Chapter 215 | Cruelty Within the Rules

Chapter 215: 215 | Cruelty Within the Rules

In the eastern viewing pavilion draped in crimson cloud banners, Elder Liu and Elder Bai took their seats at the front balustrade, while Instructor Qing departed down the referee walkway to take her place on the joint supervision bench between Stage One and Stage Two.

Directly across the arena Pit, in the pavilion hung with black-and-red sun flags, Elder Mo sat with a cold, sunken smile on his face. Behind his chair stood Mo Yan, the faint red swelling on his left cheek covered by medicinal powder, his hateful eyes locked straight across the pit onto Lin Tian.

BANG—!

A massive bronze war-bell tolled three times from the central magistrate tower, cutting off the noise of the stands.

The opening ceremony was brief. After the Sky-Pillar City Lord activated the four stage barriers, the glowing brackets rose into the air above the arena floor, and the first round of the Regional Tournament officially began.

The early matches moved quickly.

On Stage One, Gao Chen fought in the second bout against a Late Stage disciple from the Wind-Ridge Sect. Fighting with calm, orthodox swordsmanship, Gao Chen broke his opponent’s guard in twelve exchanges and sent him sliding cleanly across the boundary line to secure Crimson Nimbus Sect’s first victory.

In the pavilion, Fang Yu and Chen Hao cheered, the heavy tension from the morning briefing lifting slightly.

Only Lin Tian, leaning calmly against the stone pillar at the side of the crimson balustrade, kept his eyes on Stage Two below.

"Stage Two, Match Four!" the stage magistrate’s voice boomed across the arena through a sound-amplifying array. "Zhou Kai of the Crimson Nimbus Sect, versus Zhao Lie of the Black-Sun Sect!"

Up in the Black-Sun pavilion, Mo Yan leaned over the rail with a cruel grin.

Down by the steps of Stage Two, Zhou Kai took a deep breath, adjusted his grip on his longsword, and leaped onto the granite platform.

From the opposite staircase walked Zhao Lie.

He was shorter than Mo Yan, built like a thick iron stump, with scarred forearms and a wide, butcher-style heavy saber resting casually on his shoulder. As he stepped into the ring, he didn’t even look at Zhou Kai—instead, he glanced up toward the Crimson Nimbus pavilion and ran a thumb slowly across his own throat.

"Remember Elder Liu’s words," Gao Chen called down from the lower walkway. "Watch his heavy saber’s downward arc!"

Zhou Kai nodded grimly and drew his longsword.

"Begin!" the stage referee dropped his hand.

CLANG!

Zhou Kai moved first, using his superior agility to circle left, sending three rapid beams of crimson sword Qi toward Zhao Lie’s ribs.

Zhao Lie did not dodge.

With a savage grin, he erupted with the full pressure of Peak Level 9 Foundation Establishment. Dark-red flame wrapped around his thick butcher saber as he swung it in a brutal, one-handed horizontal cleave that smashed all three sword beams into sparks.

Before the smoke cleared, Zhao Lie stomped the granite floor and charged straight into Zhou Kai’s guard!

CLANG! CLANG! CRACK!

Sparks rained across Stage Two. Every time the heavy butcher saber crashed against Zhou Kai’s longsword, the sheer difference in realm and physical weight forced Zhou Kai back three steps, his boots skidding across the stone and the webbing between his thumb and forefinger splitting open with blood.

By the seventh exchange, Zhou Kai’s arms were trembling violently, and his protective Qi had dropped below half.

He’s too heavy—I can’t break his guard!

Remembering Elder Liu’s strict warning from that morning, Zhou Kai gritted his teeth, swallowed his pride, and used the recoil of the eighth clash to leap backward toward the white boundary line at the edge of the stage.

With three paces still left before the line, he saw Zhao Lie’s saber flaring with a terrifying dark-red glow for a finishing charge.

Knowing he wouldn’t reach the edge in time, Zhou Kai drew in a sharp breath to surrender.

"I con—!"

The moment the first word left Zhou Kai’s lips, Zhao Lie’s eyes flashed with vicious mockery. He had been waiting for that exact breath since the match began!

BOOM!

Flame exploded beneath Zhao Lie’s boots—an explosive burst technique he had deliberately hidden during the first eight exchanges. Crossing fifteen feet in less than half a heartbeat, Zhao Lie abandoned his saber swing and drove the heel of his heavy iron-shod boot straight into the side of Zhou Kai’s open jaw!

KCHHHK!

A sickening sound of shattering teeth and fracturing bone echoed across Stage Two.

The word "concede" died instantly in a spray of bright red blood.

The force of the kick spun Zhou Kai sideways and slammed him flat onto his back three feet inside the boundary line, his head ringing so violently that his eyes rolled back in dazed agony.

"Stop! The match is—" Instructor Qing rose halfway from the joint supervision bench beside the stage, her hand slamming down on the stone rail as she shouted toward the ring.

Yet referee standing on the platform hesitated for a single, fatal breath—because Zhou Kai remained inside the line and had not finished speaking the words of surrender!

That single breath was all Zhao Lie needed.

Standing directly over the fallen, groaning Zhou Kai, Zhao Lie’s lips curled into a wide, sadistic grin.

Instead of kicking Zhou Kai across the boundary line to end the bout, Zhao Lie raised his right foot high into the air, poured his scorching Peak Foundation Qi into his iron heel, and stomped straight down onto Zhou Kai’s exposed right kneecap!

CRAAACK—!

The sound of the knee joint shattering completely against the granite slab was loud enough to make cultivators in the front rows wince.

"AAAAAGGGHHH—!"

A blood-curdling scream tore through Zhou Kai’s broken jaw as his right leg bent at a grotesque, unnatural angle against the stone.

Only then did Zhao Lie lazily slide the toe of his boot under Zhou Kai’s ribs and kick his limp, twitching body off the edge of Stage Two, sending him crashing down onto the stone walkway below.

"Enough!"

Instructor Qing blurred down from the supervision bench, catching Zhou Kai before his head could strike the lower steps, while two Crimson Nimbus alchemists rushed forward with pills.

On Stage Two, the referee finally raised his flag with an awkward, stiff expression.

"Zhou Kai failed to complete a verbal concession prior to leaving the ring. Winner of Match Four—Zhao Lie of the Black-Sun Sect!"

Up in the Crimson Nimbus viewing pavilion, Fang Yu and Chen Hao shot to their feet, their faces livid with rage.

"That bastard did it on purpose! Senior Brother Zhou was already shouting his surrender!"

"He broke his jaw first just to stop the words, then crushed his knee while he was already down!"

Even Elder Liu’s slender fingers tightened on the stone balustrade until the granite beneath her palm spiderwebbed with fine cracks, a cold, murderous emerald fire flickering deep in her eyes. Beside her, Elder Bai’s expression turned as frigid as midwinter ice.

Down in the center of Stage Two, Zhao Lie did not say a single word.

Resting his heavy butcher saber back onto his shoulder, he slowly dragged the sole of his iron boot across the white granite floor, wiping a smear of Zhou Kai’s blood onto the stone.

Then he turned around and looked directly up at the Crimson Nimbus pavilion.

With thousand spectators watching in tense silence, Zhao Lie spread both of his arms wide, gave an exaggerated, mocking shrug of his shoulders, and tilted his head to the side with a sneering smirk—as if asking the entire Crimson Nimbus Sect what they could possibly do about a crippling blow delivered cleanly inside the rules.

Up in the Black-Sun pavilion, Mo Yan threw his head back and laughed out loud, raising two fingers to point from his own eyes toward the bloody streak on Stage Two, and then straight across the pit at Lin Tian.

The message could not have been clearer: That is the price of your slap yesterday.

In the Crimson Nimbus pavilion, the angry shouting of the disciples suddenly quieted as a shadow shifted beside the stone pillar.

Lin Tian slowly pushed himself off the pillar and stood upright.

There was no wild outburst of anger on his face. He simply looked down where Zhou Kai lay clutching his shattered leg, and then raised his calm, golden eyes toward Stage Two and the laughing Black-Sun pavilion beyond.

"Elder Liu," Lin Tian said, his low voice quiet, level, and colder than the ironstone beneath their feet. "If an opponent can’t open his mouth to concede before leaving the ring... any injury short of death is considered an accident of combat, correct?"

Elder Liu turned her head and looked at him, the murderous chill in her eyes giving way to a dark, fierce understanding.

"Correct," Elder Liu replied calmly. "So long as they are still breathing when they hit the floor outside the ring, the magistrates cannot say a single word."

Lin Tian gave a slow nod and rested one hand lightly on the strap of the wrapped broadsword across his shoulder.

"Good to know," he said.