Chapter 3: The Tournament and the Traitor’s Face
The Inner Disciple Tournament was held in the sect’s main arena, a vast stone structure that could hold thousands of spectators. Lin Yue stood in the waiting area, surrounded by other disciples—some curious, some hostile. Zhang Hao was there, too, flanked by his cronies, his eyes locked on Lin Yue like a predator.
“The first match: Lin Yue vs. Wang Tao!” the announcer shouted.
Wang Tao was a burly disciple with a reputation for brute strength, his cultivation at the mid Qi Refining Stage. He stepped into the arena, cracking his knuckles. “I’ll make this quick, waste. One punch, and you’ll be begging for mercy.”
Lin Yue walked onto the sand, ignoring the jeers from the crowd. Long Xuan’s voice echoed in his mind: “Use the Dragon Fist. Focus your qi into your fist—let the dragon’s power break through his defenses.”
The bell rang. Wang Tao charged, his fist glowing with yellow qi. Lin Yue didn’t dodge. He channeled dragon qi into his right fist, which erupted in a burst of blue light, and punched forward.
Boom!
The two fists collided. Wang Tao’s eyes widened, then he screamed as the dragon qi surged through his arm, breaking his bones. He flew backward, crashing into the arena wall, and didn’t move.
The crowd fell silent. Then someone cheered—Xiao Yu, standing in the front row, her hands cupped around her mouth. “Lin Yue! You did it!”
Lin Yue bowed slightly, then walked off the arena. Zhang Hao’s face was red with anger. “Lucky shot,” he muttered. But his hands were shaking.
Match after match, Lin Yue won—each time using the Azure Dragon Codex’s techniques, each time surprising the crowd. By the final round, he’d reached the early Foundation Establishment Stage, his meridians almost fully repaired. And now, he stood in the arena facing Zhang Hao.
Zhang Hao held a long sword, its blade glowing with white qi. “I’ll not only beat you,” he snarled. “I’ll cripple you. Just like I did three years ago.”
Lin Yue froze. “You… you were the one who poisoned me?”
“Of course,” Zhang Hao laughed. “Your father found out about my father’s plan to steal the sect’s artifact. So we silenced him—and made you a waste, so you couldn’t avenge him. Now, I’ll finish the job.”
The crowd gasped. Even Master Liu, sitting in the judges’ box, looked shocked. Lin Yue’s blood boiled. All the humiliation, all the pain—because of Zhang Hao and his father. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened them, his eyes were glowing with blue light.
“Dragon’s Wrath,” he whispered.
Dragon qi surged around him, forming a swirling tornado of blue energy. Zhang Hao charged, swinging his sword, but the dragon qi knocked the weapon out of his hand. Lin Yue appeared behind him, his fist glowing with the power of a storm.
“For my father,” he said.
He punched Zhang Hao in the back. The dragon qi exploded, sending Zhang Hao flying. He landed on the sand, blood pooling around him, his cultivation completely shattered.
The crowd cheered—loud, wild cheers. Xiao Yu ran onto the arena, throwing her arms around Lin Yue. “You won! You won!”
But Lin Yue’s eyes were on the judges’ box. Zhang Hao’s father, Elder Zhang, was standing, his face pale. He turned to run, but two sect elders stepped in front of him, their hands on their swords. “Elder Zhang,” one said. “You’re under arrest for treason.”
Long Xuan’s voice sighed in Lin Yue’s mind. “One enemy down. But your father’s still missing. And the artifact—my Azure Dragon Codex’s companion, the Azure Dragon Pearl—is still out there. Your journey is just beginning.”
Lin Yue nodded. He knew this wasn’t the end. But as he looked at Xiao Yu’s smiling face, at the crowd cheering his name, he felt something he hadn’t felt in years: hope. He’d been a waste, a pariah, a broken boy. But now, with the Azure Dragon Codex, with friends who believed in him, he was ready to take on the world.
And nothing would stop him.