"You can show me, can you?" Lin huffed, a grin stretching from ear to ear. "Well then, go on—show me. But know this: if you fail, there will be consequences."
Lin stepped back, clearing the space.
"Move along, move along," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Let's see the prodigy show us his skills."
"Haaa…"
Lian exhaled sharply and settled into position.
Dash!
He vanished.
For a brief instant, he disappeared from everyone's sight, then reappeared right beside Lin, his breath steady and his face stern.
Mouths fell open.
What was that? Lin thought, disbelief crashing through him. Did he fully master it in that short time? This kid… he's a prodigy.
"No… it can't be.
Someone must have taught him.
Yes—Bo Yung. That has to be it."
"Ahem." Lin straightened, forcing a laugh. "So Bo Yung taught it to you beforehand, huh? No wonder you had such confidence." He waved his hand dismissively. "Fine. I'll acknowledge it—you've mastered it thoroughly."
"Oh… yeah, he learned it before," the disciples murmured among themselves.
"That explains it."
"No wonder he was so confident."
"All of you," Lin barked, "hurry up and learn the technique. We'll be holding a sparring match afterwards."
He turned to Lian. "Since you've already mastered it, sit there and wait while your peers catch up."
Lian walked off to the side. As he approached, the disciples instinctively opened a wide space around him—no one dared sit too close.
Lin leaned slightly toward one of the disciples.
"Wang Fu," he whispered, his voice carried through the whisper-frequency technique, unheard by the others. "Make sure you master it properly. Teach that kid a lesson during the spar."
A cruel smile tugged at his lips.
"If you do well, I'll give you that pill you've been wanting."
"Is that true, Instructor Lin?" Wang Fu asked, a smile spreading across his face. "You'll really give me the Qi-Busting Pill? We can use other techniques too, right?"
"Yes," Lin replied calmly. "As long as the foundation is based on the Flash Step, you may use any additional techniques you wish."
"Mm…" Wang Fu grinned, eyes gleaming. "Then I agree, Instructor. I'll teach this ingrate a lesson for you."
An incense stick's worth of time passed in the blink of an eye, and soon all the disciples moved into position for the spar.
"Since we have a newcomer today," Lin announced, "who is willing to spar with him? Also, for these sparring matches, the winners of each match will receive five credits."
At those words, the disciples erupted with excitement. Hands shot into the air.
"Me!"
"Me!"
"Heh—these will be the easiest points I'll ever earn."
"Look at this fool, they really think that they can beat him, he is a disciple of the Dealighful swordsman, do they really think that this match will be easy?" One body, which was sleeping behind the crowd, murmured to himself.
Heaven's Gate Sect operates on a credit system. Disciples earn credits by completing missions or winning duels. These credits can be exchanged for resources within the sect—pills, weapons, techniques, and more. Because of this, every disciple strives to accumulate as many as possible, since enough credits can also get you promoted into an interim disciple with black robes.
"I'll go," Wang Fu declared, striding forward and shoving the other disciples aside.
"Tch—damn it," someone muttered. "Even Wang Fu wants to fight. Our chance is gone."
One by one, the others withdrew.
Wang Fu stopped in front of Lian, leaning in until they were only inches apart.
"Do you accept this duel?" he asked coldly.
"Of course."
Lian brushed past him, walking toward the far end of the arena.
"This is fine, right, Instructor Lin?" Lian asked, shooting him a sharp glance.
"Yes… Yes, it's fine," Lin replied after a brief pause. "You all decided this yourselves."
"Huu… you're about to feel a whole lot of pain," Lin thought to himself.
Though you're an outsider and I don't feel any particular way about you, Bo Lian…
Since the instructor is handing out rewards, I can't let them slip away.
Blame your bad luck.
Wang Fu steadied his breathing.
"And begi—"
Before Lin could even finish the word, Lian was gone.
Even his shadow failed to realise he had vanished.
A heartbeat later,
Lian appeared behind Wang Fu.
The edge of his hand struck cleanly at the base of Wang Fu's neck.
Thud.
Wang Fu collapsed face-first onto the stone platform.
"—n." Lin finished his sentence.
Silence.
…..
The movements had been so clean, so overwhelming, that the disciples' minds couldn't even process what they had just witnessed.
"What the f*ck was that? He was a blur… even my eyes lost track of him for a moment there," Lin thought, staring at Wang Fu's unmoving body.
"What—when did he get there…?" someone shouted.
The crowd erupted.
"Hahaha! He's stronger than I thought!" the half-asleep boy muttered. "But for Wang Fu to fall like that—without even getting a chance to fight. That's just pathetic, so much for the divine bloodline of his."
"Did Wang Fu lose…? No way that Lian was too damn fast. I didn't even see what happened, did you?"
Murmurs spread through the crowd as Lian walked casually back toward the far side of the arena, hands at his sides.
"Get back here!"
Wang Fu's voice cracked as he forced himself upright, his legs wobbling beneath him.
"So, you didn't faint after all, ha?" Lian turned, mildly surprised. "I thought that strike would've knocked you out. What a disappointment it would've been if you'd actually stayed down."
He made an exaggerated gagging sound. "Bluuaah."
"I'll make you eat shit, you cocky bastard!"
Wang Fu reached into his robes, pulled out a small vial, and swallowed its contents in one gulp.
Boom.
Thick, oppressive Qi exploded outward, pressing down on the arena floor.
"Let's do this… one more time," Wang Fu growled, veins bulging as power surged through him.
"Mmmphh."
Lian rolled his shoulders and slipped into a martial stance, calm and loose.
"Alright," he said lightly. "Let's do this."
"Hahaha, what a fool, he is really resorting to supplements, the meridian-scorching pill of all things," the half-sleeping boy spoke, getting to his feet finally.