On the tenth day of the tenth month, under watchful eyes of every kind, this year's Three-City Trial began.
First-years, third-years, and fifth-years competed separately. Maple City's two first-years, for instance, would each fight one opponent from Three Mountain City and one from Riverview City.
After the first round, the three winners switched to a rotation format: A fought B, B fought C, C fought A. Win, three points; draw, one; loss, zero. The highest score took the first-year championship.
This measured both individual strength and overall academy depth — after all, in the final rotation, if two contestants came from the same academy, they could conserve their strength and focus on the third.
The first-year matches came first. Six cultivators, three cities, three battles at once.
The grounds were set in the plaza before the city lord's mansion. Because it often served as the mustering ground before the city guard marched out, the townsfolk called it the Drill Ground.
First-year academy cultivators had mostly just founded their Dao vortices. Their fights leaned on Dao arts, but martial skills still played their part. It was the style of combat the common folk understood best — and so it drew the most spectators.
By early morning, the plaza was packed. Families came in droves, and the city guard had to be called in to hold the line.
That day, An'an's school was closed, so Ling Chuan brought her along to watch. Because the crowd was huge, An'an rode on Ling Chuan's shoulders, clapping her little hands and cheering at the top of her lungs for her brother.
Zhao Yan and Huang Azhan, naturally, were front and center for Jiang Chen's match. But a man of Zhao Yan's wealth would never degrade himself with shouting. Not far off, a dozen burly men he'd hired were bellowing at full volume.
"Jiang Chen, victory! Jiang Chen, victory!"
Two banners snapped in the wind:
Left: "Fists smite Three Mountain — in his eyes, no rival under heaven." Right: "Feet tread Riverview — beneath his seat, who dares call hero."
Jiang Chen would certainly not be grateful.
In a moment, Jiang Chen's name drowned the field. The Trial seemed to have become his personal showcase. People whispered, asking who this Jiang Chen was; learning he was a Maple City contestant, the honest townsfolk roared approval.
Standing on the field, Jiang Chen felt... embarrassed.
The three matches ran side by side; all six contestants shared the space. Jiang Chen caught glances sweeping over him, and realized he had become the common enemy. Were it not for the rules, it might have been five against one. Including that senior brother from his own academy.
"What a show-off!" Lin Zhengli of Riverview City was the most aggrieved. He did not even look at his own opponent, but spat toward Jiang Chen's corner.
The remark landed, unheard. Jiang Chen ignored it.
The Drill Ground was divided into three fighting zones, with wide buffers between the lines.
Cultivators from the county academy served as head judges; two instructors from Maple City Academy as deputies. Combat was simple — whoever fell lost — so there was little risk of bias. The judges' real job was to stop the young cultivators from killing each other when their control slipped.
Jiang Chen's opponent came from Three Mountain City.
Short and stocky, in close-fitting fighting clothes, his muscles thick as stone.
They exchanged the ritual bow and took their positions.
The judge gave the signal. Jiang Chen's sword came out!
Man rising like a dragon, sword like a comet streaking.
Before the Three Mountain City cultivator had even half-formed his hand seal, Jiang Chen was on him.
Decisive. Fast.
Among pre-transcendence techniques, the Violet Dawn Sword Art held crushing dominance.
In the Maple City Academy's internal selection, he had beaten Fang Lin with exactly this move. It seemed about to repeat.
But what surprised Jiang Chen — and the crowd — was that the Three Mountain City cultivator did not dodge!
He did not even move. His eyes fixed on the incoming sword, his hand steady, his hand seal completing under that gaze.
Facing Jiang Chen's speed, his options were to abandon the seal and dodge, or surrender outright. If he dodged, he would never have time for a follow-up art.
He made a choice completely different from Fang Lin's!
Earth-element essence surged. Jiang Chen felt power erupting from the ground beneath him, and knew exactly what it was.
He could have run his sword through the man's heart before the spikes came — but his own feet would be pierced by the rising earth spikes.
Trade a wound for a death: he would still win. But he didn't want to win that way.
Jiang Chen twisted his sword, brushed the bursting spikes at his feet, and used the contact to flip backward, returning to his original spot.
Only then did the dense field of sharp earth spikes fill the space around the Three Mountain City cultivator.
The man from Three Mountain City — the "mountain barbarian" they mocked — had just bought himself a chance with his life.
He immediately kicked out several times, snapping the spikes in front of him and sending them flying. The spikes howled through the air like thrown spears, straight at Jiang Chen.
And the Three Mountain City cultivator charged in behind them.
Under An'an's nervous gaze, Jiang Chen turned like the wind, drifting through the rain of spikes untouched.
The cultivator closed in.
His short, stocky frame leaped high, and his fist hardened to stone, swelling into a mountain-sized boulder.
Stone-Clad Fist!
Offense and defense reversed!
Jiang Chen could not take that head-on. He set his sword edge-first, meaning to use the stone fist's impact to drift away and find a new opening.
After all, a founding-realm cultivator's Dao essence was limited. He couldn't cast many arts. Drag the fight out, and Jiang Chen's swordplay would win.
But the stone fist suddenly twisted, caught hold of the sword — and crushed it!
The Stone-Clad Fist was only a mid-tier Ding-rank art. Jiang Chen had never mastered it, but he knew it well. He had never imagined such a fluid change in this art!
Caught flat-footed, Jiang Chen dropped the hilt, wrapped both arms around the stone fist that had crushed his sword, and wrenched.
The full physical power of the Four-Spirit Body Refining Art poured in. Stone fragments flew with the twist.
Jiang Chen kicked off, retreating in a backward lean — just in time to evade the stone fist's violent detonation!
The Three Mountain City cultivator had blown up his own fist as a second attack, but Jiang Chen's reflexes were too sharp; he dodged at the first instant.
The blast still touched him. Even with careful control, his whole right arm was a lattice of wounds, streaming blood.
But the man seemed to feel no pain. Wordless, he pursued Jiang Chen.
He made no more hand seals, cast no more arts. Or rather, he had realized that the arts he knew could not beat this opponent.
Then let him test the physique that had crossed a thousand mountains. Let him test the fists and feet that had slain tigers and lions.
Elbow strikes. Knee drives. Head butts!
Jiang Chen could not create distance either. His sword was gone; his swordplay was useless.
Punches. Kicks. Shoulder checks!
The two closed in, trading blows at close quarters!
In the space of a few feet — the most intense, the most direct, the most savage fight!
Among the spectators, quite a few mortal martial artists who knew their forms erupted in excitement!