The third round of the Grand Competition was the true dividing line. Of the hundreds of disciples who had started, only the top thirty-two remained. Each one was a dragon among men, a true genius of the inner sect. The battles became longer, more brutal, and far more revealing.
Li Yu's victory over Yao Ling had solidified his reputation as one of the competition's dark horses. His name was no longer mentioned with scorn, but with a grudging, fearful respect. He was the "Beast Taming Prodigy," the disciple with the mysterious and powerful demonic beasts.
That evening, in the quiet of their inn, the mood was somber. Lin Tao, having advanced to the third round, had been matched against a powerful Sixth Stage disciple and was defeated after a hard-fought battle. He was not disheartened, but his face was a mask of sober contemplation.
"His foundation was simply deeper than mine," Lin Tao said, nursing a cup of tea. "My techniques could control and redirect his attacks, but I could not break through his defenses. It was a valuable lesson. I know now what I must work on."
"You fought well," Li Yu said, his voice a quiet reassurance. "You forced a Sixth Stage expert to use his full power. There is no shame in that defeat."
He looked at his friends. Hu Jian had been eliminated. Lin Tao was now out. He was the only one of their small faction left in the competition. The weight of their collective hopes now rested on his shoulders.
The next day, he drew his lot for the third round. His opponent was a disciple named Tie Gang, from the Iron Fist Peak. Li Yu had heard of him. He was a cultivator who had eschewed elegant techniques and profound arts in favor of one thing: pure, unadulterated combat. He was a warrior, born and bred.
They met on the central platform, the largest and most prominent of the arenas. Tie Gang was a mountain of a man, his body a mass of corded muscle, his skin covered in a faint, metallic sheen from his body cultivation art. His martial spirit was a Rank 5 Adamantine Bear, a creature of pure, unyielding strength and ferocity. He stood, his arms crossed, his aura a palpable wave of raw, untamed battle lust. He was at the same Fifth Stage of Qi Condensation as Li Yu's public persona. This would be a battle of equals.
"Li Yu," Tie Gang's voice was a low, gravelly rumble. "I have seen your fights. You use tricks and beasts to win. I am not like your other opponents. I do not use fancy techniques. I only know how to break things."
The match began. Tie Gang did not wait. He roared, a sound that shook the very platform, and fused with his Adamantine Bear spirit. A thick, grey, metallic light enveloped his body, and his muscles seemed to swell, his presence becoming even more bestial and intimidating. He did not use a movement technique. He simply charged, his every step a thunderous boom, his path a straight, uncompromising line of destruction.
Li Yu's mind was momentarily thrown into chaos. There was nothing to really analyze here. There was no technique to counter. There was only pure, overwhelming force.
He instinctively used his «Rippling Shadow Step», his form a watery blur as he evaded the initial charge. But Tie Gang's instincts were those of a true predator. He did not try to follow Li Yu's complex movements. He simply changed direction in mid-charge, his movements clumsy but brutally effective, and brought his massive, stone-like fist crashing down where Li Yu was about to reappear.
Li Yu was forced to materialize his «Flowing Water, Still Shadow» shield to block. The fist struck the shield, and for the first time, his profound technique was found wanting. The shield did not disperse the energy; it shattered, the pure, brute force of the blow too great to be redirected. Li Yu was sent stumbling back, a jolt of pain shooting up his arm.
The battle that followed was a nightmare for Li Yu. He was completely, utterly suppressed. Tie Gang was not a fencer; he was a brawler. He fought with a wild, unpredictable rhythm, his fists and feet a constant, overwhelming storm. He had no discernible patterns, no elegant forms. He was a force of nature, a living embodiment of combat.
Li Yu was forced onto the defensive, his mind racing to calculate, to predict, to survive. He was dodging, blocking, and evading, but he could not find a single opening. Tie Gang's every move flowed into the next, a seamless, instinctual dance of violence. Li Yu realized, with a chilling certainty, that this was the true meaning of a warrior. It was not something that could be learned from a scroll or practiced in seclusion. It was an instinct, a talent for combat that was as innate as his own talent for cultivation.
He was a school boy facing a barbarian, and the barbarian was winning.
"You are fast, little fish," Tie Gang grunted, his fists a blur. "But you cannot dodge forever!"
He was right. Li Yu was being herded, his space on the platform shrinking with every passing second. He knew he could not win this on his own. His own combat genius was a flickering candle against this raging inferno. He had no plan, no grand strategy. He was simply reacting, his profound techniques the only thing keeping him from being crushed.
He saw an opening—or rather, he created one out of desperation. He deliberately allowed one of Tie Gang's sweeping kicks to get past his defenses. He took the blow on his shoulder, his «Tidal Aegis Art» and «Leviathan Bone» physique absorbing the worst of the impact, but he allowed himself to be sent flying, a pained cry escaping his lips.
He used the momentum to create distance, landing near the edge of the platform. In that single, crucial moment of separation, with no other options left, he played his only remaining card.
"Crimson! Lirael!" he commanded through his link, his voice tight with desperation.
Two portals opened at his side. Crimson, his Rank 4 Flood Dragon, appeared with a furious roar, its jade-green form a bulwark of power. And beside it, a slender, ten-foot-long serpent of midnight-blue scales materialized, its golden eyes burning with a cold, ancient light. Lirael, his Rank 5 Deep-Sea Naga, had made her public debut.
The crowd erupted. Two contracted beasts! And one of them was a Rank 5 Tyrant! The sheer shock of the revelation sent a wave of disbelief through the arena.
Tie Gang, who had been charging forward to deliver the final blow, skidded to a halt, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and a new, burning battle lust. "Two of them! Good! This is a real fight!"
The battle became a three-on-one war. Tie Gang was a monster, but he was not invincible. Crimson, with its tough hide and draconic venom, met his charge head-on, a clash of pure, physical might. Lirael, however, was a ghost. She moved with a silent, fluid grace, her slender form a shadow that weaved through the battle. She did not attack directly. She used her innate abilities, her control over the deep sea, to subtly alter the battlefield. A disorienting psychic pulse, like the sonar of a deep-sea predator, would momentarily disrupt his focus.
Li Yu, now freed from the direct assault, was forced into the role of a commander. He stood at the back, his hands a blur of motion as he supported his companions with ice blades and mist shrouds, his mind struggling to direct the chaotic flow of the battle. It was not a role he was comfortable with, but it was the only one left for him to play.
Tie Gang was a warrior, but he could not fight an army. He was powerful, but he was being attacked from three sides at once, his every move hampered, his every attack met with a wall of scales or a disorienting pulse. Finally, after a long, brutal struggle, Lirael saw her chance. As Crimson locked horns with the Adamantine Bear spirit, she struck. Her form was a blur of midnight blue as she shot forward, her silver horn glowing with a cold, piercing light. She did not aim to kill. She struck the side of Tie Gang's knee with a precise, debilitating blow.
The warrior's leg buckled, and he fell to one knee with a roar of pain and frustration. In that moment, he was defenseless.
Li Yu appeared before him, his palm glowing with the dark, heavy light of the «Deep-River Seal». He did not strike. He simply held it, a silent, final checkmate.
Tie Gang looked at the palm, then at the two powerful beasts, and then at the calm, composed young man before him. He let out a long, weary sigh, and the metallic light of his spirit faded.
"I yield," he grunted, the words tasting like ash in his mouth.
Li Yu had won. But the victory felt even more hollow than the last. He had thought he would be a great warrior, what child didn't have that dream. To fight against hundreds and win by yourself. He had been completely, utterly defeated in a one-on-one confrontation though. He had only won by relying on the superior power and number of his companions. He still won, he just had to start changing his mentality so that he would win in a different way then what he had originally dreamed of. Winning by over whelming your enemies with beasts is also cool in it's own way.
He walked off the platform, his mind a quiet, somber sea. He had advanced to the quarter-finals, but his own limitations had been laid bare for him to see.
He did not return to his friends. He found a quiet, empty spot in the stands and watched the final matches of the day. He watched as Su Ling, with her cold, precise, and utterly flawless control, defeated her opponent without taking a single step. He watched as another disciple, a master of the sword, moved with a grace and a killer instinct that was both beautiful and terrifying.
He was watching true warriors. And he knew, with a certainty that settled deep in his soul, that he was not one of them. He was a cultivator. He was a beast tamer, but he was not a fighter, at least not like the real geniuses.
The realization was not a crushing blow. It was a moment of profound, liberating clarity. He had been trying to walk a path that was not his own. He had been trying to become a warrior, when his true strength, his true dao, lay elsewhere.
He looked at the Beast Bag at his waist, and then at the storage ring on his finger. His path was not to become the sharpest sword. His path was to own the sharpest sword. And the strongest shield. And the deadliest poison. His strength lay not in his own hands, but in the overwhelming, absolute power of the assets he could command.
The Grand Competition was not over. But for Li Yu, its true purpose was now complete. He had found his weakness, and in doing so, he saw the path forward for himself.