51st of Season of Air, 59th year of the 32nd cycle

  Just as Sleek had shouted with too much emotion, it finally happened. Newt made a mistake. In his hurry, he pushed his right hand too deep into a tough handhold. He smeared it coated in oil, and since his stance was awkward, Newt lost his grip and plummeted

  Granite Crust enveloped him and he smashed into the reward nest back-first. He hardly felt the jolt, but looking at the outcropping gave him a spark of inspiration.

  At least I can grab another reward.

  Newt crashed onto the ledge of bone, rolled and looked up. The number of still unclaimed nests was huge, but the choice was easy. Newt ran off to the right, burning off the oil from his hands as he fireburst fifty feet, and started climbing again, aiming for the nearest available target.

  Since he had already fallen, the least he could do was claim another bonus.

  Two oil traps and three poison ones on this wall. Newt reminded himself of the dangers he had faced in the first two hundred vertical yards, while wondering whether winning the bonus multiple times per cliff was worth his time.

  He would lose the victor’s bonus, but the nests were worth more anyway. He would also stop pioneering new cliffs, meaning he would use less stamina even if he had to climb the bone wall multiple times.

  The only problem was losing sight of the lead group and potentially wasting time on empty nests. Was it worth it? How much would Newt’s abuse of the nests increase his team’s placement?

  They had no chance of entering the top ten, his teammates simply could not compete against the disciples of the top twenty teams. At best, he could promote them from the fifteenth place to the twelfth. That was about a ninety tournament point difference, completely irrelevant considering Explorer’s Gate was seventh overall with five thousand seven hundred and thirty-five collected over the three previous events.

  Newt reached the nest and won another one hundred and twenty yards for his team. He looked up, and saw the lead group close to the top. After a moment’s hesitation, Newt let go, allowing himself to drop.

  He summoned his defenses immediately, and quickly struck the ground, jumping off with hardly a pause before heading for the third nest. One more, then he would have to head for the next cliff, lest he loses sight of the lead group and risk picking up empty nests.

  ***

  “Is this cheating?” Northstar said, Sleek’s opinion of the woman sinking further.

  “The rules neither forbid it, nor did the venerable who created the challenge mention that the participants couldn’t collect multiple rewards from the same wall,” Sleek said. “In fact, she strictly warned the participants that someone could have already snatched their prize away from them.”

  Sleek completely ignored yet another group of losers dropping from a cliff, nobody wanted to hear about them. What would draw the viewers’ attention instead was the sudden change in Newstar’s strategy.

  The young man collected three rewards, denying them to the opposing teams, before heading for the next cliff. He sacrificed the first place bonus, but overall, Sleek thought he won more than he lost. He was not good with numbers, but Northstar shouting foul seemed a good indication of how profitable Newstar’s plan was.

  “I guess it’s a part of the challenge,” Northstar mussed aloud. “Newstar had to climb three hundred and fifty extra yards to win two hundred and forty, while also losing fifty yards from the first place bonus. But, considering that the reward is increasing with each cliff the participants climb, Newstar should have done this much later on. Not to mention he’s exhausting himself.”

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  Sleek was about to say Newstar obviously did not plan to fall the first time when unusual movement caught his attention. A group of ten disciples from four contender sects gathered on the eleventh ledge just as Newstar was running for the twelfth cliff. There were several thousand feet separating them, and the youth did not so much as glance in their general direction, but Sleek noticed the oddity right away.

  The group had gathered to block Dandelion’s path. The black-robed independent cultivator pulled himself over, and a blow landed on his back before he could right himself.

  Sleek watched a layer of shiny, metallic defenses cover the man’s body before he grabbed the attacker’s ankle and dropped him to the ground. He finished him off with an elbow to the throat, and the young man disappeared, but then blows started raining on Dandelion’s still prone form.

  The man fought like a cornered triceratops, twisting away from the blows with a supernatural awareness, but letting the weaker strikes land.

  Sleek snapped out of his daze.

  “Dandelion’s in trouble. He’s already eliminated—Ouch, that was a nasty kick, he smashed Whitebloom’s knee—” The action happened too fast, by the time Sleek said the words, Dandelion had sent an icicle into another man’s neck making him disappear.

  The brawl rapidly dwindled in intensity as Dandelion eliminated five opponents, but Sleek lacked the ability to judge what was happening.

  “Heavens!” Northstar did not. “He is eliminating them from weakest to strongest. What uncanny battle sense! Even ambushed and surrounded, he can gauge his enemies at a glance and whittle their numbers in the most efficient way possible.”

  The combatants exchanged twenty blows while she spoke, and Sleek wanted to say something, to comment on the battle, even if actions happened many times faster than his words could do them justice. He grit his teeth and gave it a try.

  “A bar of flaming metal appeared in Dandelion’s hand! I’ve never seen a technique like this!” The burning metal, smashed a woman across the face. Her defensive technique held, the layer of stone resisting the physical damage, but the soft metal bent, wrapping itself around her head, its heat burning her face and eyes.

  She endured a moment before her screams filled the air.

  “Aaand, the Barren Plain’s Dune Fangblade is out,” Sleek said a split second before the woman disappeared.

  “Never mind that.” Northstar gaped at the screen. “Did you see how long the manifested technique lasted after the contact ended? Both the solidity of the metal he created, the duration, and the energy it contained, all of them matched someone at the peak of the fourth realm, not third.”

  ***

  Verdant Blueshine was panting. The monster they challenged could not be allowed to reach a high place. He had thirty-five hundred points fighting alone, which placed him firmly in the eleventh spot, pushing all the challenger sects a rank lower. Two ranks, if one took into account Explorer’s Gate, but another team was going to settle that problem, assuming they managed to catch up with Newstar Blazing Salamander.

  But that was someone else’s problem. Verdant had his hands full with Dandelion. The man fought alone, one against ten of possibly not the best talents their sects had to offer, but certainly high above the average contestant. And he was pummeling them.

  Dune disappeared with a scream, a hunk of searing metal wrapped around her head, the heat so intense, Verdant had to step away. He was glad she was gone. Dune was competition, her disappearance weakened her sect, but it also weakened their team.

  With four against one, Verdant did not like their odds, but once you mounted an ankylosaurus, you rode it all the way or it bashed your brains. A horrible metaphor, Verdant always wondered who would ride the spiky dinosaur, and he struggled to let the others get speared in his stead.

  Dandelion was up, and he held his ground, his eyes locked on his attackers, not once checking for weaknesses he could exploit to escape.

  The man lunged, seizing the initiative. An advantage a lone, surrounded fighter had against a group. The disadvantage was the woman from the Myriad Glades, who jumped for his back as soon as Dandelion committed to his attack.

  The man spun midair, meeting her surprised face with a solid fist, which glittered as if made of bronze. Myriad Glades’ disciple unleashed a surge of flames, but the fist passed right through them and slammed into her nose.

  The crack made Verdant shudder, and he jumped forward even as she disappeared. The other two attacked at the same time, making use of their opportunity. Earthen glow covered Verdant’s arms, converting them into obsidian blades.

  Dandelion spun, his fist luckily making someone else disappear, and Verdant stabbed.

  His obsidian blade technique was designed to pierce defenses, and while a portion of them dissolved, they split the metallic layer coating Dandelion’s skin.

  Verdant expected the man would twist in pain, but he did not even twitch before he disappeared. Verdant looked at his temporary ally, and she looked at him, and they laughed. Not because they had accomplished a grand deed, but because they survived while eight others fell.

  “Good luck, I guess,” she said, and moved over to climb the cliff not waiting for Verdant’s reply.

  “Good luck,” he shouted and headed for the wall himself.

  He grabbed the handhold and started suffocating as soon as he pulled himself up.