C36 – Admit Defeat
“What are you doing?” Ni Zhenlin was taken aback, his expression one of sheer surprise. He lowered the wooden sword he was holding.
Just monts before, he had nearly knocked Ni Huibo out of the competition with a single strike, and now, here he was, expressing gratitude. It seed quite ridiculous.
Ni Huibo straightened up, fixing his gaze on Ni Zhenlin, and spoke with earnest, “You have no idea – that sword strike of yours just now led to an epiphany with the cultivation thod I’ve been stuck on for ages.”
“All because of that?”
“Yes.”
Ni Zhenlin’s mouth twitched slightly. Observing Ni Huibo’s serious deanor, he was overwheld with mixed emotions.
Tales of sudden insights during combat were plentiful, yet most were re fabrications. Very few had the chance to witness or experience such a thing firsthand. In this regard, Ni Huibo must possess so natural talent.
Still, it was the first ti Ni Zhenlin had encountered soone offering thanks for such a reason. His sword had not been intended as a lesson in cultivation thods; his true aim had been victory.
Such genuine individuals were rare, especially considering the many who had perished.
Ni Zhenlin gave Ni Huibo a complex look, reflecting on his own trials within the Ni family, and shook his head slightly.
“I concede,” Ni Zhenlin declared, turning his back and tossing the wooden sword aside before making his way to the spectator seats.
“Ni Huibo wins!”
The referee didn’t dwell on the details. Seeing Ni Zhenlin’s voluntary surrender, he proclaid the outco loudly.
The crowd erupted into a frenzy at the announcent.
“What just happened?”
“Did I miss sothing? Why is the match over?”
“I’m not sure. Ni Zhenlin just seed to suddenly give up.”
“Is it possible that Ni Huibo has the power to control minds?”
Whispers of confusion, skepticism, and wild speculation rippled through the audience, so tinged with a hint of fear.
As Ni Zhenlin reached the stands, the younger mbers of the crowd sward around him, eager for an explanation.
“Stop asking. He’s better than , so I gave up,” Ni Zhenlin responded with a smile, his rapport with so of the onlookers evident.
Just then, another voice chid in from nearby.
“You can’t even beat a piece of trash; what good are you?”
The identity of the voice’s owner was clear to many. They remained silent and returned to their seats.
“Ni Situo, what are you implying?”
Ni Zhenlin’s brows were tightly knit as he stared at Ni Situo, who stood a short distance away, his eyes narrowing.
“Listen up. Even though I’m no longer the junior patriarch, you’d do well to watch how you look at .”
Ni Situo’s tone started off with a hint of disdain but quickly turned icy. He was unabashedly threatening him.
Ni Zhenlin stood up abruptly, pointing at Ni Situo, but ultimately held his tongue.
Despite no longer being the junior patriarch, Ni Situo was still the patriarch’s son with strength at the second level, highly esteed by the family, and not soone Ni Zhenlin could provoke. Though enraged, he kept his composure, snorted coldly, and sat back down.
“You’re wise to recognize your place. To be honest, I’m not particularly interested in you. I was just taken aback that you would concede to a nobody, and I felt compelled to give you a little education.”
With a shake of his head that conveyed disappointnt, Ni Situo departed.
The first round consisted of five matches and was over quickly. To allow the victors ample rest, the second round was scheduled for two hours later, while the day was still young.
Aside from Ni Huibo, nineteen others advanced, including Ni Situo without surprise. Additionally, Ni Yirong, Ni Shang, and Ni Yong all made it through, showcasing their exceptional talent.
At that point, they had each reached the late period of the first level. Ni Yirong, in particular, had attained Great Perfection and was on the verge of stepping into the second level, a breakthrough that could happen at any mont. Such achievents earned the family elders’ respect.
These three were the only ones among the Ni family’s younger generation to have reached the late period of the first level.
Ni Huibo sat in a corner, observing his fellow cultivators in ditative poses, a look of helplessness in his eyes.
He was suddenly overco with a sense of guilt.
He was at the late stage of the second level, yet he deliberately chose to blend in with those at the middle stage of the first level, even feigning to be at their level of skill.
Deception was not his forte, nor was he comfortable with the current predicant.
“I don’t want to deceive anyone; this is all at the behest of our patriarch. You can’t hold this against ,” Ni Huibo murmured to himself. Shaking off these distractions, he refocused on his cultivation.
He had briefly touched upon the realm described by the Clear Qi thod, but the exposure was fleeting. He needed to delve deeper to reap any benefits and possibly master this cultivation thod.
His mind replayed the sensations he had experienced as ti swiftly passed.
“Since embarking on the Immortal Path, my perception of ti has grown increasingly vague, particularly during cultivation, when it seems to accelerate,” he reflected with a hint of wistfulness, feeling as though only monts had passed.
The twenty victors erged from the resting area and made their way back to the training field. The sa table and box awaited them, though the number of black lots had been halved.
Ni Huibo was the last to draw, waiting until the others had finished before selecting the final lot.
“One?”
He examined the black lot in his hand, glancing around curiously. With fewer competitors, the likelihood of facing a late-stage contender was high, and a direct confrontation with Ni Situo was possible.
The prospect of battling Ni Situo was least appealing to him. It ant either conceding defeat or revealing his full capabilities, neither of which he desired.
Soon, the official tallying the numbers approached, recorded his entry, and collected the remaining black lots.
With the number one, Ni Huibo was slated to be the first to step into the arena. Without hesitation, he advanced toward the center.
Just then, an announcent echoed across the field.
“In area one, Ni Huibo versus Ni Yong. In area two, Ni Yirong versus Ni Shang.”
Ni Huibo paused, turning around in mild astonishnt, but he quickly composed himself and continued to the heart of the arena.
Atop the elevated stage, Ni Xianjian’s face grew stormy as he took in the sequence of the upcoming battles.
“Why did I have to draw such a lot?”
”Don’t worry, Patriarch. There are more challenges ahead,” a person beside him assured, offering a reassuring smile. Ni Xianjian felt sowhat displeased with the schedule.
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