Only four undefeated competitors remained. The final rounds were about to decide it all.
The rules were simple: two pairs would battle, the winners of each pair would face off for first place, and the losers would clash for third and fourth.
The entire arena was abuzz, filled with spectators pressing in for a closer look, bets flying back and forth, cheers and jeers blending into a chaotic hum of excitement.
Su Qingshi gripped her sword tightly, knuckles pale, her usually calm and elegant face drawn into a rare, solemn expression. Her fingers tapped once against the hilt, then stilled.
Beside her, a younger female disciple leaned in, whispering in a soft, conspiratorial tone, "Senior Sister, who would you rather meet in this phase?"
Su Qingshi's eyes flicked sideways. Her gaze landed first on the blindfolded Gojo, the arrogant figure lounging lazily, chewing on a ripe peach like he didn't have a care in the world.
Then her eyes drifted to the impeccably poised Li Tianheng, seated with one leg crossed over the other, his white paper fan fluttering delicately in his slender fingers. Handsome, refined, and calm, Li Tianheng exuded the effortless grace of someone born into nobility.
Su Qingshi lowered her gaze and exhaled softly. "Chen Zhen looks harmless," she murmured, "but I don't think even Li Tianheng would be his match. I'd lose if I have to fight him."
The younger disciple gasped, eyes wide, glancing nervously at Gojo. Across the waiting area, another figure sat quietly, Feng Xiaoyao, the green-robed archer, a silver-blue crystal bow resting against her knees.
Fingers idly plucking the taut bowstring, she stole a glance at Gojo. The moment her gaze touched him, Gojo turned, his blindfold shifting slightly, and gave her a mischievous smile. Feng Xiaoyao flushed furiously and whipped her gaze away, heart pounding.
"The pairings for the semifinals are as follows!" a presiding elder called, rising to his feet. His voice, laced with spiritual energy, thundered across the arena, silencing the crowd.
"Chen Zhen versus Feng Xiaoyao! Su Qingshi versus Li Tianheng!"
The arena exploded with noise. Cheers, boos, arguments, and laughter rippled through the crowd as the bets intensified. Disciples waved their arms, shouting the names of their favorites, while elders murmured amongst themselves.
Gojo stretched lazily, finishing the last bite of his peach, then rose to his feet with a casual grin. Hands sliding into the pockets of his martial arts gi, he strolled out onto the arena floor, whistling softly.
His carefree demeanor contrasted starkly with the tense atmosphere, drawing even more eyes toward him.
Feng Xiaoyao walked slowly from the opposite side. Her fists clenched tightly at her sides, shoulders squared, lips pressed into a thin line. She stopped before him, her silver bow gleaming under the sunlight, and faced him with a determined gaze.
"I don't think I can win against you, Chen Zhen," she said softly. Her words sent a ripple of shock through the audience.
Gojo tilted his head, his smile fading slightly. "So?" he asked, sitting cross-legged on the edge of the arena, resting his cheek on his fist. "What are you proposing?"
Feng Xiaoyao inhaled deeply, her fingers tightening around her bow. "I want to fight you anyway. Whether I win, lose, or die… it doesn't matter."
Gojo sighed, shaking his head. He could see right through her. She was hoping to use him for PR. Even in guaranteed defeat, people would admire her bravery. But what would he gain? Nothing but wasted time and Yuan power.
Still, he knew her mind was set. There was no coercing someone with that kind of resolve. "Fine," he muttered. "Bring it on."
Without rising, Gojo lounged on the ground, one hand draped across his knee, the other loosely resting at his side. His blindfolded face wore a faint smirk.
Feng Xiaoyao knocked an arrow onto her bowstring. The silver-blue crystal glowed, burning with concentrated Yuan Power. With a soft chant, her voice steady despite her racing heart, she declared: "Sun Piercing Art… Sky Sundering Rain!"
Rather than aiming directly at Gojo, she fired her arrow skyward. The projectile vanished into the clouds with a faint, shimmering trail. Confused murmurs erupted among the spectators.
"What is she doing?"
"He's right there!"
"How did someone like her make it to the top four?"
Ignoring the jeers, Feng Xiaoyao raised her bow and closed her eyes, focusing. Slowly, the Yuan power gathered in the heavens. The air crackled as the clouds churned, heavy with built-up energy.
Gojo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He felt it too: the surge of Yuan Power above, condensing into countless shimmering points. His Six Eyes twitched under the blindfold, analyzing the energy signatures, calculating.
Suddenly, the sky opened, and thousands of glowing arrow-like projectiles rained down, roaring toward Gojo. Each carried the weight to pulverize stone, the speed to pierce metal.
The audience gasped, eyes wide, as the ground shook with the oncoming storm.
Gojo let out a light sigh. He flexed his fingers. Space around him shimmered and twisted, reflections warping as if he were a mirage. The very air bent unnaturally, layers of distorted dimensions rippling around his seated form.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Arrows collided, exploded, vaporized on impact with the warped space. Thunderous blasts rocked the arena, shaking the ground beneath the crowd's feet. Clouds of dust rose, obscuring vision, while the crowd held its breath.
"Is he okay?"
"Did she really get him?"
Feng Xiaoyao wiped sweat from her brow, her chest heaving slightly, knocking another arrow onto her string. But just as she drew back, the world rippled, the air singing like struck crystal.
A single slash of dimensional energy tore through the dust. It carved a deep gash into the arena floor, obliterating the ground in its path, humming with raw spatial power. The sound was deafening, the sensation overwhelming.
Feng Xiaoyao froze. Her limbs wouldn't obey. Eyes wide, breath caught in her throat, she watched as a thin strand of her own hair drifted gently to the ground, severed cleanly by the force of Gojo's attack.
But death never came.
The wind from the dimensional slash swept past her, sending her tumbling to the ground, her bow clattering from her grip. She coughed, her vision spinning, heart pounding so hard she could barely hear.
As the dust settled, Gojo remained seated, looking almost bored. He rested his cheek on his hand, eyes hidden behind his blindfold. "Do you still want to continue?" he asked softly.
Feng Xiaoyao's hands trembled. She forced herself upright, heart heavy. She bowed deeply, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for the match, Senior Brother." Then, trembling, she walked off the stage, shoulders drooping.
Gojo exhaled, shaking his head with a small chuckle. It wasn't that she was weak. Not at all. Even Ma Kui, the brute Su Qingshi had defeated earlier, would have struggled against her. But to stand against him? That was another matter entirely.
People like Xiao Wusheng came to mind, heaven-defying geniuses who could crush other world class talents in three or four moves. Firepower, adaptability, sheer monstrous talent, it wasn't fair, but the world didn't care about fairness. Not everyone was destined to stand at the top.
Stretching, Gojo turned lazily toward the elders. "If it's possible," he called, his voice carrying effortlessly across the hushed arena, "why don't we just skip to the final? Mrs. Sword Lady, the shaman, and I triple threat battle for the top spot."
His words hung in the air for a heartbeat.
Then the crowd exploded.
"Incredible! Worthy of the main event!"
"Yes! That's what we want to see! Agree! Agree!"
The chants spread like wildfire, a tidal wave of excitement crashing through the spectators. The presiding elder, momentarily speechless, turned to the sect master and gathered elders, exchanging glances.
Finally, after a brief pause, the sect master nodded with a faint smile.
The crowd roared, jubilation shaking the very pillars of the arena.
Everyone was ecstatic.
Everyone except Su Qingshi and Li Tianheng.
Su Qingshi gripped her sword tighter, her jaw set. She had anticipated facing Li Tianheng first, preparing her heart and mind for his refined, precise techniques. But now? Facing both him and Chen Zhen at once?
Li Tianheng, on the other hand, closed his fan softly, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. His lips curled slightly upward, though whether it was in anticipation or annoyance, no one could tell.
Chen Zhen simply stretched his arms, grinning widely, basking in the roars of the crowd. This was more like it. No drawn-out semifinals, no tedious formality. Just a proper, chaotic brawl at the top.
The main event was about to begin.
A/N: Hey everyone, we need more engagement from you the readers. Your comments and reviews do really help me know what's wrong and what to improve. Keep them coming in, any rebuke, reproach, advice, would be duely welcomed. Thank you.