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

  Newt followed the corridor alone. It was a gentle slope, ever rising upwards. His heart raced, unbidden thoughts assailing him. Could it be that the previous team were mere semifinalists? Was he really heading for the twelfth match? He counted on his fingers.

  Eleven done. Twelfth waiting ahead. And he had less than thirty percent of his energy, Newt hoped the tunnel would stretch out for miles, so he could recover spiritual energy. It did not. Mere three hundred yards after he had entered it, the tunnel ended in a large, circular chamber.

  A black silhouette awaited, armed with a thick black staff.

  Someone defeated Big Brother? Newt’s mind blanked. He had bet seventeen fourth realm spirit gems on himself and seventeen on Dandelion. Thirty-four thousand third realm spirit gems wasted.

  Those spirit gems were enough to carry him three to four layers into the fourth realm. Possibly more, depending on which resources he would need to purchase.

  Dandelion’s black outline stood before Newt, and the venerable who had created the realm signaled the start of the battle, but the two just stared at each other.

  We’re both recovering our spiritual energy even as we wait. The amount was insignificant, but it added up.

  Dandelion would not have stood still if he had spiritual energy to spare. Assuming he had lost the finals, he must have been exhausted, and every moment Newt gave him was a step towards another loss. Dandelion was a dangerous opponent, and giving him leeway meant losing.

  The chain of thoughts clattered through Newt’s mind and led to a single conclusion — Attack. Newt lunged.

  The staff struck the shaft of Newt’s glaive, nearly casting the weapon out of his hands.

  Newt followed his glaive, dodging Dandelion’s blow and sending a wave of flame at his big brother’s torso.

  Dandelion dropped to the ground, twirling his black staff above himself, dodging the fire. Seeing an opening, Newt sent another wave of fire, but Dandelion rolled out of the way even as the technique left Newt’s hand. He unleashed three more, his reserve dropping to a fifth of his full capacity, and Dandelion dodged all of them, but each time Newt got closer and closer.

  Dandelion reached the edge of the arena, striking the invisible shield, and Newt sent another wave of flame. The wave struck true, but Dandelion got up and charged through it.

  He has spiritual energy left!

  In panic, Newt sent another wave, Dandelion dodged, then jumped back out of the way of the next one, giving up the advantage Newt’s surprise bought him.

  He is spent!

  Newt regained his senses. He dropped his spear, fighting his best teacher with the weapon he had taught him was suicidal, so, Newt relied on fists and techniques Elder Flameax taught him. Up close, Dandelion had no time to dodge.

  Dandelion’s staff swung for his head, and Newt ducked, sending a flaming fist straight at his big brother’s belly. Fire exploded against his torso, and Dandelion staggered.

  The staff smashed into Newt’s shoulder, but he unleashed two more waves, then a third and a forth, struggling forward, his shoulder broken.

  Then the pain disappeared, and Newt was once more in daylight, a tenth of his spiritual energy remaining.

  “The winner of the first round for third-realmers!” A voice boomed, and Newt realized people stood all around him. “Explorer’s Gate! Second place independent cultivator Dandelion, third place Sword Abode…”

  The speaker kept shouting names and placements, but Newt found himself up in the air, his four teammates lifting him up and cheering, completely forgetting the haughty demeanor of revered heroes Elder Woodhopper insisted upon when they had first arrived at the city.

  Dandelion stood next to them, laughing. Whether it was at the sight or with delight at his and his little brother’s placement, Newt could not tell.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  ***

  “What a scammer.” Sect Master smiled while the teahouse was in an uproar, people shouting, cheering and cursing in equal measure.

  “Sect Master?” Woodhopper said, and Sect Master Greenthorn spoke directly into their mind.

  “Dandelion allowed himself to lose.” Greenthorn sensed Woodhopper’s confusion. “He had almost no spiritual energy, it’s logical he would lose against whomever was his final opponent. Is that what you’re thinking?”

  Woodhopper inclined her head imperceptibly.

  “He could’ve ended Newstar as soon as the battle started, pushing the mental advantage he had from the previous duel. Instead, he waited. But even if we disregard that particular situation, he intentionally exhausted his spiritual energy in his two previous matches, leaving himself dry. With his skill with the staff, he could have defeated the two swordmasters in a handful of blows, but he exhausted all their energy and all his energy. I think he’s prescient. He arranged it so that Newstar would fight exhausted opponents while at the same time giving himself an excuse for losing the finals.”

  Woodhopper considered the sect master’s words. She knew he had a theory saying that Newstar was an old monster reborn, and the theory was sketchy at best, but now with Dandelion suddenly becoming an oracle it was obvious the old man indulged in fantasy too much.

  She would never say it, and she listened to unfortunate happenstance piling up into a genius plot by the farsighted Dandelion. Utter nonsense. The man was talented. He was alone, challenging the very best the world had to offer short of the imperial family, and he reached the finals. In fact, he had won the finals, and faced the winner of the underdog tournament only to lose after exhausting himself in the real finals.

  The victory was more luck than anything else. But luck mattered.

  “You’re not convinced?” The sect master kept a serene face, not at all offended, then spoke aloud. “Let’s congratulate our teams and collect our winnings.”

  ***

  “Congratulations, Newstar,” Dandelion said after Newt’s teammates let go of him.

  “Don’t you congratulate him, Dandelion.” Maelstrom pushed her way to them. “You cost me a thousand fourth realm spirit gems. I bet on you or me winning this round.”

  Dandelion shrugged. “A rich hellion like yourself can afford ten thousand spirit gems. Besides, Newstar almost certainly bet on himself; he is rich now, and he can spend some of his newfound wealth to treat us to a meal and some wine.”

  Newt did not mind, and Maelstrom’s anger faded. “I’m gonna drink all your spirit gems, Pumpkin.”

  He looked at Dandelion with a smile which seemed to say, ‘which pit did you drag this one out from?’ but spoke with more courtesy. “We should invite Everlast and her team, do you have any other friends?”

  Dandelion had other friends, and those friends had teammates, and soon enough, Newt entered a tavern Dandelion had reserved for the victory celebration, only the person celebrating was different; as was the person paying the bill.

  After enjoying excellent tea and delicacies, Newt finally saw people leave his big brother alone.

  “So, you were so confident in your victory, you reserved an entire tavern for yourself?”

  Dandelion shook his head.

  “I reserved the most expensive wine-house in the city, not any old random tavern.”

  Newt shuddered at the implication.

  “Relax, you can afford it; what’s a hundred fourth realm spirit gems for a man who won five hundred by betting?”

  Newt’s vision swam, the pastries suddenly turning to spirit gems in his eyes.

  “He won less than I lost!” Maelstrom slurred.

  “Excuse me, Dear,” Dandelion waved at the hostess serving their table. “No more drinks for the girl, she is a very mean drunk.”

  The hostess pointedly made no comments as she turned around.

  “What was that supposed to mean?” Maelstrom rose from her seat, leaning to the side, but Dandelion grabbed her arm to support her.

  “It means the tea here is very enjoyable.” Dandelion glanced at Newt. “It tastes like spirit gems, you should try some.”

  “You’re in an awfully good mood for someone who lost the final match.”

  Dandelion shrugged at Newt’s grumbles. “I hardly care about the long-term placement benefits; the reward for entering the finals is nice either way, and I bet on you winning and me taking second place, which won me some forty fifth realm spirit gems.”

  Newt’s jaw hit the floor.

  “You won what?”

  “Well, I placed bets on me winning, you winning, me taking second place, and you taking second place. A fifth realm spirit gem on each of those, means I lost two, won forty, and got back my original two from the winning bets. Tomorrow, I plan to bet ten fifth realm spirit gems each, split across whom I consider possible winners of the next stage.”

  “Who are you betting on?” Everlast asked, and Newt’s teammates leaned in closer.

  “Well, that is a loaded question if I have ever heard one. Gambling is a game of wits, knowledge, and ability to discern how events play out.”

  Dandelion looked at the droopy-eyed Maelstrom, who was close to passing out from how much she drank in a short while.

  “For example, only a fool would bet on a person who gets drunk during the most important tournament for cultivators at our realm.”

  “Hey, not fair,” Maelstrom’s head sank towards the table where she nestled it in her hands. “You drink like a barrel, no matter how much flows in, you don’t change.”

  She seemed to fall asleep before lifting her head.

  “You’re a cheater, abusing this tournament’s rules.”