The referee's voice echoed across the arena once more: “Next match of the Top Ten Tournament: Song Mu versus Chu Zhixun!”
As the words fell, two figures swept onto the arena almost simultaneously.
The person on the left was dressed in black martial attire. His figure was as upright as a pine tree, his face cold and stern, and he exuded a steady, restrained aura. It was Chu Zhixun.
In his hand, he held a pitch-black longsword. Its blade was ancient, with faint dark red patterns flowing across it like a slumbering beast.
The person on the right was dressed in clothes as white as snow, his long hair tied back. With sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, he possessed a cold, ethereal temperament. He did not hold a sword, standing instead with his hands behind his back as a faint silver halo hovered around him. It was Song Mu.
The two were similar in age and equivalent in cultivation, both being highly anticipated top geniuses of this tournament.
“Brother Chu, I have long looked forward to meeting you,” Song Mu spoke first, his voice clear and resonant, like clashing jade.
“You are too polite,” Chu Zhixun nodded slightly. His tone was flat, but his grip on his sword tightened.
Seeing that both had taken their positions, the referee said in a deep voice, “Begin!”
Before the echo of the referee's voice could fade, Chu Zhixun was already in motion.
Flashing forward, he transformed into a black afterimage and instantly appeared before Song Mu. The black sword pierced straight toward Song Mu's chest with a piercing screech of clashing air, its momentum fierce and filled with an unyielding determination.
Song Mu had anticipated this. With a slight tilt of his body, he easily dodged the thrust. Raising his right hand, a silver sword qi condensed at his fingertips, and he slashed back at Chu Zhixun.
Missing his strike, Chu Zhixun did not panic. With a flick of his wrist, his black sword swept horizontally, dispersing the silver sword qi.
At the same time, his footwork shifted, and his figure glided like a ghost to Song Mu's side, thrusting his sword out once more.
Song Mu frowned slightly. He had not expected Chu Zhixun's swordplay to be so fierce. Every move was lethal, leaving him absolutely no room to breathe.
Not daring to be careless, he flashed back repeatedly while forming hand seals. The silver halo around him flared brilliantly, transforming into streams of silver sword intent that shot toward Chu Zhixun.
Chu Zhixun snorted coldly and violently thrust his black sword into the ground. The dark red patterns instantly lit up as a violent, baleful aura erupted from his body, shattering all the oncoming silver sword qi.
Song Mu's expression remained unchanged. He pressed his hands together, and a massive silver sword shadow materialized behind him, exuding a heart-palpitating pressure.
Chu Zhixun's pupils contracted slightly; he could feel the terrifying power contained within the sword shadow.
Not daring to let his guard down in the slightest, he gripped the hilt with both hands. The spiritual energy within his body surged frantically, making the dark red patterns on the black sword glow even brighter as a colossal wave of spiritual energy soared into the sky.
“Go!”
Chu Zhixun bellowed, transforming into a streak of black light as he charged straight toward the massive silver sword shadow.
“Boom!”
With a deafening roar, the black light and the silver sword shadow clashed violently, exploding in a blinding radiance.
A tempest of spiritual energy swept across the entire arena, causing the protective barrier around the stage to shake violently.
As the light faded, both of them retreated several paces, their faces pale.
A tiny crack had appeared on Chu Zhixun's black sword, and the silver sword shadow behind Song Mu had dimmed considerably.
“Brother Chu is indeed formidable,” Song Mu said, looking at Chu Zhixun with a flash of admiration in his eyes.
“You are not bad either,” Chu Zhixun replied, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. His tone remained flat, but the fighting intent in his eyes burned even hotter.
The two faced off once more, the air thick with tension.
This time, Song Mu struck first. He flashed forward, transforming into a streak of white light that instantly appeared before Chu Zhixun, throwing a palm strike.
The wind from his palm was fierce, carrying a powerful wave of spiritual energy.
Neither dodging nor retreating, Chu Zhixun thrust his black sword forward, its tip pointing directly at the center of Song Mu's palm.
A loud clang echoed as Chu Zhixun's black sword collided with Song Mu's palm, bursting with brilliant sparks.
Chu Zhixun felt a massive force surge through him, numbing the web of his thumb and forefinger as he was forced backward. Song Mu, however, remained completely motionless, merely knitting his brows slightly.
“Your sword is not fast enough,” Song Mu said flatly.
Chu Zhixun snorted coldly, a ruthless gleam flashing in his eyes. “Then try this strike! Crimson Ashes Scorching the Plains—”
Chu Zhixun bellowed as his body transformed into a streak of crimson light, carrying majestic spiritual energy as he charged straight at Song Mu. He poured all his spiritual energy into this single strike, determined to end it with a killing blow.
A solemn look flashed in Song Mu's eyes. He formed hand seals, and a massive silver shield of light condensed in front of him.
“Boom!”
The crimson light and the silver light shield clashed violently, erupting in a deafening explosion.
The wild waves of spiritual energy swept across the area, and the protective barrier around the arena finally reached its limit, shattering with a loud crash.
As the light dispersed, both of them were sent flying backward, crashing heavily onto the edges of the arena.
The black sword in Chu Zhixun's hand had snapped into two. He was covered in blood, his aura completely depleted.
Song Mu was in no better shape; his white clothes were stained with blood, his face was as pale as paper, and a trail of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth.
Chu Zhixun struggled to stand, only to find that his spiritual energy was entirely depleted, leaving him without the strength to fight.
Song Mu barely managed to stand, propping himself up with his sword—
Seeing this, the referee immediately flew forward and announced in a deep voice, “Song Mu wins!”
The crowd erupted into an uproar. In this highly anticipated showdown, the two had been almost evenly matched—
Song Mu and Chu Zhixun exchanged a look, both seeing a trace of reluctance and relief in each other's eyes.
“We will fight again next time,” Song Mu said flatly, wiping the blood from his lips.
“Alright,” Chu Zhixun nodded, turning to be helped down from the arena.
Under the gaze of the crowd, Song Mu also limped down from the stage.
The system's light screen flickered after Song Mu and Chu Zhixun's match ended, showing that the current tournament quest progress had reached ninety percent.
She was about to close it when a new line of text popped up immediately after: 【Additional Quest Released: During the finals, say the line “Genius is merely the threshold to meet me” to your opponent. Quest Reward: Premium Draw Ticket × 5.】
Lin Zhiyue stared at the words for a moment, confirming that she hadn't misread them.
Lin Zhiyue's forehead creased with exasperation. What kind of ridiculous quest was this...
She tapped confirm. The quest log on the light screen updated to "Accepted," and the icons for five Premium Draw Tickets lit up in the reward slot, currently grayed out as unclaimable.
She closed the screen, her thoughts drifting to something else.
The last time she had overcompleted her quest in the Chiyan Imperial Dynasty quest instance, the system had rewarded her with the All Life Springs skill from the Forest Spirit's Verses.
She opened the system panel and asked, “If I overcomplete it this time, will I also unlock a new skill?”
The system's light screen flickered, and a moment later, a line of text popped up: 【Yes. If the host achieves a significant overperformance during the quest, she can unlock the additional skill reward for the corresponding quest instance. The specific skill type is currently unknown.】
After reading it, Lin Zhiyue closed the screen.
She looked at the administrative disciples cleaning up the arena in the distance. After a moment of thought, she decided not to remain in the spectator stands and stood up to head back.
She now had a direction. As long as she ensured her performance in the finals was stunning enough, it would likely count as overperforming.
Rate on N.U.
