Naked Sword Art

"…That's my girl."

Suddenly, several dozen Li Family Clan members instantly rose to their feet to cheer for Li Lian.

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

The Li Family clan erupted in unified chants from the stands, their voices thundering like war drums. Massive death banners and blood-red war flags waved in the wind, casting ominous shadows over the stadium. The sheer ferocity of their cry sent a chilling ripple through the arena.

Disciples of the Black Paradise Sect roared with renewed energy, their fighting spirit ignited. But on the other side, the cultivators of the Flowing Blade Sect stood frozen, their confidence visibly crumbling. Was this truly a tournament… or a public execution?

It was no longer just intimidation—it felt like war.

In the elders' viewing pavilion, Matriarch Qi chuckled, sipping from a jade cup.

"Those Li girls really are something."

Elder Yao Wu exhaled through her nose, a wry smile forming.

"At this rate, the tournament might end before it even starts."

…

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the arena, the disciples of the Flowing Blade Sect stood in tight formation. But despite their discipline, murmurs of unease rippled through the ranks like cracks in glass.

"Can we really win against that?" one elder whispered, his voice barely audible over the cheering crowd.

"Silence," another elder snapped, his tone sharp. "Don't forget—we have a secret weapon of our own. He won't lose to anyone."

He turned his head, eyes narrowing on a lone figure standing at the front of the group.

"Isn't that right, Demon Slayer?"

If Xiao Fang were here, he'd recognize the man instantly—Chu Piao.

Arms crossed, posture relaxed, Chu Piao stared across the battlefield with a calm, unreadable expression. His gaze lingered on Li Lian, her flaming wings still smoldering in the air like a divine omen.

"I'll win," he said flatly.

The confidence in his voice washed over the elders like a balm, and several exhaled in visible relief.

"Good," the elder said, clapping him on the back. "Just make it look like you're trying when it's your turn. Do this for me, and we'll finally set you free."

Chu Piao said nothing.

The Elder that had captured him while he was unconscious in the village had wrapped a [ Deathknot ] around his heart—a cruel technique that could crush his heart the instant it was triggered. If they'd ordered him to slaughter innocents, he would've gladly embraced death. But fighting in a tournament? That was easy.

His gaze drifted across the sea of faces until it landed on someone he hadn't expected to see—Xun Wei.

He remembered her clearly from the previous year, training alongside Lei Xinyi in the Hollow Forest of the Divine Sword Sect. At the time, she had been little more than a fledgling swordswoman—raw, inexperienced, and burning with potential. And yet, even then, he knew she was one of Xiao Fang's.

But now... she was different.

Gone was the unsure novice. Standing tall among the Black Paradise disciples, her presence was sharper, her stance grounded, and her aura far more composed. It was clear—Lei Xinyi's brutal training had forged her into something formidable.

The stage was set.

The tension was rising.

And the real battles had yet to begin.

.

.

.

As the ten disciples of each sect lined up on either side of the battle stage, the crowd's murmurs turned into a low hum of excitement. Above the platform, two floating stone pavilions hovered in the air, each supported by a glowing formation circle. Within them sat the two official commentators—elders from neutral sects who had been selected to narrate the event.

Their voices echoed across the stadium, enhanced through a powerful spiritual sound transmission technique.

"Esteemed guests, disciples, and honored elders—welcome once again to the grand inter-sect tournament between the Black Paradise Sect and the Flowing Blade Sect!"

"This year's format is a Ten-Man Endurance Gauntlet," one elder explained, his voice warm yet commanding. "Both sides have selected ten of their strongest disciples from the youngest generation. The matches will proceed in ascending order, starting with the weakest from each sect."

"The rules are simple," the second commentator continued, her voice more measured and precise. "The two weakest fighters will begin the first match. The winner will remain on stage to face the next fighter from the opposing side. This will continue until all ten from one side are eliminated."

"No talismans, no outside interference, and no intentional killing. A match is over when one party yields, is rendered unconscious, or is forcibly removed from the stage."

A wave of understanding rippled through the crowd.

"The last sect standing," the male commentator added with a grin, "wins."

Cheers erupted again.

"In other words," the female elder said, "one powerful disciple could, in theory, defeat all ten from the opposing sect. So be sure to pay attention. Hidden dragons often wait until the storm begins to reveal their fangs."

Then came the moment the audience was waiting for.

"Representing the Black Paradise Sect… the first fighter to take the stage… Xun Wei!"

She stepped forward, a determined glint in her eye.

Clad in elegant black and teal robes, Xun Wei's youthful appearance belied the sharp focus etched across her face. Her medium-length black hair danced behind her as she walked, and though she was the youngest and weakest of the ten, she carried herself with composure and silent pride.

"That girl is only 19 years old? She's hardly been a cultivator for even a year," someone from the Flowing Blade side muttered.

"Don't underestimate her," whispered another.

"She's one of the youngest Core Court disciples in their Black Paradise sect's history. Whatever her talent is, she mustn't be looked down upon."

From the opposing side, the Flowing Blade Sect's first representative stepped forward. A tall boy with short hair, wearing a silver robe trimmed in blue. His spiritual aura was light but honed, and the twin sabers strapped to his back gleamed with deadly sharpness.

"Flowing Blade Sect's first fighter—Lin Wu of the Wind-Stepping Sabers!"