Chương 134: The Grand Arena

The Grand Arena of Coralspire Harbor was a colossal amphitheater carved from the same white stone and living coral as the city itself. For generations, it had hosted grand tournaments and beast-taming exhibitions, but never in its long history had it been the stage for a conflict of this magnitude, where the entire economic future of the city hung in the balance. Every seat was filled.

The common citizenry, merchants, sailors, and cultivators of every level packed the stands, their voices a low, anxious hum that filled the salt-scented air. On the western side, under a grand canopy of jade-green silk, sat the leadership of the Jade Sea Pavilion. Branch Master Jing's face was a stoic mask, but his white-knuckled grip on the arm of his chair betrayed his tension. Beside him, Elder Quan looked pale and worried, his usual good cheer entirely absent.

On the eastern side, under a banner of ominous black, sat the triumphant delegation of the Azure Shell Chamber and the Riptide Legion. Elder Feng's cruel, thin-lipped smile was on full display, his eyes already feasting on the prize he believed was his. Beside him sat the severe, iron-faced leader of the Riptide Legion's contingent, his arms crossed, his Core Formation aura a palpable, oppressive weight. A deep, resonant gong echoed through the arena, silencing the crowd.

A formally dressed announcer, a respected neutral elder from the city's governing council, floated to the center of the vast, sandy arena floor.

"By ancient, honored tradition, the Five-Match Asset Duel between the challenger, the Azure Shell Chamber, and the defender, the Jade Sea Pavilion, shall now commence!" his voice boomed, amplified by spiritual energy.

"The terms have been set! The stake is all! Let the champions be presented!" From the eastern gate, five figures strode out, their black coral armor absorbing the bright sunlight, their collective killing intent a chilling wind that washed over the crowd. This was the Riptide Legion's hand-picked team. Leading them was the Legion's elder himself, a 4th-level Core Formation expert known as Commander Vorlag.

Following him were two other Core Formation warriors—a grim-faced woman at the 2nd-level and a brutish man at the 3rd-level. The final two were a pair of younger cultivators, their faces arrogant and cruel, both at the absolute peak of the Foundation Establishment realm, clearly the Legion's most elite disciples. A wave of fear and despair washed through the supporters of the Jade Sea Pavilion. Three Core Formation experts and two peak Foundation Establishment geniuses. It was a force of overwhelming power.

"And now," the announcer called out, "the champions of the Jade Sea Pavilion and their honored partners!" From the western gate, their own five champions emerged, walking into the sunlight. First came Weapons Master Hemlock, a wizened old man with a long, grey beard, his back straighter than it had been in years. He held a simple, masterfully crafted steel spear, his peak Foundation Establishment aura calm and steady, honed by a century of experience.

Beside him walked Captain Valerius, the guardian of the Pavilion. His masterwork armor gleamed, and his 3rd-level Core Formation aura burned like a contained furnace. His hand rested on the hilt of his greatsword, his expression one of iron resolve. These two were known quantities, respected figures in the city. The next three, however, were an enigma, and a collective gasp went through the arena as they appeared.

Kui strode forward, his wealthy merchant robes replaced by a set of sturdy, custom-made fighting leathers. On his back was a magnificent, newly forged greatshield, a perfect replica of a turtle's shell, made from a shimmering alloy of Adamantine Sea Iron and Star-Coral. It pulsed with a defensive power so profound it seemed to bend the very air around it. He was still smiling his cheerful, fawning smile, but there was an ancient, unshakeable weight to his presence that made the ground tremble. Then came Xylia.

She wore her simple beast-hide armor, but on her hands were a pair of terrifying new weapons. They were heavy gauntlets forged from a dark, menacing metal, each finger tipped with a long, razor-sharp talon that looked capable of rending steel. She walked with a predator's grace, her rough, beautiful face a mask of cold fury, her eyes scanning the enemy champions as if she were choosing her first meal. But it was the final figure who stole the breath from every single person in the arena.

Khaos walked last, his twin abyssal scythes not held in his hands, but floating behind him, flanking him like a pair of dark, celestial guardians. His divine, handsome face was a mask of utter contempt, his nebular eyes not even deigning to look at his opponents, instead gazing up at the sky as if the entire affair was a tiresome waste of his time. The sheer, overwhelming pressure of his ancient authority was so immense that even Commander Vorlag of the Riptide Legion felt a primal, instinctual flicker of fear.

"An interesting… collection," Vorlag grunted, his eyes narrowed, trying to gauge the depth of these three unknown experts. He could feel their power, but it was strange, alien, not like the cultivator auras he was used to.

"Let the first match begin!" the announcer declared.

"Weapons Master Hemlock of the Jade Sea Pavilion versus Disciple Kael of the Riptide Legion!" Hemlock walked to the center of the arena, his experienced eyes calm. Across from him, the young, arrogant Riptide disciple sneered, drawing a wicked-looking trident.

"Don't worry, old man," Kael mocked.

"I'll make this quick." The gong sounded. Kael exploded into motion.

"Riptide Vortex!" he roared. A spectral, vicious-looking Raging Boar materialized behind him, its phantom tusks dripping with fury as it dove into his trident. The weapon began to spin with incredible speed, gathering spiritual energy into a churning vortex around its tines. He thrust forward, the vortex a drill aimed to shred the old man. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Hemlock did not retreat. He stamped the butt of his spear into the sand.

"Bastion!" A shimmering, translucent image of a great Ironhide Ox appeared before him, its massive phantom horns meeting the vortex head-on. The sound of a thousand crashing waves filled the arena as Kael's attack was blunted. But the force was immense, and Hemlock slid back a full ten feet, his sandals carving deep trenches in the sand. Kael sneered.

"Stubborn old fool!" He pulled back and began a relentless assault.

"Crashing Wave Thrust! Serpent's Coil Strike!" Each attack was a furious, powerful blow, empowered by his Raging Boar spirit, aimed to overwhelm the old man's defenses. Hemlock was a master of conservation and redirection. His spear was not a weapon of attack, but a living wall. He didn't meet Kael's power head-on. He deflected, parried, and turned the boy's own momentum against him, his movements economical and impossibly precise.

His Ironhide Ox spirit would flicker, its spectral form appearing to block a blow just as his spear was redirecting another. For ten minutes, the crowd watched in awe as the wizened master held off the ferocious prodigy. But experience could not defy the fundamental laws of cultivation forever. Kael was younger, stronger, and his spiritual energy reserves were far deeper. Hemlock was beginning to tire, his movements a fraction of a second slower, his breathing growing heavier.

Seeing his chance, Kael let out a final, triumphant roar.

"It's over, old man! MAELSTROM IMPALE!" He poured every ounce of his remaining energy into his trident. The Raging Boar spirit let out a silent scream, its form becoming almost solid as it wrapped around the weapon. The vortex of energy reformed, larger and more violent than before, and he lunged. This time, Hemlock's Ox spirit flickered and shattered under the overwhelming assault.

The trident smashed through the old man's desperate parry, and its central tine tore a deep, bloody gash across his shoulder, sending him staggering back. The arena fell silent. Hemlock looked at his wound, then at the panting but victorious young man. A weary, dignified smile touched his lips. He drove the butt of his spear into the sand, leaning on it for support, and bowed his head.

"I concede," he said, his voice full of dignity, not defeat.

"The youth surpasses the old. A worthy victory." The Riptide Legion's side erupted in cheers. The score was 1-0.

"The second match!" the announcer cried, his voice cutting through the mixed reactions of the crowd.

"Captain Valerius of the Jade Sea Pavilion versus Elder Mara of the Riptide Legion!" The grim-faced, 2nd-level Core Formation woman stepped forward, two serrated wave-blades in her hands. Captain Valerius met her in the center, drawing his greatsword. This was a battle of true equals, and the entire arena held its breath. The moment the gong sounded, the arena floor exploded. The two Core Formation experts clashed, their auras erupting in a visible shockwave of power.

Valerius's martial spirit, a great Goliath Gorilla, materialized behind him, its phantom fists beating its chest with a silent roar. Across from him, a spiritual manifestation of a vicious, sleek Shadow Leopard shot forward, its form a blur of dark energy—Elder Mara's spirit.

"Tidal Blades!" Mara shrieked, her body a blur. She became a whirlwind of deadly grace, her twin blades leaving trails of dark energy, each strike aimed to chip away at Valerius's defenses. Her Shadow Leopard spirit was a phantom menace, darting and weaving, its spectral claws swiping at his flanks to distract him. Valerius was her opposite: an unyielding mountain.

"Fortress of the Deep!" he roared. His greatsword was not fast, but each swing carried the weight of a crashing wave, creating a fortress of steel around him. His Goliath Gorilla spirit moved in perfect sync, its massive phantom fists not attacking, but acting as mobile shields, deflecting the Leopard's lightning-fast strikes. The battle raged, a stunning display of high-level combat. It was a classic contest of speed versus power, offense versus defense.

The sand of the arena floor was torn asunder, carved into trenches and craters by their clashing techniques. For a full half-hour, neither could gain a decisive advantage. Mara was faster, landing a dozen shallow cuts on Valerius's armor, but his defense was too solid for a fatal blow. Valerius's power was greater, but Mara was too agile to be caught by his heavy, devastating swings. Seeing the battle becoming a stalemate, Mara grew impatient.

"Enough of this game! Drown in the abyss! LEOPARD'S FURY STRIKE!" She poured her energy into her spirit. The Shadow Leopard's eyes glowed with a malevolent red light, and it shot forward with blinding speed, not at Valerius, but at his spirit. At the same time, Mara herself lunged, her twin blades aimed directly at Valerius's heart, a pincer attack designed to overwhelm him. It was the opening Valerius had been waiting for. Instead of retreating, he roared,"IRON GORILLA DEFENSE!"

He ignored Mara's attack completely. His Goliath Gorilla spirit turned, taking the full, ferocious impact of the Shadow Leopard spirit's charge. The gorilla was driven back, its phantom form flickering, but it held. Its massive fists shot out, clamping down on the leopard, trapping it in an unbreakable grip. At the same instant, Mara's blades struck Valerius's chest. But in his desperate gamble, he had focused all his defensive energy into that single point.

Her blades scraped against his armor with a horrific screech of protesting metal, but they failed to pierce through. Her eyes widened in shock at his suicidal defense. It was a fatal hesitation.

"FOR CORALSPIRE!" Valerius bellowed, his own greatsword, now free from defending, glowing with the brilliant light of his full, unrestrained power. He swung it in a devastating upward arc, smashing through her panicked guard and catching her squarely in the chest. A boom like a thunderclap echoed through the arena. Mara was sent flying, tumbling through the air like a broken doll before crashing into the far wall of the arena, unconscious and defeated. For a moment, there was a stunned silence.

Then, a roar of pure, unadulterated joy erupted from the Pavilion's supporters, a sound so loud it seemed to shake the very sky. The score was tied, 1-1. The announcer, his own voice filled with excitement, floated back to the center.

"A magnificent victory for Captain Valerius! The score is even! Let the third match begin! Lady Xylia of the White Paw Company versus… Disciple Garrick Vorlag of the Riptide Legion!"