Chapter 70 : Breakthrough on the Arena
The furry tiger paw scrawled across her palm, and only after the little white tiger had written two characters did Yun Qingyue realize she was trying to communicate through writing. Without saying much, she simply focused and waited for the little white tiger to finish.
Through halting efforts and educated guesses, Yun Qingyue finally understood what the little white tiger wanted to tell her.
Setting aside the matter of the little white tiger sneaking out at midnight, Chu Yang going out at night and heading to the remote Lightning Bramble Forest was indeed rather strange. Yun Qingyue had originally decided not to pay any more attention to this person, but receiving such information, she couldn't remain uninvolved. She used voice transmission to ask the little white tiger: "Do you know who the female disciple meeting with Chu Yang was?"
At this moment, the high platform was filled with figures like the Sect Leader and Peak Masters, whose cultivation levels far exceeded Yun Qingyue's. Therefore, even without deliberately investigating, they noticed her voice transmission to the little white tiger.
However, being elders, and since Yun Qingyue had chosen voice transmission clearly not wanting to be overheard, they didn't eavesdrop. Only Qingyu glanced back, her habitually cold, expressionless face showing an almost imperceptible furrowing of her brows. Then she too withdrew her gaze, likewise not probing into Yun Qingyue's voice transmission, focusing instead on the matches below.
The little white tiger was unaware of all this. She only heard Senior Sister's voice suddenly appearing by her ear, and after slight surprise, she shook her head. She hadn't seen the person and didn't recognize them, and the system didn't have the habit of collecting information on everyone.
Seeing this, Yun Qingyue wasn't surprised, merely nodding slightly to indicate she understood.
The little white tiger was relieved and glanced at the arena below... Goodness! Today's Chu Yang was going all out, actually fighting the senior disciple Wen Jin from Mount Qingyun to a standstill! Although Wen Jin, as a formation master, had obvious shortcomings, he was clearly no simple character as a peak's senior disciple. Anyone else on the arena would have been trapped in his formations by now.
Qingxu proudly stroked his beard, his previous exasperation with his senior disciple completely gone. He turned to boast to his fellow Peak Masters: "It seems my junior disciple has good fortune—he must possess some secret method or inheritance for breaking formations."
Peak Master Qingyuan was immediately displeased and snorted: "Merely a temporary success."
Hearing the conversation between the two, Qingyu didn't even turn her head, not bothering to respond.
Qingxu wasn't bothered by his junior's retort, his exuberance undiminished as he seized on Qingyuan's words to boast a few more times. He irritated Qingyuan greatly, until finally even Sect Leader Qingxiao couldn't bear it and glanced back: "Just be quiet. The match isn't over yet—why so much idle talk?" With so many disciples watching on the high platform.
The relationship between these Peak Master brothers was evidently good, and Sect Leader Qingxiao's authority was unquestionable. Qingxu immediately stopped talking sheepishly. When he turned his attention back to the arena, he found the situation had changed.
As a peak's senior disciple, Wen Jin naturally wasn't renowned without reason. The initial two formation disks he threw down failed to trap Chu Yang only because he had underestimated his opponent. Upon realizing how troublesome this person was, he adopted a more serious attitude. When he subsequently deployed formation flags, he was much more cautious, and the power of his formations became incomparably greater than before.
As a result, Chu Yang's situation deteriorated rapidly, and after persisting for a quarter hour on the arena, he regretfully lost.
He conceded defeat straightforwardly and left the arena with grace, appearing not to mind the outcome at all. Only those who had been closely observing him would notice the fleeting darkness in his eyes as he turned to leave the arena.
It was dissatisfaction and resentment, as if a victory he should have claimed had been forfeited for various reasons, leaving him frustrated and discontent.
Yun Qingyue, who had renewed her attention on him, saw this look, as did Qingyu, who had been quietly observing him. The former was thoughtful, feeling that the mysteries surrounding this person were accumulating. The latter's eyes filled with deep darkness, even a flash of killing intent, though it was suppressed before anyone could notice, returning to calm.
With this match concluded, Chu Yang returned to the high platform, bowing deeply to report the situation to his master: "This disciple was clumsy; I lost this match. Please punish me, Master."
Having just boasted about his disciple to his fellow Peak Masters, how could Qingxu punish him? Moreover, Chu Yang had faced Mount Qingyun's senior disciple, and no one had expected him to win, so there was no disappointment to speak of. Qingxu raised his hand kindly, invisible spiritual energy lifting him: "It doesn't matter. Wen Jin's cultivation naturally surpasses yours; there's no shame in losing. However, you should extract experience from this battle."
Chu Yang acknowledged this, and as he returned to stand behind Qingxu, Bei Luo, who had just been punished, not only didn't look at him with disdain but enthusiastically patted his shoulder, offering sincere praise. He clearly recognized the new junior brother's strength.
Chu Yang forced a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes, vastly different from Bei Luo's open-hearted demeanor.
༻༺❀༻✧⋆｡°✩☽༓☾✩°｡⋆✧༺❀༻༺
Two more matches followed, with Zhong Heng taking the stage before Yun Qingyue this time. Unfortunately, his luck wasn't good, and he directly faced Su Hao. As Mount Tianyang's senior disciple, Su Hao was the strongest among the five peaks' senior disciples, having formed his Nascent Soul much earlier than Bei Luo. Zhong Heng had no chance of victory against him, barely managing thirty to fifty moves under his opponent's courtesy before being knocked off the arena.
With such overwhelming strength difference, there was nothing to resent. Zhong Heng returned, sincerely convinced, yet his eyes were brighter than if he had won, clearly having identified an even more formidable goal to pursue.
After several matches, it was finally Yun Qingyue's turn, facing Bei Chen from Mount Luoxing.
The surname "Bei" was rare, yet Mount Luoxing had two of them—Bei Luo and Bei Chen were brothers. However, they weren't born brothers but orphans who had been adopted. They had grown up together in childhood, then joined the immortal sect together, both tested with superior spiritual roots, both apprenticed to Mount Luoxing, and finally became Mount Luoxing's senior and second disciples, respectively.
The two had always had a good relationship, better than many blood brothers, but as they grew up, they developed differences. For instance, Bei Luo was unrestrained while Bei Chen was domineering; Bei Luo practiced fist techniques, while Bei Chen practiced blade techniques.
Now on the arena, after exchanging names, Bei Chen immediately summoned his spirit blade and attacked Yun Qingyue.
Bei Chen's blade way was domineering; one slash carried tremendous force. Especially knowing his opponent was stronger than him, he dared not hold back at all, going all out from the first move. A phantom blade image appeared in midair, and as this slash descended, even the spectators below the arena seemed to feel a fierce blade intent, making their skin sting—not to mention Yun Qingyue, who faced this blade directly.
Confronted with such blade momentum, Yun Qingyue's expression remained unchanged. Only when the blade edge approached did she draw her sword with a "shing." The brilliant sword edge perfectly blocked the sharp blade edge; even with her opponent using full strength, he couldn't advance an inch further.
Seeing this, Bei Chen immediately withdrew his blade, then swung it through the air, sending another blade energy slashing toward Yun Qingyue. The blade momentum was equally unstoppable, splitting the air even in midair. The "wailing" wind sound resembled ghost cries, potentially affecting those with slightly inferior spirit. However, Yun Qingyue clearly wasn't among them; she similarly swung her sword, again cutting off her opponent's attack.
The two exchanged several moves, their actions becoming increasingly faster until the spectators gradually lost track of their movements. Occasionally glimpsing blade light and sword shadows, sometimes seeing blade and sword energies wildly surging, until eventually seeing almost nothing, the crowd could only watch helplessly as the marks of blades and swords on the damaged arena multiplied...
The little white tiger remained on the high platform, not asking to be held, sitting upright in her chair to watch. At first she could manage, but gradually she couldn't discern their movements and could only have the system open a small window in the corner of her vision to watch slow-motion replays.
But how could slow-motion replays capture the dangers of such an intense real-time battle?
Suddenly, the dilapidated arena shattered with a boom. Though the little white tiger still couldn't clearly see the two people's movements, she could tell that the blade energy from the previous strike had destroyed the arena. This made her extremely worried, even instinctively standing up, her front paws stepping on the chair's armrest as she leaned forward, as if this would help her see the true situation on the arena more clearly.
But this was clearly wishful thinking; the indiscernible battle remained unclear. Just as the little white tiger anxiously wanted to jump off the chair and rush to the edge of the high platform, a fair hand lightly pressed on her head: "It's fine, don't worry."
The cold, clear female voice—who else but Qingyu?
Qingyu was clearly not talkative; her ice mountain personality was deeply ingrained in anyone who had met her. Therefore, receiving such reassurance, the little white tiger felt somewhat flattered, and her anxiety subsided—though Senior Sister was fighting rather intensely, and though the duration of the fight had clearly exceeded the courtesy of a few dozen moves, if Master said there was no problem, then there probably wasn't, right?
Even if there was a problem, there was nothing she could do—the destined scruff of her neck was once again in Master's grasp, and the little white tiger's ears pressed back, not daring to move.
This arena match indeed didn't end quickly. The combatants exchanged far more than dozens of moves; considering their attack frequency, they had fought for hundreds or even thousands of moves. Occasional gasps of amazement came from below the arena, though it was unclear how much they could actually see.
After a long while, Qingxu suddenly spoke: "Sister, your disciple is using my disciple as a whetstone for her sword."
Qingyu's expression remained unchanged as she replied coolly: "It's fine."
The little white tiger's ears twitched slightly, but before she could turn to observe their expressions, a tremendous "boom" sounded. She hurriedly shifted her attention back to the arena, only to see rolling dust and smoke, making the situation inside even more unclear.
However, she noticed something different in this glance: a transparent barrier had clearly appeared outside the arena. The reason this normally invisible barrier had become visible was that many cracks had appeared on it. Moreover, these cracks continued to spread like a spider web, as if they would completely shatter at any moment.
The protective barrier outside the arena had broken!
Disciples who realized this were startled; the quick-reacting ones had already begun dispersing, and the quicker ones had even flown halfway into the air on their swords, ready to escape at any moment.
Fortunately, the sect's arena protection wasn't so easily broken. The elder presiding over the arena had been maintaining the formation with hand seals, and seeing this, he immediately increased the formation's output. The damaged protective barrier immediately began to recover at a visible speed until the last crack was repaired, and the transparent protective barrier once again became invisible, disappearing from view.
However, soon this disappeared protective barrier reappeared, though this time not because it was cracked, but because frost began to spread in the arena space. Bit by bit, patch by patch, it spread from freezing the arena to freezing the air, extending boundlessly.
Until this frost met the protective barrier, gradually freezing it as well, fortunately not spreading beyond it.
The arena within the protective barrier became completely invisible, with only a blanket of white visible to the eye. However, everyone knew that the ice sword intent was Yun Qingyue's technique, and they could tell whose situation was more favorable.
Sure enough, moments later, the frost shattered, revealing the figures inside—Yun Qingyue stood holding her sword, her expression serene, while the previously domineering Bei Chen now knelt with his blade. His ceremonial robes were frozen, his blade was frozen, and he himself was frozen. Unlike previous ice encasings, only a thin layer of frost covered him, yet it trapped him so thoroughly that even blinking was difficult.
After a long while, Bei Chen's frosted eyelashes blinked almost imperceptibly, and a breath of cold air escaped with his exhalation. Then Yun Qingyue was heard sheathing her sword and saying softly: "Junior Brother Bei Chen, thank you."