On the stage, Chen Sanshi exhaled a long breath of turbid air.
At this point, there was no choice left—this man had to die.
Even if he didn't kill him, even if he only defeated him, the man would come seeking revenge again and again. With someone like this, trouble would never end. Sooner or later, he might even come after his family. Was he supposed to just keep backing down forever?
If death was inevitable, then better to kill him here—on the stage, in plain sight, where it was sanctioned and beyond dispute.
To kill him openly, under the rules, was far safer.
At least that way, his father—though a Martial Saint—wouldn't dare seek open revenge. That alone was enough.
With things already this chaotic, why bother worrying about offending anyone?
The fourth-round duels soon ended.
Before he knew it, Chen Sanshi had made it all the way to the final round.
There were still two hours before the last match began.
He found a quiet corner, sat cross-legged, and closed his eyes to rest.
[Technique: Unified Spear Technique (Minor Achievement)]
[Progress: 329/2000]
His training over the past few days, along with today's battles, had sharply raised his proficiency. Yet he was still a long way from reaching tempering organs – Major Achievement.
Not long after he finished his match, the other semifinal also came to an end.
Since Lu Shuhua had been injured earlier, Crown Prince's heir Cao Fan won easily without much effort.
"He killed Wen Qiushi?"
When Cao Fan heard the news, his anger burst forth uncontrollably. "That bastard killed one of my men! It seems he truly doesn't take me seriously. Just because he's received two imperial decrees, he really thinks himself a great court official? He's nothing more than a mere Third-Rank officer!"
"Your Highness," Yin Hanwen fumed, "he's far too arrogant! We can kill, but he cannot? Why does he have the right to kill one of ours?"
He clenched his fists, seething. "You didn't see it, Your Highness—he wanted enough time to kill Wen Qiushi, so he first stabbed out his mouth to stop him from shouting surrender! Your Highness, if he dared to kill Wen Qiushi today, he'll dare to kill me tomorrow! And after that… he might even rebel!
"Your Highness, a man like that cannot be left alive! In time, he'll be a grave threat to our Great Sheng Dynasty!
"Damn it! If not for that arrow wound I took on the mountain, I could've beaten him myself. Even if I couldn't kill him, victory would've been mine!"
Yin Hanwen's strength was at tempering organs – Perfection, just a step away from Transforming Strength.
That arrow had struck him only because he'd been hiding behind a tree, completely off guard.
"You're saying he killed Wen Qiushi in less than five exchanges?"
Cao Fan calmed down, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Tell me in detail—what kind of spear technique does he use?"
"I can't recognize it," Yin Hanwen admitted after a pause. "It's not one used in the Great Sheng military."
He frowned in frustration. "Your Highness, do you really need to worry about that? With your cultivation, you can crush him effortlessly no matter what. Why bother studying his moves?"
"The arena is no different from the battlefield," Cao Fan replied sternly. "You never underestimate your enemy."
He was a royal by birth—naturally proud, looking down on others by instinct—but that arrogance didn't make him careless. The two were not the same.
He said in a low, steady tone, "For him to make it this far, luck alone isn't enough. His spear technique must be extraordinary.
"Though I hold the higher cultivation, it's best to know one's opponent thoroughly. Only then can one avoid stumbling into a trap."
"Your Highness truly has the makings of an emperor!" Yin Hanwen said, full of admiration. "But I really can't describe his technique clearly."
"Hmm."
Cao Fan didn't blame him. His gaze shifted toward the city wall, where Pei Tiannan stood, and he murmured to himself, "If only Inspector Pei could analyze his moves for me."
A Martial Saint could easily see through lower-level techniques. No matter how refined the opponent's cultivation method was, a Martial Saint could discern its structure—enough to predict its flow, spot weaknesses, and control the fight with ease.
Unfortunately, Cao Fan didn't dare ask. He feared that seeking such advice might leave a poor impression on Sun Xiangzong. Until he obtained the method to break through beyond the Martial Saint realm, he needed to remain cautious and respectful.
"Forget it."
Cao Fan gripped the Azure Dragon Crescent Blade. "I'll just be more careful. In the end, I still have the advantage of realm suppression. Victory is assured."
He was about to take a short rest when a soldier approached quietly, speaking in a near whisper. "Your Highness, the General requests your presence. He says…"
"Oh?"
Cao Fan's eyes lit up, and he followed the soldier immediately.
…
"Truly unexpected."
"At first, I thought the final match would be between the Crown Prince's heir and Lu Shuhua."
"It's already over," Pei Tiannan said in a low voice. "Even if Lord Chen is invincible among his peers, he can't possibly match the Heir. The gap between tempering organs – Minor Achievement and Perfection is like that between tempering blood and tempering bone. Whether this last fight happens or not makes no difference. Especially with the bone examination afterward."
"Still, no harm in watching."
Eunuch Hou smiled faintly.
"I believe that crossing realms to win," Sun Xiangzong said suddenly, "should count as two first-class merits. What do you two think?"
"It should indeed," Pei Tiannan replied readily. "If Lord Chen truly defeats the Heir, awarding him two first-class merits would be more than fair."
"Agreed," Eunuch Hou nodded. "But if that's the case, after the bone test, wouldn't both of them have six first-class merits each? Then who would be the champion? There's only supposed to be one, isn't there?"
"Then we'll take two," Sun Xiangzong said calmly.
"Two?" Pei Tiannan frowned slightly. "Grand Commander, that might be… improper. The champion title exists mainly for resource distribution. Every champion of the Elite Selection receives rare spiritual treasures and precious medicines.
"Those medicines are hundreds—sometimes thousands—of years old. Each one picked is one fewer left in existence. Even the imperial court has trouble supplying enough. How could we afford two sets?"
The champion of the Elite Selection was indeed chosen as the Grand Commander's personal disciple, but he was also someone the imperial court invested heavily in—a future Martial Saint at least, or a Grand General of the Profound Manifestation realm.
That was why there existed one unspoken rule…
After the Elite Selection, even inner-sect disciples had a chance to continue competing with the champion for merit—through military achievements, cultivation, and other aspects.
The logic was simple.
This was the imperial army, not some martial sect.
In martial sects, as long as the sect master favored a disciple and could keep the elders quiet, he could shower that disciple with endless resources. Even if the disciple later proved useless, it didn't matter.
But the army was different—it existed to fight wars.
Anyone who received resources had to produce matching results.
If one took the finest resources yet contributed nothing on the battlefield, that person could be replaced—his position and training passed on to a more capable inner-sect disciple.
This rule served as both a warning and motivation to all disciples—whether personal or inner-sect. No one could simply live off past merits.
There had been precedents.
Tang Ruoshan, for example, had once been an inner-sect disciple. The previous top personal disciple had been arrogant and reckless, and after leading a disastrous defeat, Tang Ruoshan took his place.
Moreover, the Elite Selection only judged martial strength, not a man's character. In the end, a disciple's conduct could determine whether he was truly granted the Grand Commander's inheritance.
There had once been an Elite Selection champion who, within a year of joining the army, began assaulting common women. Naturally, his position was stripped and replaced by another.
No matter how it was viewed, resources were limited—there could only ever be one true successor.
"I'm old," said Sun Xiangzong blandly. "This is my last time taking disciples. What harm is there in accepting one more?"
He added lightly, "Besides, it's not as if the Cao family lacks medicine or resources."
"So the Grand Commander really has taken a liking to this Chen fellow," Pei Tiannan remarked with a faint smile.
As a Martial Saint himself, he had long noticed that Chen Sanshi's spear technique wasn't one of the three standard military forms—nor anything found among the sects. It was something completely new.
How many people in the world could create their own martial arts? And among them, how many used the spear?
That alone revealed everything.
He didn't argue further, merely said with a smile, "Then let it be as the Grand Commander says. Reasonable. Entirely reasonable."
"Reasonable indeed," Eunuch Hou echoed, nodding. "If someone can win against a higher realm opponent yet gets the same credit as one who wins at the same level—that'd hardly be fair."
Though they said this with easy smiles, both of them looked relaxed, even amused.
After all, even with the Grand Commander's favor, it wouldn't change the reality.
A Nine-Dragon Body at tempering organs – Minor Achievement facing a Dragon Heart and Tiger Bones cultivator at tempering organs – Perfection—it was an impossible gap.
Even Sun Xiangzong couldn't bend the rules that far.
As the final duel approached, the entire martial arena gradually fell silent.
Everyone's attention turned to the stage—this was the fight they'd all been waiting for.
Even the commanding generals who had time came to watch.
After all, whoever won would soon become their junior brother.
In name, all disciples under the Grand Commander—whether inner-sect, outer-sect, or personal—could address each other as senior and junior brothers. But in practice, only personal disciples were ranked formally.
Sun Buqi paced nervously, palms sweating. "Can he win?"
"Doubtful," said Meng Guangxin bluntly. "Cao Fan may act proud, but he's always trained hard and never underestimates his opponent. That junior named Chen doesn't have much chance."
"What are we supposed to do then?"
Sun Buqi's voice was anxious. "Are we really gonna let Cao Fan become my father's disciple?"
He might usually act lazy, but he wasn't stupid.
The grudge between the Sun and Cao families—how could he not know?
But the rules of the Elite Selection were absolute: the one who claimed the championship earned the right to inherit the Grand Commander's teachings.
And this time, the Cao family clearly meant to devour every last piece of the Sun family's legacy.
"Seventh Senior Brother!"
Sun Buqi hurried over to a pale, lean man in tight military garb—features delicate enough to resemble both man and woman. "Can't you think of something?"
Seventh Senior Brother Ye Fengxiu sat cross-legged with his eyes closed, saying nothing.
"Second Senior Brother!"
The second disciple, heavyset and cheerful-faced like a restaurant owner, sighed. "I hate the Cao family too, but what can we do? The realm gap's there—we can't change that."
"Ninth Sister!"
Ninth Senior Sister Rong Yanqiu—the only woman among Sun Xiangzong's disciples aside from his own daughter Sun Li, and a rare female general in the Great Sheng Dynasty—twirled a plum blossom between her fingers.
Though she was around thirty, she wore bright rouge and silk, her presence more like that of a courtesan than a soldier.
She smiled lazily. "That little junior sure is handsome. I like him too. But I can't help him. What am I supposed to do—get on stage and cheat for him?
"Why don't you go find Eldest Senior Brother? He knows the most. Maybe he's got some idea to counter Cao Fan's blade technique."
"Eldest Senior Brother…"
Sun Buqi glanced around, but the towering, mountain-like figure of Lü Ji was nowhere to be seen. "Forget it. He wouldn't help anyway."
"I'll go!"
It was Fifth Senior Brother Meng Guangxin who finally stood up, grumbling as he cracked his knuckles. "I can't stomach calling anyone from the Cao clan 'Senior Brother.' Just thinking about it makes me sick. Sick!"
Rong Yanqiu chuckled. "Don't go messing things up, you foul-mouthed monk!"
This was the final match of the Elite Selection.
All of them, having just returned to Liangzhou, had gathered here specially to watch it unfold.