Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Martial Arts Tournament for a Bride

Seeing the mounting discussions below, Guo Tian made a gesture, and the assembly immediately quieted down. With a gentle smile, Guo Tian spoke, “Though this matter is grave, I and the heads of the great sects already have a plan in place, so I urge you all to rest assured. As long as we face this together, I am certain we will resolve it. There is no need for undue anxiety.”

His words soothed the crowd, and from among them someone called out, “We trust in Master Guo and will stand with him through this trial!” Soon, similar voices rose in support.

A smile lit Guo Tian’s face. “Thank you for your trust. Now, the Yishan Gathering shall begin. As you all know, my daughter has reached the age of fifteen, and it is time for her to marry. Thus, I hope today to choose a hero among you to be her husband.” With those words, he withdrew to the rear.

At that moment, an elder stepped forward to the dais—the master of ceremonies for this grand occasion. “Thank you all for coming. Now, let us welcome Miss Guo.”

All eyes turned, shining with anticipation. It was well-known that two years ago, Miss Guo had been hailed as the most beautiful woman in Yunteng. To see her in person was worth the journey alone.

A graceful maiden soon appeared on the second tier of the platform. Her attire was crisp and neat, her face as fair as porcelain, her eyes bright, her brows like delicate crescents, and her glossy hair cascading perfectly down her shoulders. Her presence was dazzling—a peerless beauty, truly a blessing earned over nine lifetimes for any man who could take her as his wife. Yet, despite her beauty, her face was devoid of the slightest smile. Even so, her image in everyone’s mind was not diminished; the sword at her waist only added to her remarkable aura.

Yi Xin, upon seeing her, whispered into Nuotian’s ear, “Young Master, this Miss Guo is truly stunning. Why don’t you take the stage, win the contest, and bring her home as your bride?”

Nuotian glanced at the girl’s teasing expression and replied, “Miss Guo is indeed beautiful, but I doubt anyone will be able to claim this rare bloom today.”

“Why not?” Yi Xin asked curiously.

“She is not as simple as she appears. She has reached the peak of the Mortal Entry realm. At her age, that is truly extraordinary,” Nuotian remarked casually.

“The peak of the Mortal Entry realm?” Yi Xin was taken aback. That was nearly on par with her own strength. Such power at such a young age was almost unimaginable. Could it be that Master Guo himself has surpassed the Mortal Entry realm? Do they have connections with cultivators?

Sensing her confusion, Nuotian explained, “Master Guo is already at the Heroic Realm. It seems they do have ties to cultivators, and their long-standing presence here is likely due to those connections.”

Qin Yixin looked at the surging crowd, especially Zhang Xianba on the other side, who seemed to have lost all sense of himself, and shook her head in sympathy. How could a girl of such talent possibly end up marrying someone like that? It seemed disappointment was inevitable for many.

Soon, Guo Yue ascended to the third tier and took her seat. At this point, the elder announced the rules of the contest. The martial tournament would be open and freeform: anyone who could consecutively defeat ten opponents would enter the final four. Defeat meant elimination, and there was no set order—anyone could step forward at any time. Thus, if the contest proceeded swiftly, only forty bouts would be required to determine the finalists. The final four would each challenge Miss Guo in turn; the victor would have the right to marry her, but the ultimate decision rested with Miss Guo herself, who would choose her husband from among them.

The crowd was surprised—they had not expected to fight Miss Guo herself. Not only would they have to win, but also win her favor, which would not be easy.

There were no objections to the rules; participation was voluntary. If a formidable opponent was already on stage, there was no need to risk embarrassment. Any attempt at cheating or trickery in such a gathering would see one cast out from the martial world, especially with so many sect leaders present.

Very soon, a man leapt onto the stage. He appeared to be about thirty, and his strength was at the third level of the Mortal Entry realm. The rules allowed any man under thirty-five to compete.

He politely introduced himself, but before he could finish, another man sprang onto the stage. The two exchanged blows, and the first man was defeated in ten moves and eliminated from the contest.

In this manner, more than fifty young men took the stage in succession, but none won more than five consecutive matches.

From the highest tier, the sect leaders watched intently. The outcome of these youthful duels spoke to the future of the martial world. One leader near Guo Tian asked, “Master Guo, what do you make of these matches?” The others turned their attention to him as well.

Guo Tian hesitated briefly. “It seems the final four will still come from the great sects, though surprises are possible. Talent abounds among the younger generation these days.”

No one was surprised by his assessment. Sect disciples enjoyed better training and resources than wandering martial artists and were expected to excel. This contest was filled with hope—if a sect’s disciple could claim victory, their sect would ally with the Dragon Soaring Sect, greatly enhancing their own influence.

At this point, the only one remaining on stage was a lone wanderer who had won five matches. He appeared to be in his twenties—a rare talent among the martial world’s youth. Nuotian could tell at a glance that he was at the fifth level of the Mortal Entry realm.

Suddenly, another man in blue soared up from the fringe. With a fair, handsome face, he was the very image of a martial world gentleman. “Zhao Li of the Qinshan Sect requests the honor of a duel.”

Zhao Li’s entrance captured everyone’s attention—he was the first sect disciple to take the stage. Among the crowd, voices rose, “That’s the top young disciple of Qinshan Sect! Looks like the sects are tired of waiting and are ready to clear the field.”

On the viewing platform, the Qinshan Sect leader beamed. “Zhao Li is our finest disciple. He reached the sixth level of the Mortal Entry realm at just twenty years old.”

The other leaders showed signs of admiration. Zhao Li faced the wanderer, and in just three moves, the fifth-level disciple was severely injured and carried off.

This harsh outcome angered the crowd below. Until now, the bouts had been restrained, but the first sect disciple had struck mercilessly, provoking outrage. Yet, aside from Guo Tian, the other sect leaders showed no reaction. For the sect disciples, there was no need for courtesy—wandering martial artists were to be taught their place.

Zhao Li glanced at the crowd with disdain. “You riffraff dare dream of marrying the beautiful Miss Guo?”

This completely infuriated the assembly. Several rushed the stage, but each fell in three moves, seriously injured. Ten challengers were dispatched this way, making Zhao Li the first to secure a place in the final four.

After Zhao Li stepped down, another sect disciple—Shen Yang of the White Tiger Sect—leaped onto the stage. He too dealt harsh blows to five challengers. With Zhao Li having set the tone, Shen Yang would not show weakness. After five matches, other sect disciples began to challenge him, as there were only four spots and many sects vying for them.

But Shen Yang was not only strong in cultivation but also in technique, defeating five sect disciples in a row to secure his own place in the final four.

By now, it was clear that without an overwhelming advantage, victory was impossible. The third spot was claimed in similar fashion, with no wandering martial artists daring to challenge; the contest had become an internal affair among the sect disciples. The third place was claimed by a disciple of North Sea Valley.

When the contest for the fourth spot began, two disciples leapt up almost simultaneously. One greeted the other, “I didn’t expect to see you here, Brother Zhang.”

Brother Zhang sneered, “Did you think I was one of those wanderers? They don’t even have the courage to step onto the stage.”

This remark enraged the crowd. Was this tournament meant only to humiliate the wandering martial artists? The sect disciples’ arrogance was unbearable. Even Zhang Xianba, beside Nuotian, looked as though he was itching to deliver a beating.

Soon, the two disciples determined a victor—Brother Zhang. He exuded an air of superiority. In truth, Zhao Li’s earlier victory owed something to luck; this disciple now displayed the power of the seventh level of the Mortal Entry realm.

Nuotian looked at Zhang Xianba. “If you want to go up, do it now, or you’ll lose your chance.”

Zhang Xianba glanced at his enigmatic young master, exhaled, then strode onto the platform under the astonished eyes of the crowd.

“Isn’t that Zhang Xianba, the most infamous bandit in Yunteng?”

“He dares show his face here? Still, he has real courage to step up now!”

With a roguish flair, Zhang Xianba declared, “You look down on us wanderers? Today I’ll teach you a lesson.” The crowd cheered at his words.

Brother Zhang looked at him with disdain, “Anyone can boast. Watch your tongue, lest you bite it off.”

They soon clashed. Although a seventh-level disciple had appeared, Brother Zhang was not one of them, and with only sixth-level strength, the two were evenly matched.

Zhang Xianba’s performance astonished everyone. Who would have thought the infamous southern bandit had become so powerful? It seemed wise to be wary of him; otherwise, one might suffer dearly if caught in his grasp—a sentiment shared by nearly all present.