C15 Eighteen Moves

This bag brimmed with over three hundred Magic Soul Pills. Had Bai Yeh not hit the exchange limit, he wouldn't have left the Wooden Man Room so soon. He owed a debt of gratitude to Bai Zhixin for bringing a crew to deliver the imprints, which saved him a considerable amount of time.

Following the battle, Bai Yeh's reputation soared throughout the sect. Outer Sect disciples, Inner Sect disciples, and even the Sect Master and elders had all caught wind of his exploits.

Alone in the Wooden Man Room, he faced dozens and emerged triumphantly. Such a feat was unmatched.

Bai Yeh methodically absorbed the Magic Soul Pills, each one sending a wave of heat coursing through his body. An ordinary disciple might see only a handful of these pills in a year. Mo Qinghong had monopolized the Wooden Man Room for three days, and even then, he had to share the spoils with others, lucky to keep a few dozen for himself. No other disciple in the Soul Finishing Sect had the luxury of consuming three hundred pills in one sitting like Bai Yeh.

Before long, his Heavenly Soul was ablaze, signaling he could ingest no more without overburdening himself.

Drawing his Soft Sword, Bai Yeh set into motion, practicing the Flashing Sword Spell and Swan Shocking Step Arts to release the pent-up energy. At this rate, advancing to the Seventh Level of the Power Soul Stage was inevitable.

Deep in his training, Bai Yeh was interrupted by rustling noises nearby.

"Who's there?" he called out sharply.

The bushes fell silent briefly before a group of youthful faces peeked out timidly.

Bai Yeh paused, taking in the sight of these newcomers, barely twenty, much like himself. Their clothes were pristine, marking them as recent initiates to the sect.

"Senior... Senior Brother, greetings," stammered the leader, a dark-skinned boy with a slight build. "I... I'm Zhang Dazhuang. We... We've all been in the sect for less than a year."

Zhang Dazhuang? With such a frail frame, the name 'Strong' seemed a bit of a stretch.

"Why are you hiding?" Bai Yeh inquired.

"We... We wish to follow you," Zhang Dazhuang whispered.

"Follow me?" Bai Yeh paused, taken aback.

"Yes..." Zhang Dazhuang fumbled, scratching his head with a bashful tone. "Word of your confrontation in the Wooden Man Room has spread throughout the entire sect. You're not listed on the Tiger Dragon Ranking, yet you dared to stand up to those who are. We... We'd like to be by your side, hoping you'll take us under your wing..."

Ah, so they were seeking a patron...

"You've got it all wrong," Bai Yeh countered, shaking his head. "We're all part of the same sect; there's no question of taking anyone in. If you're looking for a protector, the sect is teeming with masters. Why turn to me?"

"The sect does have its share of masters, but... they refuse to take us in. We're newcomers with little strength, and they look down on us. Nearly every high-ranking expert on the Tiger Dragon Ranking has gathered their own circle of elite disciples, monopolizing the sect's resources. We, the newly initiated, are left with nothing, our strength diminishing by the day. That's why we want to follow you, to challenge them and vie for resources. Maybe then we'll have a chance to rise," Zhang Dazhuang declared, bolstering his courage.

Bai Yeh's gaze swept over the hopeful faces before him.

Yet, Bai Yeh was one to avoid hassle. Taking on such a group would mean the end of any peace in the days to come.

"Better seek someone else," he advised, shaking his head.

With those final words, Bai Yeh departed, disregarding the continued pleas from Zhang Dazhuang and the rest, leaving a trail of disillusionment in his wake.

Outside the sect, it was said that the Soul Finishing Sect People adhered to a code of honor and esteemed righteousness. Now it seemed that such tales were far from the truth. No sect could escape the survival of the fittest.

Bai Yeh, however, bore no resentment. The world was as it was, and if the Soul Finishing Sect coddled its members too much, they would only perish, unprepared for the harsh realities beyond the sect's walls.

The commotion in the Wooden Man Room was short-lived, as all attention quickly shifted to the Dragon Tiger Platform.

The five-day deadline was fast approaching, and by early morning, the area around the Dragon Tiger Platform was swarming with disciples. Among the onlookers were several distinct groups: one led by the seasoned disciple Mo Qinghong, and another by the up-and-coming Zhang Dazhuang. It was clear they hadn't lost hope.

Mo Qinghong, with the sword token in hand, stood with closed eyes at the forefront of the platform.

The entire Soul Finishing Sect had been abuzz with the escalating feud between Mo Qinghong and Bai Yeh. The disciples couldn't stop talking about it, and while Mo Qinghong's abilities were well-known, Bai Yeh remained an enigma, stirring up even more curiosity.

"Hey, did you hear? That Bai Yeh guy took on over fifty of Senior Sister Bai Zhixin's group in the Wooden Man Room the other day!"

"Yeah, I heard Bai Yeh used the wooden men to wage guerrilla warfare. His agility gave him the upper hand, leading to Senior Sister Bai's defeat."

"Heh, luck won't be on his side today. Senior Brother Mo is enraged and won't hold back. Bai Yeh might just meet his end."

"That's not a given. Remember, Bai Yeh effortlessly took down Guan Chengfei! His strength is not to be underestimated."

Murmurs and speculation rippled through the crowd.

Bai Zhixin's face was a mask of displeasure as she fixed her gaze on the narrow path, anticipating the arrival of that one person.

Time passed, and still, there was no sign of Bai Yeh.

The disciples grew increasingly curious.

"Why hasn't he shown up yet?"

"Do you think he got cold feet and went into hiding?"

"If he violates the pact, Senior Brother Mo can deal with him as he sees fit. Breaking the Dragon and Tiger agreement is a serious offense. He's only making things worse for himself."

Amidst the growing doubt, a figure emerged on the path.

All eyes turned.

"It's Bai Yeh!"

"He's arrived!"

The calls echoed continuously.

Zhang Dazhuang and his companions rushed over with joy.

"Senior Brother Bai, you've made it. We were worried that..."

"Dazhuang, what are you blabbering about? Senior Brother Bai would never fail to show up."

Zhang Dazhuang was about to respond, but he bit his tongue as those next to him swiftly chimed in.

"What are you all doing here? I told you, if you're looking for a patron, find someone else."

Bai Yeh gave them a brief glance, then without further ado, he headed straight for the Dragon Tiger Platform.

Zhang Dazhuang and the rest grinned sheepishly but didn't depart, choosing instead to accompany him.

The throng parted like the Red Sea, with countless eyes following Bai Yeh's every move.

Mo Qinghong watched Bai Yeh with a frosty gaze, his lips curling into a menacing grin.

"Take a good breath while you can. Soon, you might find breathing a luxury." No sooner had he spoken than he tossed the sword token to Bai Yeh.

With a serene expression, Bai Yeh caught the token, anointed it with his blood, and Mo Qinghong's smirk grew even more twisted. Together, they leaped onto the platform.

Huala.

Golden patterns sprang up around the Dragon Tiger Platform, sealing the arena from the world.

A hush fell over the crowd as they watched with bated breath.

The skirmish with Guan Chengfei was child's play compared to this. Now, it was a true clash of titans, for Mo Qinghong was a renowned master on the Tiger Dragon Ranking!

"Any regrets?" Mo Qinghong asked, his smile tinged with mockery.

"Regret what?" Bai Yeh asked, genuinely confused.

"Regretting that you crossed me. Had you been more compliant, would you be in this predicament?" Mo Qinghong taunted.

Bai Yeh shook his head at the accusation. "Your people started this, not me. And since I'm standing here unharmed, what's there to regret?"

The chill in Mo Qinghong's eyes deepened. "Really? We'll soon see who ends up on the ground."

With those words, a gleam of light flashed from his hand, and a shining silver spear appeared.

A storage ring?

Such a precious item was beyond the reach of ordinary folk. In the entire Bai family, only the head, Bai Qingshan, possessed one.

"Make your move, I'll give you ten!" Mo Qinghong declared with confidence, twirling his spear with flair.

Ten moves? That's quite the boast!

"Fine by me!"

Bai Yeh didn't hold back. Taking a deep breath, he summoned the power of his Heavenly Soul and lunged at Mo Qinghong.

"So presumptuous! You dare to face me unarmed, relying on mere flesh and blood?" Mo Qinghong seethed, interpreting Bai Yeh's choice as a direct insult.

Yet, as Bai Yeh's soul power surged, his fist became enveloped in a chilling frost, as if sheathed in ice.

"Is that the Bai family's Frost White Divine Fist? It seems far colder than Senior Sister Bai Zhixin's technique," murmurs of astonishment rippled through the crowd. Even at a distance, they could feel the biting cold emanating from his fist.

The fury in Mo Qinghong's eyes gave way to astonishment.

He quickly backpedaled, his steps light and swift, narrowly avoiding the frost-laden punch. But as he sidestepped, a streak of cold light surged towards him.

Startled, Mo Qinghong reflexively parried with his spear.

Clang!

The spear shaft reverberated from the impact. The force nearly wrenched the weapon from his grasp. When he refocused, he noticed a slender, flexible sword in Bai Yeh's hand – Guan Chengfei's sword.

"Eight moves left!" Bai Yeh announced with a smile. He executed the Swan Shocking Step Arts, moving fluidly like a dragon, creating a blur of afterimages. Mo Qinghong's eyes struggled to follow, his heart pounding in his chest.

Could it be the Swan Shocking Step Arts? How could it possess such formidable power?

In the blink of an eye, another wave of cold brushed past his ear. Mo Qinghong unleashed his soul power, thrusting his spear forward.

But he struck nothing but air!

He had been deceived!

A chill ran down his spine as he whipped around, only to feel a sword pierce his abdomen, leaving a gaping wound.

Mo Qinghong staggered back as Bai Yeh stood his ground, as immovable as a mountain.

"Seven moves to go," Bai Yeh stated, his tone even, yet each word struck Mo Qinghong like a piercing needle.

Mo Qinghong's expression flickered with uncertainty.

After just three exchanges, he had already been struck by a sword. Given his current disarray, the thought of enduring the next seven moves seemed life-threatening.

Bai Yeh charged again, surprisingly sheathing his sword and opting for a fistfight.

With the sword out of sight, it was impossible to predict when or where Bai Yeh would strike next, making his fists equally formidable.

In that instant, Mo Qinghong was utterly bewildered.

Reading his opponent's confident gaze, Bai Yeh sensed victory was his. He launched a punch without a moment's delay.

But in the blink of an eye, Mo Qinghong's spear vibrated, unleashing a fearsome wave of soul power that swept across the area. The spear stabbed into the earth, causing the Dragon Tiger Platform to thunder ominously.

Bai Yeh stumbled back, steadying himself before flashing a slight smile. "Senior Brother Mo, didn't you promise to withstand ten of my moves? Losing your composure after only the fourth?"

"Shut up!" Mo Qinghong bellowed, charging forward like a furious lion, spear in hand.

"You allowed me four moves; in kind, I'll grant you the same courtesy," Bai Yeh remarked coolly.

"I'll have you on the ground in just one move!" Mo Qinghong roared, his spear lunging forward like a dragon devouring the landscape.

Bai Yeh, hands clasped behind his back, executed the Swan Shocking Step Arts once more. He leaned back at a precarious angle, yet remained upright as the spear whistled past his cheek.

"One move!"

"Die!"

Mo Qinghong thrust his spear downward, but Bai Yeh, still leaning back, twisted away in a fluid motion.

Thud!

The spear struck the earth, missing its mark.

"Two moves!"

"Damn you!" Mo Qinghong was seething, his spearwork growing more ferocious.

Yet Bai Yeh slipped through the onslaught like an eel, untouched by the storm of thrusts.

"Three moves! Four moves! Five moves! Six moves..."

When the barrage subsided, Bai Yeh emerged unscathed. He stepped aside, watching Mo Qinghong with a detached calm.

"Eighteen moves have been made!"