45th of Season of Air, 59th year of the 32nd cycle

  Newt was not tall by any means, but he never considered himself short either. That changed when the black giant stepped forth to meet him. The man loomed, easily seven feet tall, maybe more, and Newt did not doubt for a moment that the one facing him was a man. He did not believe a woman could have shoulders as broad, arms as thick, or chest as packed with muscles.

  He clenched his glaive tight, his eyes lingering on a maul, which the giant held like a hammer. When the secret realm’s master gave the mark, Newt circulated his spiritual energy, employing several techniques at once, following the existing traces throughout his body.

  Granite Crust closed over him even as Magmin Scales shimmered across his skin. A bolt of fire flew at the giant’s face, a spike of earth springing from the ground behind him, stabbing at his back.

  An arm-thick stream of lightning surged past Newt’s flames and slammed into his chest. Magmin Scales devoured the heat, and Granite Crust absorbed most of the impact, yet the blow staggered him a step back. Had Newt’s body been at the fourth realm, the technique would have knocked him down.

  As the giant smashed the fiery orb in an explosion of heat, the earthen spike stabbed into his lower back. The man reeled, and Newt pounced, piercing his chest with his emerald glaive.

  The black giant disappeared, leaving behind Newt, whose heart was bashing against his ribs.

  While the earthen shield stopped most of the lightning’s force while Newt’s fiery defenses burned away the heat before it reached him, there was no denying the power of the attack, any of his fellow disciples would have been obliterated by the lightning’s raw force.

  All was quiet. Ever since the event had started, there was no sound from the opponents, even though Newt knew Dandelion had said a bunch of things when he saw him. The moment’s lull stretched, laden with shock and realization.

  Finally, the second black shade, this one more normally sized, left the silent rainbow of phantoms and approached Newt. Newt glanced at who was left — a dark red, two regular reds, and the rest were red bordering orange or orange bordering red. Based on the numbers alone, Newt knew he faced one of the grand sects, and without him, the black giant would have pulverized his group with no need for reinforcements.

  Newt observed his new opponent; their weapon was a spiked chain, at least twenty feet long. The black figure was lean, a head shorter than the giant Newt faced first, but still tall, their gait grim and determined.

  Newt considered how he should fight. Relying on physical might against the giant seemed foolhardy, so he relied on techniques, but it came with an energy cost. His new opponent should expect Newt to wield double elements to attack him, which suited New just fine, he could use that knowledge to make his victory cheaper.

  “Fight,” the female voice said, and spiritual energy flooded Newt’s body. While his defenses formed, protecting his ears first, he unleashed an evolved Flashfire and charged. The blast stunned Newt’s opponent, and the spear skewered his heart before he disappeared without making a move.

  Newt struck the butt end of his spear into the arena’s sandy floor and turned towards the remaining opponents. He could only hope his pose and black figure were menacing enough to send a wave of fear.

  ***

  “Did you see that, ladies and gentlemen! Who would have thought a lone disciple of a force such as Explorer’s Gate could defeat the entire team of a grand sect?”

  “Well, Hardy, Explorer’s Gate did get an imperial commendation just last year. It is certain they have invested their rewards into disciples who proved themselves worthy during their tribulation.”

  Woodhopper listened to random low-realm entertainers slandering her sect. Right then, she wanted nothing more than for the two to appear next to her, so she could smash the expensive ceramic teapot against their heads.

  “Control yourself, child, the teapot is innocent.” Woodhopper jerked, wondering how Sect Master Greenthorn could read her thoughts, then realized she was clutching the teapot.

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  “I know you would like to bash their heads, but what you are hearing are empty words spoken by those with empty heads. They know not of your loss, of all our loss. They live half a world away, in a city free of troubles. And yet, ages ago, when the imperials forced this city’s powerhouses and their allies to commit suicide, our ancestors knew nothing and cared little about random deaths half a world away.”

  The sect master took a sip of tea and his lip twitched in mild disgust.

  “Is the tea not to your liking, Sect Master?” Woodhopper found it an excellent brew. Overpriced for certain, but palatable and refreshing.

  “A soulless creation, but the leaves are fine, I will buy some before we leave this establishment. Tell me, what do you think of Newstar?”

  “I think he will reach the end. Six of the grand sects are still in play on the higher floors, and the next round will be a carnage amongst them. How long do you think Dandelion can hold out.”

  “I’m hoping he will hold out until the end.” Sect Master smiled. “I bet good money on him winning this stage.”

  Woodhopper gaped at her leader with wide-open eyes.

  “I made four bets. That we would win, that we would place second, that Dandelion would win, and that Dandelion would place second. If one of these comes true, in the worst-case scenario, I’m getting six times my investment back.” His smile grew wider. “You know what beast tamers say, never place all your eggs in one basket.”

  ***

  After eliminating ten opponents, Newt would not call himself tired, but he had expended about a fifth of his spiritual energy. The rules forbade pausing to rest and meditate, since managing spiritual energy was also a part of the trial.

  For the first time in a long while, Newt’s unique first realm and the side vents dotting his third brought a tangible benefit. Unlike all other participants, he could recover spiritual energy while walking. The only exception to the rule was Dandelion.

  He only has to fight two opponents each time to pass, while I just fought five of his rounds’ worth of enemies. Newt considered the thought and found it unfair. Three rounds.

  Five forks later, they entered another combat-chamber. Inside awaited three combatants, a red and two orange-reds.

  A trivial round for Newt, but the rules forced him to sit it out.

  Flare stepped forward, and Newt considered how good it would be for her to drag out the battles as long as possible.

  The best result of this battle would be for Flare to eliminate the first two and then for the remaining one to eliminate everyone from my team. That way, I could always fight, and I would only need two victories to win.

  Newt suddenly realized that those fighting alone were having an easier time than him. He was almost certain of it, when he realized those fighting alone could not recover energy while walking or fighting. Even the strongest combatant had to expend a bit of energy for each victory and sooner or later they would tire out.

  While Newt considered the fairness of the event format, Flare defeated her first opponent. By the time she defeated the third, her already half-spent reserve of spiritual energy was empty and she was essentially a non-combatant.

  The next intersection had only two forks, both leading up, the remaining paths closed to the Explorer’s Gate group.

  Newt picked left, and after a hundred feet they entered another battle room. The opponents had seven members, a black, three deep reds, and three yellowish-orange.

  Newt stepped forth, but surprisingly a red came at him first. The battle started, and the person charged Newt. The attack was void of techniques, and they disappeared after Newt impaled them with his glaive.

  Then came the three yellowish-orange disciples, none of which worth spending a speck of spiritual energy. Finally, after Newt dispatched the four surprisingly weak disciples, the black silhouette approached.

  Newt considered his enemy’s strategy. They did not send the previous four to tire him out; that or they underestimated him severely. No, he concluded, they had gotten rid of the burden. Disciples too weak to contribute, with their spiritual energy mostly spent.

  The matron signaled the start of the fight, but neither of the opponents moved. Newt examined the sword-wielder, and the sword-wielder awaited him to make the first move. The sword was a single-handed blade, with a grip large enough for the wielder to fight two handed. The blade was slim, long, and deadly.

  Newt took a step forward, and his opponent twisted their legs against the grains of sand on the floor, seeking better purchase.

  Not an earth cultivator, Newt concluded immediately, frustrated because the Sage’s Realm blocked his third eye and rendered it mostly useless. How much spiritual energy do they have remaining?

  If the enemy was full, Newt would have to press for a quick battle, to conserve his own energy instead of competing in the amount they each had in their reserves. If the enemy was empty, or near empty, it was in his interest to drag out the battle.

  They are down here, meaning they lost, and I doubt they conserved their energy all that much with the prospect of losing. Newt poked at the enemy from outside their reach, two steps too far to land a blow. The move was not meant to challenge civilized people, but goad an animal. I’ll let you advance and take the risks.