Vessel of Worlds

A blue-yellow barrier materialized in front of Sun Ming as his token transformed into a massive shield—nearly a zhang long and half a zhang wide, its surface a swirl of green and yellow.

The shield surged forward to meet the golden sword streaking toward him. A low, dull thud, and the Gongbu Sword's momentum was neutralized with ease—the blade was sent wobbling off at a wild angle.

But in that same instant, the copper ring came hurtling down from above with a shrieking wind and slammed into Sun Ming's protective barrier.

That barrier had already absorbed the force of seven or eight Flame Serpent Talismans. Under this additional full-force impact from the copper ring, it shattered into scattered motes of light and vanished.

Barely slowed by the barrier's remains, the ring continued its plunge toward Sun Ming himself. A direct hit would mean serious injury at minimum.

Cultivators were far tougher than mortals, but no one could take a direct artifact strike on bare flesh.

The ring's descent was savage, but Sun Ming moved fast. The token-shield, having just deflected the golden sword, swung around and positioned itself above his head just in time to catch the falling ring.

A deep, shuddering boom. The copper ring was knocked back.

But in that instant, the golden sword—which the shield had just batted aside—was already streaking in from a completely different angle, trailing a faint golden glow.

Sun Ming was genuinely frustrated. His opponent's artifacts were clearly a step below his own, yet they refused to break. Even after committing most of his spiritual power and deploying Sword Light, he still couldn't secure a decisive victory. The longer this dragged on, the worse it got for him—he was the one spending massive amounts of spiritual power on Sword Light just to chip away at his opponent's defenses. And his opponent, maddeningly, seemed willing to let his artifacts take the punishment rather than retreat, forcing Sun Ming to keep burning through spiritual power to grind them down bit by bit.

On top of that, his opponent could control three artifacts simultaneously, keeping two of them hammering at him from different directions without pause. Sun Ming could only operate one defensive artifact at a time, and even then he was being run ragged. He no longer had the spiritual power to maintain a full-body protective barrier on top of everything else. At this rate, his greatsword might not finish off the golden shield before the golden sword and copper ring found an opening and caught him unprotected.

Seeing no better alternative, Sun Ming reluctantly abandoned his assault on the golden shield and redirected the greatsword toward the golden sword instead.

Andy understood the tactic immediately. Sun Ming was trying to use his Sword Light's overwhelming cutting power to destroy the Gongbu Sword outright, then deal with everything else afterward.

Andy did have two more offensive upper-grade artifacts in his storage pouch, but he wasn't ready to reveal that kind of wealth unless absolutely forced to. An outer-sect disciple with two upper-grade artifacts was already unusual. He had shown three, and though they were all made from the relatively inexpensive material of refined copper, that still placed him among the wealthiest disciples around. Pulling out yet another would only deepen suspicion.

With that concern in mind, Andy couldn't afford to lose the Gongbu Sword. He sent the golden blade weaving and darting around Sun Ming in constantly shifting trajectories, refusing to engage the greatsword directly.

The green greatsword was a weapon built for raw power rather than agility, and in terms of speed it lagged slightly behind the golden sword. With Andy deliberately avoiding contact, the greatsword simply couldn't catch it.

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But whenever the greatsword turned back toward Andy, the golden sword would immediately shoot toward Sun Ming. And the copper ring never stopped for an instant, hammering at the shield relentlessly, giving Sun Ming no time to breathe.

This kind of multi-artifact pressure—using numerical superiority to run an opponent's single weapon ragged—was almost unheard of in Qi Refinement combat. The spectators below watched with keen interest, offering commentary between exchanges.

Neither Andy nor Sun Ming heard a word of it. Both were pushing their spiritual sense and spiritual power to the absolute limit. A single lapse in concentration from either side could decide the match.

Time crept by. The four or five artifacts on stage darted and clashed without pause, yet neither combatant could gain the upper hand. Sun Ming had already pulled out a jade-green mid-grade wood spirit stone some time ago to replenish his dwindling reserves.

But even with a mid-grade spirit stone, the rate of replenishment was far too slow to keep up with the rate of consumption in battle.

Andy watched with growing satisfaction as the Sword Light gradually shortened—from over a chi to seven or eight cun, then to two or three cun, and finally, it vanished altogether.

His golden sword, though it had picked up another notch from the greatsword during the chase, still glowed with a faint golden light. It was battered, but not destroyed.

Sun Ming's face had turned paler and paler, until it was white as paper. He had never imagined that he—with superior artifacts and superior spiritual power—could fail to defeat Andy. He had spent four or five years preparing for this trial, pouring nearly his entire fortune into acquiring the green greatsword and the camphor-wood token, two of the finest upper-grade artifacts available. He had devoted over three years specifically to mastering the Sword Command Arts.

When his last thread of spiritual power ran out before he could draw enough from his spirit stone, and Andy's golden sword and copper ring came at him simultaneously from front and above, Sun Ming had no choice but to surrender.

Andy's own reserves were nearly gone as well—and this was only because he had been using a spirit stone to replenish from early in the fight. Without that, which of them would have run dry first was an open question. Of course, if Andy's spiritual power had been about to give out first, he would have thrown a dozen Flame Serpent Talismans before it came to that—and at that point, Sun Ming's defenses would almost certainly have failed.

This match shattered any hope Andy had of staying inconspicuous. Nearly every outer-sect disciple now knew that a disciple who had joined only two years ago could simultaneously control three upper-grade artifacts and had defeated Sun Ming—a senior brother one full layer above him with superior artifacts. Even some of the sect's Foundation Establishment cultivators had taken notice of Andy.

What Andy didn't realize was that despite all his caution, this fight had already planted the seeds of serious trouble.

Though he had won, Andy could take no satisfaction in it. His artifacts had been badly mauled. All three showed the scars of Sun Ming's Sword Light. The Gongbu Sword was the worst off—at this point it probably couldn't even function at mid-grade level.

And this was only the third round. Two more rounds of fierce combat lay between him and a Foundation Establishment Pill. Without repairs, his artifacts would be useless in the remaining matches.

The golden shield was manageable—minor repairs would suffice. The copper ring needed to be re-forged in the furnace with mid-grade spirit stones. But the Gongbu Sword was beyond saving—he would have to forge a new one entirely.

With only a single day before the fourth round, and the need to meditate and recover his spiritual power, there was simply no way to do everything. He could repair the shield and ring in time, but that would leave him without a primary offensive artifact. If he pulled out a brand-new upper-grade weapon, it would be far too conspicuous.

Wanting to be strong while also staying under the radar—the two goals were fundamentally at odds.

With no perfect solution, Andy decided to play it by ear. If his fourth-round opponent wasn't too strong, the copper ring, golden shield, and some talismans might be enough. If he drew another formidable opponent, he would have no choice but to bring out his gleaming new "Immortal-Slaying Blade"—a fresh upper-grade flying blade he had forged.

One piece of welcome news: on another stage, in a match running nearly simultaneously with his own, Jian Xin'er had also fought her way through a difficult bout and advanced to the fourth round.

After a full day of rest—his spiritual power and stamina completely recovered, his golden shield and copper ring repaired—Andy arrived at the lot-drawing venue for the fourth round.

He picked up a wax pellet at random and cracked it open. On the small bamboo slip inside, two characters were inscribed from top to bottom: "59."

But Jian Xin'er was already running toward him from nearby, her face alight with excitement, and the words she spoke hit him like a bolt from a clear sky:

"Brother Wugen, I drew number fifty-nine! What did you get?"