Garden cultivator.

The Lingji Cave crowd cursed their luck; the bye had cost them a chance at victory.

The Immortal Farmer’s Garden cultivator was named Jing Ziping, a ninth-stage Qi Refiner. He was no weakling, having fought his way here. Facing Zhou Qi, he was vigilant—Zhou Qi’s two unlikely victories proved he was not to be underestimated. Under orders from his sect, Jing Ziping was determined to win.

Jing Ziping’s spiritual weapon was a thick-backed bronze saber, which he wielded with formidable power. Zhou Qi relied on his Five Elements Step to evade every blow, only parrying with his sword when absolutely necessary, feeling the force threatening to wrench the weapon from his grasp.

He had to keep his distance, launching fireballs to disrupt Jing Ziping’s offense. But his opponent pressed no advantage, the saber’s arcs flawless and impenetrable.

Suddenly, a powerful arc of saber light cleaved toward Zhou Qi. He dodged with all his might, but another arc followed, then another—one after another in relentless succession.

Zhou Qi darted left and right, but finally one blade caught him in the chest, hurling him dozens of meters. If his Gold-Threaded Garment hadn’t absorbed some of the blow, he would have been cut in two.

Lying on the ground, his chest throbbing with pain, Zhou Qi feigned grave injury, planning to strike while Jing Ziping’s guard was down. But Jing Ziping was cautious, remaining at a distance and sending wave after wave of saber light.

With no other choice, Zhou Qi rose and resumed his evasive steps, weaving the Shadow Step into the Five Elements Step. In an instant, he appeared behind Jing Ziping, his sword already thrusting at the man’s back.

Jing Ziping stared in disbelief at the blade piercing his chest. Even in death, he could not fathom how a mere Qi Refiner had suddenly appeared behind him.

As Jing Ziping fell, Zhou Qi poured every Spirit-Returning Pill he had into his mouth.