Liu Wei stood on the edge of the loge, hands folded behind his back, and looked down onto the fight. It was quite a distance away, but using Qi to improve his already strong sight, he could still make out every moving muscle of the two contestants.

  It was an interesting fight and the two were closely matched, even though he was already quite certain about the outcome. Their struggle very much reminded him of his own first time competing in a tournament like this.

  It hadn’t been nearly such a grand occasion – something on this scale didn’t happen to every generation of disciples – and he hadn’t even made it that far, but it was still a memory that he liked to look back upon.

  It had been a competition with several smaller sects from the surrounding area and he had managed to qualify by little more than pure chance – just a youngling who had been freshly picked as an inner disciple after displaying a comparatively modest amount of talent with the sword.

  He vividly remembered the suspense of waiting for the next duel, not knowing the strength of the opponent he’d have to face next; the exhilarating feeling of defeating another challenger and raising one’s sword in triumph to the cheers of the crowd; ultimately, the mix of disappointment and relief of having lost, wrapped up in a blanket of pure exhaustion.

  That tournament had been a key experience in lighting the fire of ambition within his chest. There had been other geniuses back then, other rising stars that were looked up to by the remaining disciples and hailed as the vanguard of the next generation by the older cultivators. He had admired them as well. He had worked himself to the bone to become stronger, faster, better – just for a chance to one day stand behind them.

  He sighed in a mix of nostalgia and melancholy. Liu Wei, Dancing Flame of the North, strongest elder of the Lunar Peaks Sect, had long since outgrown all of them and never stopped despite that. The last few of the young stars of his generation had faded out centuries ago. Just he… that inconspicuous young disciple that had been eliminated in the third round by the hands of another inconspicuous disciple whose name and legacy had long been lost to time for the wider world… just he was still here.

  And now he was the one to care for another generation…

  “You seem contemplative. I hope we aren’t disturbing you?”

  “No, you aren’t. I was just lost in thoughts.”

  Ma Rong, accompanied by Patriarch Tengfei Ye came up to him and joined him at the railing, looking down at the fight.

  “Quite the impressive youngsters, aren’t they?”

  “They are.”

  “Your Sect really showed up here with quite the talent, if I may say so.”, Tengfei Ye commented.

  “You say that when your own have been the ones to steal the show.”

  They really had been. Two of the four half-finalists in this age group belonged to the Serene Plains Sect and they had done similarly well in the others. One of them, a descendant of the Patriarch himself, had been the one to defeat Chonglin. Liu Wei couldn’t be happy about that, but he had to concede that it had been a deserved victory and a glorious defeat. The fight had been a marvel of strategy, prediction and wringing for minor advantages. In the end, Chonglin had been outdone at his own game.

  “You are flattering me, but I can’t deny that I am very proud of my sect’s disciples. They have done great and deserve to be credited. I’ll have to look out for them in the future as well. Their performance doesn’t take away from these two though, they seem every bit as skilled as the others who have already qualified. Any guesses on who will win?”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  He gestured at the fight. “They seem equally matched to me.”

  “I think we should keep our speculations on that to ourselves out of respect for the fighters.”

  “Oh yes, you are probably right. Let me change the topic then. Elder Wei, I hear that you have taken on a disciple recently, is that true?”

  “I have indeed. Her name is Qingge.”

  “That is quite the piece of news. If I’m not mistaken, you haven’t accepted any disciples before, have you?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Then she is truly lucky. And surely of incredible talent to match!”

  “She is very talented, yes, though that wasn’t the whole reason I chose her.”

  “Oh?”

  “She is a girl of great character, one that I value very much. And she is intelligent beyond her age, though she naturally still lacks the experience.”

  “I see. Say, speaking of disciples, do you still own the tailfeather of that Ancient Storm Eagle Empress you slew a decade ago?”

  “Mhmm… I think I do, yes. Why are you asking?”

  “You see, my own disciple has recently entered the Dao Attunement Realm. I would like to commemorate that achievement with a gift of appropriate proportions. He has been extremely fascinated with flight ever since I picked him when he was little, but since he is not a Wind Cultivator, he won’t be able to gain it by himself before stepping into the Dao Contemplation Realm. I want to have an artifact crafted for him that skips that step, and the feather would make for a perfect base for that.”

  “A generous gift, but I understand your sentiment.”

  It was generous indeed. True flight artifacts were exceedingly rare and valuable, requiring incredible expertise and exotic materials to craft.

  “I suppose I could part with it. It won’t come cheap though; we are both well aware of how seldom one of these Eagles makes its way to the continent.”

  “It wouldn’t ever occur to me to offer you an unfair deal. Say, what do you say to this…”

  …

  Qiao let herself drop to the floor, dodging a wide slash before rolling backwards out of range of the follow-up kick. She panted heavily as she jumped to her feet again, pointing her sword at her opponent in a challenging manner.

  This fight had been going on for well over twenty minutes now and she was feeling it in every part of her body. Heng Zhou wasn’t off any better though. His face was red from exertion, his clothes were ripped and his body bruised from the countless minor hits that Qiao had managed to sneak in between her dodging and defending.

  Both of them had been getting slower and more conservative with their attacks as they tried to ration the little strength they had left. Neither of their original approaches had worked out, Heng Zhou being too skilled at defending to be overwhelmed by Qiao’s speed and her being too aware of the surroundings and the situation to let herself be cornered – her matches with Chonglin had taught her that. Consequently, the match had devolved into the brutal fight of attrition that had led them to where they were now.

  Heng Zhou once again brought his saber into the resting position that he favored and readied to charge in once again. This time, however, as he was moving the blade, Qiao noticed that it was shaking. This was new. She decided to try something, tightening her grip onto her sword.

  When Heng Zhou attacked her once again, she didn’t try to dodge or deflect; instead, she met the attack with her own, putting in most of what she had left.

  With a mighty clang, the blades met. Qiao felt the shock run through her arm, but she held firm. Heng Zhou, clearly surprised by her move, struggled just the same but held as well. For a moment, Qiao thought that she had miscalculated. But then, when she took a step forward and pushed, planning to use that to get out of the bind, the resistance suddenly let up and her opponent stumbled.

  Now or never!

  Instead of jumping back like she had wanted to, Qiao advanced further and attacked again. Heng Zhou managed to maneuver his weapon in the way, but the angle was off, and he had not yet stabilized himself. When the weapons met, his saber was flung out of his grip and off of the stage. Before he could gather himself, Qiao had put her blade against his throat. For a moment, it seemed like he was not sure what to do, even like he was considering trying to attack her without a weapon. Then, a loud voice interrupted the two.

  “Halt! The match is over!”

  The monitoring cultivator came from the side, pushing the two apart and putting himself between them.

  “Young Lady Qiao Bai wins by disarming and securing her opponent!”

  It was over.

  Qiao wanted to lay down right here but forced herself to sheathe her sword as calmly and gracefully as she could, given her state. The words of the announcer flew over her as she slowly walked off the stage, down the stairs and towards the exit, all of her attention focused on keeping her head high and her posture acceptable.

  Like this, she made it out of the public eye and into the contestants’ waiting area, where Zixin and Chonglin were already waiting for her. As they noticed and approached her, a supreme dizziness overcame her, accompanied by her full exhaustion.

  Before they could greet her, she lost consciousness and collapsed.

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