The Dynasty of Cultivating Immortality

Chapter 38



C38 – The Helplessness of the Judge

The heat wave in the arena slowly faded, revealing the figures of the two women.

It was a clash devoid of finesse, and it had taken its toll on both of them.

Ni Shang found herself at the edge of the arena, nearly ejected by the force. She was gasping for air, her hand pressed against her chest as she struggled to steady her racing heart and quivering body.

Her wooden sword remained gripped in her hand, the tip marred by a charred scar that was startling to behold. Wisps of white smoke still curled from the blade.

She cast a glance at the sword, her expression a mix of shock and relief.

Ni Yirong, on the other hand, was faring much worse.

She remained where she was, her hair in disarray, her clothing tattered.

Her once formidable red wooden sword had been reduced to nothing but a hilt, blackened as if retrieved from a fire, exuding a scent of char.

Her right sleeve, which had held the sword, was gone, exposing swathes of her smooth, white skin.

Blood trickled down her slender arm, gathering at her fingertips before dripping to the ground.

On the high platform, Ni Xianjian rose abruptly, his face etched with concern.

Apart from Ni Situo and Ni Huibo, Yirong was among the strongest of the family’s younger generation, blessed with exceptional talent. Her injuries naturally caused a surge of anxiety.

“She shouldn’t have sustained such severe injuries,” he murmured, squinting at the scene below, his face creased with confusion. “Yirong’s strength should surpass Ni Shang’s. How could she be so hurt from a mere collision?”

As his words faded, Yirong, still on the stage, lifted her head with great effort.

​”Perhaps I overestimated myself?” she mused bitterly, glancing at Ni Shang, who looked on with tense concern before collapsing.

“Ni Shang wins!”

The referee’s voice boomed as he dashed forward, catching Yirong in his arms and swiftly carrying her off the stage.

“How could this be? What just happened?”

“Don’t ask me—I’m clueless.”

“Did Yirong really lose? And to lose so decisively?”

The crowd erupted into a buzz of confusion. The young disciples stared at the unconscious Ni Yirong and then at Ni Shang, who had barely a scratch on her. Disbelief was evident in their eyes.

And it wasn’t just them; many of the elders were just as baffled.

The two sisters’ strengths were supposed to be comparable. There shouldn’t be such a vast disparity. Ni Yirong had passed out, yet Ni Shang was merely catching her breath.

“Silence, everyone! Let’s continue with the match!” Ni Xianjian’s timely shout brought calm to the commotion.

The area fell quiet immediately, a testament to the respect they had for the second-level late-period patriarch.

Ni Xianjian surveyed the crowd coolly. Seeing that he had quelled the unrest, he swiftly leaped down from the platform to Ni Yirong’s side.

“These sisters are quite formidable.”

Ni Yong, observing Ni Shang still lost in thought, offered his heartfelt commendation.

Ni Huibo nodded in agreement.

Based on their recent display, his chances of defeating either sister seemed slim. They had a solid grasp of their cultivation methods, capable of unleashing considerable power.

In contrast, his own understanding of the Clear Sight was only rudimentary. The gap between them was more pronounced than he cared to admit.

“The might of the cultivation method is profound and unpredictable. Clearly, I need to redouble my efforts. To grow stronger, I must push myself even harder.”

Ni Huibo silently admonished himself, his gaze steely with resolve.

While he was reflecting, the referee returned to the center of the arena. He glanced at Ni Shang, who was still in a trance, and spoke gently, “Ni Shang, take a break. There are more bouts ahead.”

Startled by his words, Ni Shang snapped out of her reverie.

​She cast a complex look at the black hilt lying on the ground nearby, a silent testament to her inexplicable victory. Though puzzled by her unexpected win, she knew she had to focus on the upcoming challenges and reluctantly exited the arena.

​The referee let out a sigh, a hint of regret in his eyes before he looked away. However, he soon caught sight of two individuals who were still earnestly deferring to each other.

“Brother, please, you make the first move.”

“No, after you.”

​They echoed their earlier sentiments, seemingly engaged in a comical routine, yet their expressions were dead serious. The referee’s face darkened as he glanced between them, then strode over and bellowed, “What’s going on with you two? Everyone else has finished their bouts, and you haven’t even started. Do you intend to settle this with a debate?”

Ni Yong’s face flushed with embarrassment upon hearing this, and he hastily replied, “No, that’s not it. I simply wanted to give you the honor of striking first.”

“That won’t do. The teachings say we must be humble. Please, you go ahead!”

……

The referee was at a loss for words as he observed the pair. He felt the urge to erupt in anger, but since both had valid points, he resorted to a more diplomatic approach. “Alright, I’ll count to three, and then you both make your move simultaneously.”

“Excellent suggestion!”

“Indeed, very well.”

​Ni Huibo nodded, stepped back, and aimed his wooden sword straight ahead. Ni Yong, not to be outdone, shed his previously timid demeanor. As he lifted his wooden sword, a fierce momentum surged forth.

Blessed with a medium grade talent at level three, he was even more gifted than Ni Shang, but due to certain external factors, he had temporarily fallen behind in his cultivation. Nevertheless, the gap was minimal, and he was now on the cusp of achieving Great Perfection in the late period of the first level.

Facing him, Ni Huibo grew wary. The aura emanating from Ni Yong was nearly indistinguishable from Ni Shang’s. Relying solely on the power of the first level, Ni Huibo wasn’t overly confident in securing a victory.

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

​As the final count was called, Ni Yong launched forward like an arrow from a bow. In terms of sheer speed, even Ni Shang might not compare. He had nearly attained the second level, vastly exceeding the peak capabilities of the average person.

“A cultivation method focused on speed!”

Ni Huibo made a split-second decision. Without the aid of a cultivation method, it was impossible for someone at the first level to achieve such speed.

His eyes narrowed, focusing intently on Ni Yong’s movements. Meanwhile, his wooden sword traced a peculiar arc before he fiercely brought it down in a slashing motion.

​”Brother, be careful,” Ni Yong warned. As he advanced, his body swayed deceptively. With a few feints, he was suddenly at Ni Huibo’s side.

The wooden sword in Ni Yong’s grasp carried a piercing sharpness as it thrust toward Ni Huibo. It was straightforward and exceedingly fast.

Ni Huibo failed to react immediately. By the time he noticed the wooden sword, its tip was already looming before him.

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