Chapter 162: Five-Year Tournament (7)

“I surrender…” Mei Li’s voice came out like a breath.

…

The silence that followed Mei Li’s surrender was dense, laden with unanswered questions.

Everyone wondered how the newly arrived disciple, the supposed Innate Talent, was able to extract and shape the ancient blood of the fortress, the vital blood of the foundation of the Crimson Court, without triggering a single defensive formation.

The leader of the Shadow Branch whispered, his voice a blade’s edge.

“The absorption and defense formations react to any unauthorized attempt to drain blood from the core. They should have reduced him to ashes.”

The leader of the Diplomacy Branch, Meihong, still shaken but forcing her analytical mind to function, stared fixedly at Kyrian.

“Unless… unless the formations do not recognize him as a threat. As an intrusion.”

Dong Zhen remained silent, but his sharp eyes pierced Kyrian as if trying to unravel a secret.

He had felt the tremor in the foundations, subtle as the beating of a bee’s wings. The defenses were not breached. They simply… did not react.

It was as if the fortress itself had allowed that small loan.

’How?’

Meanwhile, Kyrian felt a faint burn in the palm of his hand.

The mark that normally remained dormant unless it guided him to a natural formation pulsed with a soft, comforting heat, like a warm ember.

He had not called it. But the moment his eyes focused on the intrinsic blood of the fortress, seeking a source that was not his own body, the mark seemed to have attuned him.

And then Kyrian gained an understanding. Not completely, but a flash of intuition.

The mark on his hand was not just a map or a key to natural formations.

It also seemed to be something that altered his spiritual signature before complex energy systems. Just like in natural formations… or powerful formations built with similar principles.

The Crimson Court was built a long time ago, although the defensive formations were made by human hands. When Kyrian, the bearer of the mark, sought the blood of the fortress, the defenses did not see a thief trying to break in.

They saw… something like a trusted administrator taking a part of itself, someone with implicit permission.

The mark became his pass. It did not grant him full control, Dong Zhen was still the unquestioned master of the core and the fortress, but it granted him access that others could not have.

A basic immunity to the deepest defense systems.

That was why he had managed to obtain that thread of sanguine power. Not through brute force or isolated superior understanding, but because the mysterious mark on his hand, whose origin and purpose he still did not know, opened doors to a new discovery.

He closed his hand slightly, feeling the familiar shape of the mark. He had finally discovered something more about it, and Kyrian found it even more intriguing now than ever.

Dong Zhen then raised his hand, silencing the growing murmur.

“The first round has ended. The five winners are. Bai Zhu, Li Fen, Kai, Yan Ling, and Kyrian.”

His voice was firm, but his gaze, when it settled on Kyrian, held satisfaction and, at the same time, doubt.

“Five participants. One name will be drawn to advance directly to the next phase of the tournament.”

The urn was brought forward. All eyes were on it, but the tension now carried a different flavor.

Kyrian had introduced a variable that challenged their understanding of the court’s own power.

Dong Zhen drew the name.

“The participant who will advance directly to the next phase is… Bai Zhu, of the Military Branch.”

Bai Zhu let out a grunt of dissatisfaction, but his predatory smile was a little more restrained.

Dong Zhen announced the remaining matchups.

“First fight, Yan Ling, of the Resource Collection Branch, versus Kai, of the External Missions Branch.”

“Second fight, Li Fen, of the Shadow Branch, versus Kyrian, of the Main Branch.”

The murmuring exploded. Yan Ling versus Kai drew attention, but the true event for everyone would be the second fight.

Li Fen, from his position, studied Kyrian with renewed intensity.

Dong Zhen then declared.

“The fights will begin after a half-hour period for rest and preparation.”

The arena stirred with movement, but the gaze of the leaders, especially Dong Zhen’s, remained fixed on Kyrian for a long moment before he turned away.

After half an hour, the two combatants descended into the arena.

Yan Ling, with her intertwined leather-and-metal whip, appeared calm and calculating.

Kai, with his empty hands and weathered expression, breathed calmly.

“Begin,” Dong Zhen ordered.

This time, it was Yan Ling who took the initiative, advancing to reduce the distance.

But Kai did not allow it. With a sharp movement of his right hand, as if throwing a stone, he launched his attack.

“Blood Darts!” he shouted.

From his clenched fist, three compact projectiles of turbid, dense blood Qi shot straight out, hissing through the air with brutal speed.

Yan Ling halted her charge. Her whip danced, cracking through the air to intercept.

The darts were deflected or disintegrated on impact, but the force behind them made her arm tremble.

She retreated a few steps, keeping her distance. Kai was not an opponent to be faced up close easily.

Kai, seeing her hesitate, smiled with the corner of his mouth. He began to move laterally, always staying outside the whip’s ideal range, while his arms worked like catapults.

“Rain of Blood Shards!”

This time, dozens of smaller, faster fragments of impure blood energy poured from his hands, covering a wide area. They were not lethal individually but sought to overwhelm Yan Ling’s defense, forcing her to spend Qi to dodge or block each one.

Yan Ling understood the strategy. He was wearing her down at a distance, using his experience in prolonged fights.

She could not afford a battle of attrition, her cultivation was one stage lower than Kai’s, and she did not possess as much Qi to expend.

With a fluid movement, she stopped trying to close in. Instead, she began to spin in place, her whip becoming a defensive whirlwind that deflected most of the shards. As she spun, she released her own technique.

“Crimson Wind Blades!”

From the whirl of the whip, curved blades of pure, sharp blood Qi were launched, flying in arcing trajectories to bypass Kai’s shards and strike him.

They were fewer but far more precise and lethal.

Kai stopped his rain of shards and raised a solid defense. A wall of Qi rose from the ground before him. Yan Ling’s blades embedded themselves in the wall, making it crack, but they did not pierce through.

However, one of the blades, more cunning in its path, ricocheted off the ground before the wall and struck Kai’s leg from behind his shield.

A deep cut appeared on his calf. Kai grunted in pain but did not fall.

Instead, his eyes gleamed with danger.

Blood flowed from the wound.

He extended his hand toward the flow and, with a sharp gesture, ripped the blood that was pouring out into the air before it hit the ground.

“Blood Return!” he snarled. The blood formed an irregular, dark spear that he hurled back at Yan Ling with doubled force, now imbued with his fierce intent.

Yan Ling was ready. She did not try to block. When the blood spear was a few meters away, she made a complex gesture with her left hand, while her right held the whip firmly.

“Flow Dominion!”

The blood in the spear, which was originally his but carried his intent, trembled in the air.

Yan Ling’s intent, though less brutal, was purer and subtler. She could not seize control, but she managed to divert the trajectory with great mental effort, making the spear pass centimeters from her shoulder.

The effort, however, left her momentarily exposed.

Kai, limping, took advantage. He spat a drop of his own blood into his palm, mixing it with his Qi.

“Rotten Blood Blizzard!”

The drop exploded into a cloud of red and black miasma that expanded rapidly, engulfing the area where Yan Ling stood.

It was an area attack that did not seek precision but contamination and suffocation.

Yan Ling inhaled some of the mist and coughed, feeling her Qi grow heavy, her blood heating unpleasantly. She had been poisoned, lightly. It was time to end this.

She was also injured. A shard she had not completely deflected had opened a cut on her arm. She looked at the blood, then at Kai, who was advancing, limping through his own mist, his eyes full of murderous determination.

Yan Ling did the same as him, she touched the cut on her arm, collecting a larger amount of her own blood on her fingertips.

But instead of throwing it as a weapon, she blew on it gently.

“Crimson Seed!”

The blood dispersed into a very fine, shining mist that did not attack Kai but spread through the air between them.

Kai hesitated. Suspicious. He felt the mist. It was just pure blood, almost without offensive intent.

’What is she doing?’

Yan Ling then closed her eyes for a fraction of a second. When she opened them, her blood intent exploded immediately.

“Germinate!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep