The moment the great bell tolled, the Grand Arena erupted in a symphony of chaos. Across sixteen platforms, Qi flared to life as the first-round matches began.
The crowd's initial focus, and Alex's, was on Platform Three. Kaelen stood with his arms crossed, a supremely confident smirk on his face as his opponent, a speed-focused disciple named Shiro, vanished into a blur of motion. Shiro weaved across the platform, his twin daggers glinting, trying to find an opening.
Kaelen didn't chase. He simply began to fight, lobbing crimson orbs of fire, each one shaped like a clenched fist, forcing Shiro to constantly dodge and weave between the fiery explosions that scorched the stone platform. The air grew thick with heat as Kaelen kept up the relentless barrage, pinning his opponent at a distance.
"See?" Lily said, a little smugly. "Pure overwhelming force."
Shiro, however, was cunning. He used the smoke from a detonating fire fist as cover, activated his Gale Step technique, and reappeared in an instant, directly in Kaelen's blind spot. His daggers, coated in sharp wind Qi, plunged toward Kaelen's unprotected back.
Just as the daggers were about to find their mark, Kaelen's smirk widened. Without turning, a blade of pure, compressed flame erupted from his empty hand, meeting Shiro's daggers with a sharp hiss of metal melting in fire. Shiro's eyes went wide with shock—he had been completely outplayed. Kaelen then sent one last fire fist, not from a distance, but at point-blank range. The concussive blast sent Shiro flying from the platform, his robes smoldering.
Before the crowd could fully process Kaelen's victory, a deafening BOOM, followed by a flash of blinding white light, drew every eye to Platform Seven. The protective barrier around it flickered violently. When the light faded, Raiden stood calmly in the center of the platform, his hand still crackling with residual lightning. His opponent lay twitching on the stone, smoke rising from his scorched robes. The match had ended before the poor disciple had even taken a single step.
Alex felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The sheer, instantaneous power was terrifying. His gaze darted to the projection for Platform Nine, where Seraphina was finishing her match. There was no explosion, no grand display. Her opponent was simply on one knee, his sword lying on the platform before him, a single, perfectly cut plum blossom petal resting on its blade. He had been defeated with such swiftness and ease that it was almost insulting.
His eyes finally found the screen for Platform 14, where he had placed his bet. He was met with a scene of quiet confusion. There was no crater, no scorch marks, no visible sign of a struggle. Lyra was already walking calmly toward the platform's edge to head back to the waiting area, her expression as serene as if she had just finished a cup of tea. Her opponent simply lay unconscious in the center of the platform.
Alex blinked, replaying the "fight" in his head. There was nothing. It didn't make sense. He turned to Jay, who had been watching the same screen.
"Jay, what... what just happened on Platform 14?"
Jay shook his head, his expression a mask of pure bewilderment. "I don't know, Alex. I was watching her the whole time." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a confused whisper. "The bell rang. Her opponent took a step forward. All I saw was her snap her fingers... and he just... fell."
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High above the roaring crowd, on a private balcony shielded by silencing formations, the five elders observed the aftermath of the first round. The air between them was thick with contemplation.
"A decisive opening," Elder Lin commented, his gaze sweeping across the now-empty platforms. "The gap between the truly gifted and the merely diligent is as wide as ever."
Elder Wu grunted in agreement, his eyes still fixed on the scorch marks on Platform 3. "Kaelen's control over his Blazing Sun Fist has improved. That final, point-blank detonation showed a level of mastery I did not expect. He is using more than just brute force."
"Perhaps," Elder Lian countered gently, her gaze soft. "But did you see Seraphina? She defeated her opponent without so much as disturbing the air. She used a single, Qi-infused plum blossom petal to sever his confidence. That is not just mastery, it is art."
"Art does not win wars, Sister Lian," Elder Zheng interjected, his tone as pragmatic as ever. "Power does. On that front, Disciple Raiden is the most impressive. His Thunderclap Step is so fast that his opponent was defeated before he could even register the attack. That is a terrifying weapon."
A thoughtful silence fell over the group as they considered the different forms of power they had just witnessed. It was Elder Ming who broke it, a troubled look in his kind eyes.
"And what of Disciple Lyra?" he asked quietly, his gaze directed at no one in particular.
The other elders shifted uncomfortably.
"I... did not see the match clearly," Elder Lian admitted. "One moment he was standing, the next he was on the ground."
"It was a spiritual attack," Elder Wu stated, his brow furrowed in concentration. "A direct assault on the consciousness. A powerful but dangerous and incredibly difficult art to master. To defeat a fellow Golden Core disciple so effortlessly with it..." He trailed off, a hint of grudging respect in his voice. "It seems that her time in seclusion was not wasted."
"Too dangerous," Elder Zheng said flatly. "Such arts blur the line between righteous combat and malevolent will. They are difficult to defend against and even more difficult to control. She is a dangerous variable. Powerful but unstable."
Elder Lin remained silent for a long moment, his fingers steepled before him. He had watched all the matches, his perception far beyond the others. He had seen the flicker of pure soul force from Lyra's fingertips, the resonance of lightning in Raiden's every cell, the harmony of wind in Seraphina's stance, and the raw, untamed fire in Kaelen's heart.
"The three who ascend will be chosen by their strength, their will, and their virtue," he finally said, his voice calm and resolute, bringing the discussion to a close. "The tournament will continue."
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After the preliminaries, a brief intermission followed, and the battles continued. Round after round played out across the sixteen platforms, a whirlwind of elemental power and masterful techniques. Disciples were eliminated, their dreams of becoming a Core Disciple dashed for this cycle, leaving the arena until only the strongest four remained. The sixteen platforms went dark, and the attention of every single person in the massive colosseum focused on the single, grand stage at the very center.
The semi-finals.
The first matchup was announced on the grand projection screen: Kaelen vs. Isolde.
Kaelen strode onto the platform, his fiery red hair practically crackling with power. His opponent was a woman whose beauty was as sharp and cold as the ice she commanded. She moved with a sultry grace, an ice-crystal whip coiled in her hand.
As Isolde entered the stage, Jay leaned forward, his amber eyes locked on her, a look of pure, mesmerized awe on his face.
SMACK.
Lily's fist connected squarely with his arm.
"Ow!" Jay yelped, rubbing the spot. "What was that for?"
"Because I felt like it," Lily said coolly, not taking her eyes off the stage. Elara shot Jay a withering side-eye before giving Lily a subtle, thankful nod. Alex saw the whole exchange and had to suppress a laugh, knowing that if he made a sound, he would be inviting the same treatment.
The moment the bell rang, the platform became a war of elements. Kaelen was a relentless inferno, launching his signature fire fists. Isolde was a winter storm, countering with shimmering shields of frost and lashing out with a whip that could freeze the air it passed through. Scorching crimson clashed against crystalline blue, sending massive plumes of steam billowing across the stage. It was a close, brutal fight that pushed Kaelen to his limits.
While their battle raged, the other semi-final matches concluded with stunning swiftness. Raiden's opponent was faster than his previous ones, managing to dodge the initial lightning strikes. But Raiden, proving he was more than just a one-trick pony, adapted. Instead of a direct assault, he sent a bolt of lightning arcing from the side, catching his opponent completely off-guard and ending the match in a flash of white light.
Seraphina's fight was against a disciple practicing the "Earth Tortoise Art," whose defense was nearly impenetrable. Her elegant wind-laced strikes were deflected time and again by a shell of condensed earth. Unfazed, Seraphina simply coated her blade in a miniature vortex of razor-sharp wind, turning her sword into a drill that tore through the earthen defense and earned her a clean victory.
Meanwhile, Alex's gaze was fixed on Lyra's platform. He had watched her previous matches with an intensity that bordered on obsession, and with his Immortal Eyes, he had seen what no one else could. Woven into the pure, shimmering Qi she projected was something else—faint, almost imperceptible black threads of energy, so subtle they were like smoke against a night sky. He didn't know what it meant, but a cold knot of unease settled in his gut. He had kept this discovery to himself. Her semi-final match ended just as the others had: her opponent took a step, she made a subtle gesture, and he simply collapsed, unconscious.
The arena fell into a hush as the names of the final two victors and Kaelen, who had finally overpowered Isolde in a massive fiery blast, appeared on the screen. The final matchups were set.
Kaelen vs. Raiden
Seraphina vs. Lyra
Power versus speed. Grace versus the terrifying, unknown art that had left a trail of unconscious bodies in its wake. The final round promised to be a clash of legends.
The roar of the crowd was deafening, some excited about their winnings, others completely devastated by financial losses, the excitement reaching a fever pitch. But before the disciples could even begin their fervent debates, Elder Lin raised a single hand from the air above. A profound silence instantly fell over the tens of thousands of spectators.
His calm, amplified voice washed over the arena, carrying an absolute authority.
"Disciple Kaelen. Disciple Raiden. Disciple Seraphina. Disciple Lyra," he began, naming each of the four finalists. "You have all demonstrated formidable strength and unwavering will. You have proven yourselves to be the pinnacle of your generation."
He paused, letting his words hang in the air, a moment of acknowledgment for the four martial artists who now stood alone at the top.
"But let it be known," he continued, his tone turning sharp and unyielding, "that while there are four of you, there are only three positions for Core Disciples to be granted this cycle."
A collective gasp swept through the arena. The four finalists, who had just been celebrating their hard-won victories, now looked at each other with a new, dangerous light in their eyes. They were no longer just competitors; they were direct rivals, vying for a prize that one of them was now destined to lose.
"In moments, you will face your final trials," Elder Lin concluded, his voice echoing in the stunned silence. "You will prove not just your power, but your worthiness. Rest well."
With that, he returned to the balcony, leaving the arena in a state of tense, whispering chaos. The celebration was over. For the four finalists, the final fight was about to begin, and one of them was about to fall.