Chapter 023 - Survive Until my Brother Returns! (2)
Chapter 023 - Survive Until my Brother Returns! (2)
As the Eight Swords Conclave was about to commence, Yun Xiao pulled Cai Maomao aside to inquire, "How does this battle work?"
Cai Maomao explained, "The Eight Swords Conclave consists of two phases. The first is the Sword Debate and the second is the Grand Conclave itself!"
"What is the Sword Debate?" Yun Xiao asked, a frown of confusion marring his forehead.
"The Sword Debate is a series of one-on-one battles where individuals fight for honor and rewards. More than eight hundred Sword Cultivators will pair off, facing each other on over four hundred sword dueling platforms," Cai Maomao elucidated.
"So, it's continuous one-on-one battles until a champion emerges? That seems like it would take a while," Yun Xiao remarked, scratching his head in perplexity. He had heard that the Sword Debate would only last half an hour.
"Absolutely not!" Cai Maomao shook his head, a trace of amusement flickering in his eyes. "The Sword Debate is timed to half an hour. Within this timeframe, if you defeat your opponent, you can immediately ascend to another platform where a battle has concluded and continue fighting. The faster you overpower your adversaries, the quicker you can commence the next battle. When the half-hour mark arrives, rankings will be determined based on the number of Sword Points accumulated."
"Sword Points?"
"Yes. Sword Points will be distributed shortly. Defeating an opponent allows you to acquire their Sword Points," Cai Maomao confirmed.
"Does everyone start with the same amount of Sword Points?" Yun Xiao asked, curiosity piqued.
"Of course not. The stronger individuals start with more Sword Points. Those in the Late Dragon Spring Realm get one Sword Point, those at Perfect Dragon Spring Realm get two, those in the Establishment Dragon Spring Realm get three, and those in the Divine Sea Realm get five," Cai Maomao explained.
The sun bore down as Yun Xiao scratched his head, the itch of curiosity prickling at him. "So, I start with three Sword Points, right?" he ventured, his gaze sharp and calculating. Even though he was at the Perfect Dragon Spring Realm, he was known as an Establishment Dragon Spring Realm disciple, one who had defeated Wu Jianyang.
Cai Maomao gave him a look that was part amusement and part exasperation. “No, you, my friend, start with a grand total of ten Sword Points.”
Yun Xiao blinked, the corners of his lips twitching upwards, “And why is that?”
Cai Maomao explained, “Because you are the Top Sword, the very face of the Sword Pavilion. It's supposed to be an incentive to challenge strong opponents. Anyone who defeats you gets an extra reward.”
Yun Xiao leaned back, absorbing this new information, a slow grin spreading across his face. "So, in other words, I start off with higher initial Sword Points than others, and as long as I don't lose, these ten points are mine to keep, contributing to my final ranking?"
Cai Maomao nodded vigorously. "Exactly!" In layman's terms, it was a race against time. Half an hour to carve a path of victory and seize the coveted title of Champion of the Sword Debate.
Eyes gleaming with an insatiable curiosity, Yun Xiao leaned in closer, his voice tinged with the spirit of competition, "What's in it for the Champion of the Sword Debate? I mean, what's the prize?”
"Well, there are heaps of rewards starting from the top hundred, including—" Cai Maomao began.
Yun Xiao, however, raised a hand to stop him, his expression turning serious, "Just tell me the prize for first place. That's all that matters." His words sliced through the air, a clear indicator of his resolve to aim for nothing but the top.
Cai Maomao paused, the smile fading as he glanced at Yun Xiao. The latter's stern face showed no signs of jest. Swallowing, he whispered, almost hesitatingly, "But Grandpa Qin asked you to surrender..."
Yun Xiao's eyebrows twitched upwards in a defiant arc. "Spit it out."
The tension hung heavily in the air before Cai Maomao finally spoke, his voice cracking with excitement, "The skull of a Thousand-Year-Old Demon Emperor and twenty Dragon Spring Pills!" He couldn't help but become a little excited.
Yun Xiao chuckled, his face splitting into a grin that matched Cai Maomao's. "Adding fuel to the fire, aren't they?"
"Yeah..." Cai Maomao's grin faded into a bitter smile, unable to deny the blatant bribery at play here.
Yun Xiao knew exactly what a Thousand-Year-Old Demon Emperor represented. There was only one in the Northern Wastelands, and rumor had it that three years ago, it led tens of thousands of demons that forced the Sect Master of the Azure Spirit to shatter his sword in a last-ditch attack, asserting its reign as the monarch amongst demons, a being with a thousand years of cultivation. The first place trophy might not belong to the current Demon Emperor, but possibly to one of its ancestors.
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Cai Maomao shrugged, a hint of pride in his voice. "This is the finest communal treasure that Azure Spirit currently possesses, even more precious than the Divine Sea Pill."
Understanding dawned on Yun Xiao as he nodded, his determination only fueling the fire within him. This wasn't just a personal artifact, but a gem that belonged to the entire Azure Spirit Sword Sect. A stake of such grandeur?
Who was it meant for? The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. This was a game of immense stakes, a gamble with the legacy of Azure Spirit on the line!
Cai Maomao sighed, his voice echoing with an odd mix of anticipation and melancholy, "The Eight Swords Conclave, today we fight for treasure, tomorrow for honor!"
Battling in the Sword Debate was for personal glory. Joining the Grand Conclave, however, was for the honor of the Sword Peaks and Sword Pavilion!
"How do you take part in the Grand Conclave?" Yun Xiao asked casually, as though discussing the weather.
"It's a team battle." Cai Maomao stuck his tongue out, a hint of fear tingeing his voice.
"A team composed of...?"
"One branch against another!" Cai Maomao exclaimed, a note of dread ringing through his words.
Yun Xiao paused, his gaze drifting from the Sword Pavilion to the other Sword Peaks. His voice dripped with disbelief as he asked, "Eight people... against a hundred and twenty?"
"Nope," Cai Maomao shook his head firmly.
Yun Xiao sighed in relief.
"It's just you, alone, fighting against the top hundred and twenty disciples from a Sword Peak," Cai Maomao added, his voice carrying a morbid kind of humor.
"Damn it! Why?" Yun Xiao questioned, his face reflecting his incredulity.
"Because the rest of us seven, well, we chose to save our skin rather than fight in the Sword Debate. So, there's no way we're showing up for the Grand Conclave. The Sword Debate at least offers a chance for some semblance of dignity, but the Grand Conclave is just a one-way ticket to oblivion. If we survive the Sword Debate, the Sword Pavilion stands strong, and we needn't show up tomorrow," Cai Maomao explained, his voice a mix of regret and resignation.
"Alright," Yun Xiao clenched his teeth, determination flaring in his eyes. "You mentioned the Grand Conclave is a battle for honor. What kind of honor are we talking about?"
"The ranking of the Sword Peaks. It dictates the distribution of resources among the branches of the Azure Spirit Sword Sect for the upcoming year. The higher the rank, the greater the priority in acquiring essential cultivation resources like pills, demon bones, armor, sword techniques, and daoist spells. So, in essence, it's still a fight for oneself," Cai Maomao said, a hint of sadness creeping into his tone.
"Is there anything else?"
"There's something far more important!" Cai Maomao's eyes ignited with fervor.
"What is it?"
"The Azure Spirit Cauldron."
"What's that?"
"Look, over there!"
Following the direction of Cai Maomao's pointing finger, Yun Xiao's gaze landed on a massive azure cauldron stationed near the Rank Four Sword Inheritance Stone. Positioned at the heart of Conclave Mountain, the cauldron emanated an air of ancient weightiness, commanding reverence from all who beheld it.
"What's so special about it? What does it do?" Yun Xiao asked, his curiosity piqued.
"It's the first sacred relic of the Azure Spirit Sword Sect, a supreme magic weapon! It has the power to gather spiritual energy. Whichever Sword Peak possesses it will have spiritual energy several times richer than others!" Cai Maomao explained, his voice tinged with envy.
"So it rotates annually? Whichever Sword Peak stands victorious in the Grand Conclave claims it for the year?" Yun Xiao narrowed his eyes, pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place in his mind.
"Yes!" Cai Maomao sighed heavily, shaking his head as he continued, "I told you before that the Azure Spirit Sword Sect is an alliance of eight powerful factions, right? Initially, this cauldron was the personal property of our Sword Pavilion, only later did it become a shared treasure of the entire sect. For a hundred years, before three years ago, it stood before the Grand Hall.
"And for the last three years, it's belonged to the First Sword Peak. From this, you can guess the reason behind Ye Tiance and his group's wolfish ambitions," he finished, a bitterness seeping through his words.
"I understand now," Yun Xiao nodded, a storm brewing in his eyes, ready to unleash its fury at the opportune moment.
"Junior Brother Yun, I advise you to try your luck in the Sword Debate, it might aid in your cultivation. But for the Grand Conclave, I'd recommend not participating," Cai Maomao said, gritting his teeth.
"Why?"
"Last year, Senior Sister Zhao topped the Sword Debate but wasn't satisfied. She joined the Conclave."
"And lost?"
"Against a hundred and twenty Sword Cultivators, even a genius with heaven-defying abilities stands no chance," Cai Maomao took a deep breath, his smile filled with bitterness. "Moreover, the Grand Conclave follows a knockout system with pairs. The initial battle pairs the first against the eighth. If we join, our first battle would be against the strongest, the First Sword Peak."
"Was she injured?" Yun Xiao asked, his eyes drifting to the woman in the black gown up ahead.
"Yes, she took half a year to recover and is still plagued by lingering wounds," Cai Maomao said, his voice filled with sympathy and regret.
Yun Xiao was acutely aware of the deep sword wounds that adorned Zhao Xuanran's body. It was a brutal testament to battles fought, a constellation of scars that told stories of valor and pain. He couldn't recall ever seeing a woman bearing such a history on her skin, scars that whispered tales of countless sword fights. It left him with a blend of awe and concern, unsure if he should admire her resilience or worry for her wellbeing.
Out of nowhere, Cai Maomao exclaimed, "They're distributing Sword Points!"
Sword Points, ethereal manifestations of a cultivator's prowess, hovered around an individual like fireflies dancing in the night sky. As Cai Maomao spoke, a single point settled beside him, a modest representation of his skill. Meanwhile, ten luminous points circled Yun Xiao, a testament to his formidable abilities. It was a dance of light that heralded the commencement of the Eight Swords Conclave, a contest of swordsmanship where reputations were forged and shattered.
With his newly acquired points, Yun Xiao also received his initial dueling platform assignment for the Sword Debate. "I'm Number 003. What about you?" Yun Xiao asked, a flicker of enthusiasm lighting up his eyes.
"Number 205," Cai Maomao replied, chest puffed out in a mixture of pride and defiance.
Yun Xiao chuckled, "That's quite a distance from me. Remember, don't hesitate to forfeit if you must."
His concern was genuine; the gap in their platform numbers made it impossible to aid Cai Maomao if things went awry. But Cai Maomao rolled his eyes dramatically, showcasing a flamboyant fearlessness. "Do you really think I need a reminder to value my own life? Those rascals will certainly try to provoke me, to taunt and humiliate me into fighting them. But, I intend to survive!" His bold words belied the sadness that suddenly swelled in his eyes, a raw emotion that spoke volumes. It wasn't death he feared, but the prospect of leaving his brother alone in a world fraught with peril.
Suddenly, a wave of murmurs rolled through the crowd gathered on Conclave Mountain, drawing their attention.
"Jiang Yue, with thirty Sword Points?" someone exclaimed, disbelief weaving through their words.
"She's not even the Top Sword, how did she receive such a high initial value? This isn't fair, is it?"
"The decision was unanimous among the Seven Sword Venerables," someone else chimed in, attempting to bring a semblance of reason to the escalating whispers.
"The higher the Sword Points, the greater the risk and reward. Defeating her is equivalent to triumphing over thirty Late Dragon Spring Realm opponents!"
"But who would dare? Azure Spirit only has one foolhardy novice in the Sword Pavilion!"
"Well, true."
"Let's not compare ourselves to Jiang Yue, she's a freakish genius."
Within the buzzing crowd, Jiang Yue stood as a beacon of brilliance and raw talent, an empress among prodigies. A halo of thirty twinkling points encircled her, each shining brightly, drawing envious stares from every corner of Conclave Mountain.
"With my heavenly talent, who dares to challenge me?" Jiang Yue declared, her eyes frosty yet alight with confidence. A smile graced her face, a beautiful blend of pride and anticipation for the battles that lay ahead.
"The Sword Debate begins! All participants, ascend to your dueling platforms!" Ye Tiance's booming voice echoed through the mountains, tinged with eager anticipation.
Everyone had been assigned a starting dueling platform number. Yun Xiao was set for platform number three. With the defeat of the first opponent, the challengers could then move freely to engage others, seizing their Sword Points, in a brutal contest that wouldn't cease until the half-hour mark.
The rules were as fierce as they came, a pure embodiment of brutality, sparking a fervent fervor that surged through the gathered masses like a tidal wave of heated blood.
There came the sound of boots on wood, an orchestrated drumroll as over eight hundred contestants scaled more than four hundred dueling platforms that stood scattered in the grand arena. Cai Maomao found himself at a considerable distance from Yun Xiao, having to half-run and half-jog to find his designated spot before leaping onto it with a mixture of determination and dread.
But before he could even catch his breath, a frigid gaze locked onto him, a sensation akin to plunging into an icy abyss enveloping him.
"You belong to the Sword Pavilion, don't you?" The voice, as cold as the frozen lakes in winter, belonged to a woman who made her deductions from the sword robe that adorned Cai Maomao.
With great difficulty, Cai Maomao lifted his head to meet her eyes. A young woman stood before him, adorned with twinkling points of light dancing around her and exuding a frosty aura that seemed to swirl and cascade in all directions.
"Jiang Yue?!" Cai Maomao's entire frame quaked at the realization.
But before he could muster another thought, Ye Tiancai, the presiding figure at the event, announced the beginning of the grand duel. Panic surged through Cai Maomao, quick as lightning, forcing him to step back with hands raised in surrender.
"I surrender! I forfeit!" he yelled, his voice echoing across the arena. This declaration would mean Jiang Yue acquired his Sword Points and had the freedom to challenge a different opponent.
A sigh of relief escaped him as he retreated, but this ephemeral peace was shattered as Jiang Yue's eyes turned colder still, a frosty abyss in her gaze.
"Dogs of the Sword Pavilion must die!" Jiang Yue hissed, unsheathing her weapon.
A metallic ring echoed throughout the arena as a Sword Soul with the ferocity of the Divine Sea Realm shot forth, morphing into a Flying Sword targeting him.
"You're breaking the..." Cai Maomao started, his face a canvas of hues between fear and anger. He had surrendered; she shouldn't have attacked.
But anger could do little against the Sword Soul that was now aimed at his throat, a clear intention to kill hanging in the air. In a desperate bid for survival, Cai Maomao summoned every ounce of strength to dodge the attack.
With a grotesque sound, the frosty Sword Soul grazed past his shoulder, leaving a trail of blood that painted the sky a gruesome red.
Cai Maomao let out a scream, a wail of pure agony as he tumbled down from the dueling platform. His right arm hung grotesquely, almost severed and gushing a river of blood. The icy power of the Sword Soul seeped into his wound, freezing and nearly rendering the entire arm useless.
Fire ignited in Cai Maomao's eyes as he glared at Jiang Yue, spitting out words fueled by pure rage and humiliation. "I forfeited, yet you dare to break the rules and attack me!"
"The rules prohibit killing people, not slaughtering dogs," Jiang Yue retorted, her icy smile cutting deeper than any sword. She flew off the dueling platform, her vengeful trajectory clear as she approached the fallen Cai Maomao with murderous intent.
Cai Maomao, a figure carved from desperation and fear, scanned his surroundings. The elders, supposed pillars of justice and order, stood arms crossed and gazes lifted towards the heavens, seeming to be entranced by the ethereal patterns of the clouds rather than attending to the carnage unfolding below.
"Y-you all!" Cai Maomao cried out, his face drained of all color, resembling dampened earth after a ruthless storm. A dreadful premonition clawed at him. His life thread was fraying rapidly, threatening to snap at any moment. Desperation clawed at his voice, a somber note amidst the chaos, "Brother..."
It was a pitiful and heartbreaking sound, tinged with the despair of knowing that he might not survive to see his brother return. Tears mingled with snot, painting lines of anguish across his grimy face. A mosaic of despair crafted with the most bitter of mediums.
Meanwhile, not too far away, at the bustling third sword dueling platform, an urgent cry sliced through the din. Blue Star exclaimed, sounding alarm bells that reverberated ominously in Yun Xiao's chest, "Your Senior Brother Cai is up against Jiang Yue. She intends to kill him!"
In that fleeting moment, Yun Xiao's eyes ignited with a blood-red fury that could scorch the heavens. Though he had carried the mantle of Sect Master's disciple with stoic calm, the camaraderie and warmth Cai Maomao brought into his life melted the icy barricades around his heart.
Friendship, a beacon in the darkness of solitude, was now under threat. Friendship was not to be trampled upon, not while Yun Xiao drew breath. How many true friends does one find in a lifetime?
With a fiery resolve burning in his eyes, Yun Xiao felt a murderous intent boiling within him, fierce enough to sear the heavens themselves. Just then, a scornful voice pierced through his bubbling wrath, a taunt that added fuel to the raging inferno within him.
'Yun Xiao, mark my words. I'll crush you this time!" Wu Jianyang stood defiantly opposite him, filled with the kind of arrogance that only stemmed from the privilege of lineage. The son of the Third Sword Venerable, a blight upon Yun Xiao's path. Fresh from a pampering recovery laden with a fortune of pills, he was back with a vengeance, ready to squash Yun Xiao beneath his boot in a shameful display of power.
"Just watch. You're dead!" His snide laughter, filled with wicked mirth, echoed ominously. A laughter that boasted of victory before the battle had even begun, a laughter that grated on Yun Xiao's nerves, igniting a primal fury within him.
But as the nefarious laughter still echoed in the air, a streak of azure light flashed past. In a heartbeat, laughter morphed into a grotesque silence, as Wu Jianyang's head exploded into a spray of blood and gore, a grisly flower blooming amidst the carnage, his lifeless body crumpling to the ground in a dance of death, blood splattering like a morbid rain.
"Jiang Yue!" In the ensuing silence, a roar thundered across the dueling platforms, a tempest of rage and vengeance birthed from Yun Xiao's throat. And with an elemental fury coursing through him, he rose upon his Sovereign Sword, soaring across the Conclave Mountain in a single bound.