Looking upon the dark-robed young man who struggled to lift his hand, his face smeared with blood and eyes striving to remain open, all stood silent in awe. This guy… was indeed as tenacious as a cockroach, to still cling to some consciousness after suffering such a devastating rebound of martial energy. Elder Su Qian displayed visible astonishment. At this point, Xiao Yan was clearly on the brink of exhaustion; what still kept his eyes open must’ve been his sheer obsession with entering the top ten. With a bitter smile, Elder Su Qian hesitated before solemnly announcing, ‘This match shall end in a tie — you two shall be joint entries among the Ten Greatest. Therefore, rest assured.’
Hearing Su Qian’s words through a haze of drowsiness, Xiao Yan finally relaxed his mind which allowed his eyelids to immediately droop while falling rapidly into unconsciousness. After watching this scene unfold as expected with concern, Elder Su sighed deeply—both Xiao Yan and Liu Qing were now gravely injured, their subsequent battle appearances becoming impossible. Gazing momentarily upon the unconscious form of Xiao Yan lying upon the ground, Elder Su Qian could’t help sigh again at the startling determination exuding from this youth; even someone like Liu Qing was reduced to such state. None had foreseen this possibility, apparently.
“A respected elder,” said another venerable elder with slight doubt, breaking through the silence, “if they indeed are both placed among the Top Ten in a stalemate, wouldn’t the number of Ten Greats increase to eleven? Hence, won’t there need to be eleven chances for undergoing fiery trials of the heart essence within the pagoda?”
Elder Su Qian nodded indifferently, replying simply, “One more, eleven then there shall be twelve. Though heart essence is indeed valuable treasures, over generations we gathered a reserve; allocating one would hardly burden anyone. After all, dismissing this, how will we justify this outcome between those two, when both have overstepped normal constraints with an undeciperable result?”
Receiving the confirmation from esteemed leader himself, doubt evaporated as he respectfully nodded and bowed away in compliance.
“As for proceeding battles, let us use an alternative site,” directed Su Qian with composed authority while addressing others surrounding him, eyes wandering across the crowd thoughtfully before continuing: “Nonetheless, owing to their injuries, our participants named Xiao Yan and Liu Qing no more compete onwards. However, matters concerning rankings stand largely settled; even if we finalize remaining standings now without their further contests, that should hold satisfactory. As truth reveals itself deep, hearts already balance each name.”
As Su Qian spoke, a ripple of comprehension rolled through the assembly—a sentiment of immense relief followed their understanding. Having beheld both formidable displays from previously engaged combatants, all welcomed eased competition with the notion that two rivals’ retreat would indeed make proceedings considerably calmer than imagined. Admittedly, there were exceptions.
For example, Lin Xiuya exhaled deeply, disappointment laced upon his every feature; deprived from rivals who had offered unmatched intensity previously, any remaining competition felt pale and dull, bereft from challenge, devoid entirely of expectations.
Amongst streams of awestruck stares—both reverent and worshipful alike—both severely battered figures found themselves gently removed towards recovery zones by associates. With this retreat of duelists complete, tournament resumed. Yet nothing thereafter quite evoked same awe stirred from prior clashes between such masters bordering the impossible. This notion stood universally acknowledged even among those still competing; none of them capable of challenging the previously demonstrated prowess—Xiao Yan and Liu Qing transcended typical Dou Ling level duelist capacities—thus surpassing these limits remained impossible.
The tournament’s ranking contests continued on, persisting throughout afternoon until gradually tapering off to culmination at last dusk, revealing fresh standings amidst a fierce whirlpool of intense struggles. Atop the new ranking: naturally stood Xiao Ziyan, an eccentric little prodigy possessing formidable physical force—an entity no student challenged, nor some elders dared meet in battle willingly. Even the proud Lin Xiuya refrained from pursuing supremacy here. In second place unsurprisingly stayed steady amidst Liu Qing’s withdrawal—a spot Lin remained firmly atop as Xiao Yan now stood alongside—making his grip on the coveted “second’s place” unshaken.
Positioning third initially occupied Liu before vacating now passed towards Yan Hao without major contention. Struggle ensued fiercely in competition claiming fourth; however, after countless clashes, the surprisingly determined Lin Yen unexpectedly ascended triumphantly leaping his position up from ninth. The rest remained chaotic—six remaining rankings saw turbulent turnover with just two incumbents retaining status amongst fierce newcomers ascending due to sheer fate laced through lottery draws yet even so possessing great might indeed essential for securing any standing at all in such fiercely contested competition.
Despite formal confirmation by official rankings of their ten spots within the Grand Ranks listing as tied tenth in joint honor—unwaveringly, hearts individually held their own balance within their consciousness. Therefore, even as official charts recorded them as merely tenth position holders, among many—including third rank holder Yan Hao himself—it remained clear this honor still belonged entirely—unmistakenly, unrelentingly to that one fiercely imposing individual—albeit this was only half the story, also belonging alongside him…to Xiao Yan himself.
Through the aftermath of an awe-inspiring battle against his peerless strength, this young man named Xiao Yan earned the undoubted respect of every single onlooker. Now his arrival would forever etch upon history a mark within the Inner学院, for even a year would not have granted him much prominence. The influence of Pan men hence ascended with meteor-like brilliance alongside Xiao Yan. For long Lin Xiuya and Liu Qing stood as two pillars commanding formidable influence through exceptional prowess. Now Pan men—a fledgling force emerged with such equal might capable rivals; their ascent, undoubtedly would soar like noon’s mid-sun.
Just at conclusion of last contest amidst rising murmurs from spectators who, still immersed deep beneath thrill and adrenaline from the past encounters, prepared for departure—suddenly emerged an unaccounted-for final fight. This unexpected turn captured every gaze; astonished disbelief blanketed over their features.
According to tradition, as contests concluded each time previously, there came a few casual matches intended merely for amusement following completion of a grand event cycle. Any daring enough, could hand select and openly challenge fresh top-ranked contestants freely, though these matches held far less gravity, meant instead only as an amusements or light-hearted exchanges. Most wisely avoided participation—for what reason would victors of grueling trials seek further struggle when assured outcomes stood clear from prior selection? Thus engaging in any would invite embarrassment, perhaps folly—yet this time, such logic shattered under a sight unexpected entirely—an unexpectedly beautiful, enchanting young girl issued challenge unanticipated—against Lin Xiuya himself.
Certainly this alone warranted whispers—but more than the challenge itself lay what transpired in the aftermath.
Unbelievable as it was, within moments—an interval scarcely surpassing ten minutes—a Lin Xiuya left in total defeat. As slender pale fingers halted just inches from impacting upon his forehead, sweat drenched his forehead—wide-eyes stared in shock at the expressionless young enchantress standing across; in her expression, no triumph. His own throat found itself parched; no trace anger emerged—not one spark of resentment—because throughout every move, he found himself continuously retreating under relentless assaults, pulling all his strongest tactics into battle. Despite his peak martial abilities unveiled in those few fleeting bursts, with naught a gesture the girl exhaled a glimmer golden energy, scalding radiance consuming his techniques into oblivion—rendering their impact nil amidst smoke’s fading trail.
The moment his strongest technique dispelled into thin air, Lin’s heart stilled—the understanding crystallized. Victory unattainable in presence of such incomparable strength; even hope of defense vanished under such mastery’s presence alone—as her continued onslaught only sealed his inevitable submission.
“I lost,” stated Lin with resigned grace, eyes dim under scrutiny from every spectator as he smiled faintly. “Thought Xiao Yan the only black horse to rise up this tournament, never imagined his little sweetheart exceeded even him. Your might easily surpasses even sister Xiau Zhiyan.”
Before him, spectators gasped with fishy wide eyes, their confusion apparent and overwhelming. None more stunned than atop distant podium, where another fair female face wore a similarly stupefied expression itself—an inner war raging between bewilderment and the painful reality: watching a rival frequently scorned so thoroughly vanquish an opponent who herself inspired so many insecurites from others was not merely shocking—such was enough to unbalance any mind utterly.
“The challenge against Ziyan might cause another fit of tears; the scolding likely coming my way from big bro would follow…” Lin thought inwardly, gazing upon the graceful silhoutte basking beneath warm sun rays cascading down from twilight, illuminating the pure beauty within her delicate features as a warm breeze gently caressed the thin veil covering her frame. At this sight before him—his heart throbbed with something profound.
Something unfamiliar…perhaps a feeling referred in books as “captivation at first sight!” The idea startled him into laughter—only a short while ago did treating all women lightly define his demeanor, not imagining once such emotion would catch him of guard like this.
“This challenge? It’s simply because he always wished to see what brilliance I possessed…”
Slowly retracted her slender arms from threatening Lin’s temple, as with elegance she withdrew, murmuring gently before breaking contact, trailing words trailing behind softly as though echoing into hearts.
Hesitating, Lin opened his mouth yet no response came; his most suave composure once famed among Inner学院 faltered beneath feminine presence unfamiliar territory for words.
“Fear not; the second ranking means little to me—I must go soon to care for Xiaoyan-gege.”
Mocking Xiao Yam’s signature gestures teasingly with a playful arch her shoulders towards Lin Xiuya, then with steps light upon soft feet wrapped around thin ankles beneath flowing azure hem trailing past calves—the figure vanished, departing along sun-stretching paths along silent hushed arena—each step drawing attention and lingering longings never spoken, only watched until silhouette danced into golden hues vanishing from sight.
“A girl so exceptional… why haven’t I realized her presence before…”
Fog clouded his eyes as gaze fixed distant horizon, now emptied save the whispering hush following his heart’s sudden dull pang—an overwhelming rush of unfamiliar emotion surged towards that figure named Xiao Yan. Jealously? Yearning?
None could decipher such intricate, tumultuous, and yet strangely new sensations stirring within him.
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