The arena's ground was made out of refined cold iron. Its area reached half a li on each side. Beside the black iron battlefield were stands that rose up ten storeys.
Each level of the stands was packed with thousands of people; their cheers resounded through the arena. The sheer volume of cheers left the air quivering.
The seating areas were built out of baked red bricks; the luxury in their accommodations grew according to the floor.
However, these cheers weren't directed at what was to come. Rather, it was directed to the man who sat in the private room at the highest stand.
Blade Master Tao, a martial artist of the Ninth Synergy, the lord who led the domain for a thousand years.
All sect members and affiliates sat on the ninth storey. Most of them were used to this scene, having watched the competition every year.
However, this was a first for Vera and Chun.
Within the Five Plains, Vera had observed various competitions, but this scale was the biggest yet.
He turned to Aspartese, his brows furrowed. "Is it like this every time?"
Aspartese laughed boisterously. "If you find this extreme, wait till the fights start. Disciples had to wear earplugs when the branch masters fought."
Vera turned to Chun, who sat in front of him; they exchanged nervous glances. Chang-yu, who sat beside Chun, held his ears shut with her hands.
"I told you to buy earplugs!" Her glare was piercing Vera's skin.
All he could do was bow down and apologise. However, Chang-yu's gaze wasn't the only one that sent shivers down his skin.
There was someone watching him from the Blade Master's private room. It was clear to him that they weren't trying to hide their presence.
Could it be...?
The thought came to him and went.
The Blade Master didn't even know who Vera was. Even if he heard from Aspartese, it wouldn't warrant this much interest.
Just then, the raucous cheering calmed down. The curtains over the private room were drawn back. The Blade Master walked over to the railing; his right arm rose up as though he were gesturing for the arena's silence.
None dared to make a noise before he spoke. Not because he let out an oppressive energy, nor because he commanded such fear.
It was just because they respected him.
"Welcome to the Blade Master sect's 100th inter-branch competition. I'm honoured to see that so many people have taken the time to come and watch our little competition." His voice was deep and coarse.
The myriad scars over his face were reflected in every movement he made. From the way he stood to the words he spoke.
The moment he set his hand down, cheers exploded.
The vibrations climbed all the way to the ninth storey, permeating Vera's body. However, his gaze was still stuck to the private room.
He recalled the day he sensed Leng's presence.
A blurred sword in the midst of a thousand foes.
The Blade Master, on the other hand...
A monolithic blade stained in crimson, myriad corpses strewn beneath its hilt.
As much as he respected his father, Leng, the difference was insurmountable. Even when restrained, the blade's edge pressed against the observer's skin.
A crimson warmth flowed from Vera's neck.
As he continued to stare, Aspartese pulled him back. "Vera, stop staring! You're going to get seriously hurt."
Aspartese's thick palm gripped the side of Vera's neck, applying pressure to the cut that formed near his carotid.
Vera took a deep breath; his consciousness returned. "What happened?"
The sensation of cold iron lingered over his neck.
Aspartese, who was busy searing the flesh wound over Vera's neck, spoke. "You looked into his presence for too long."
As the searing heat over his neck calmed, the flow of blood halted. "Why was I bleeding? Did the Blade Master cut me?"
His pulse pressed against the patch work over his neck; his immolated skin barely held his blood back.
Aspartese knocked Vera's head gently. "As if. The issue was that you realised a portion of his presence. As a stranger stared at it for too long, it was at the verge of assuming enmity."
He handed Vera a cloth and leaned back into his seat. "Don't think poorly of the master for this. With thousands staring at him, he tried to restrain his presence as much as he could. Nonetheless, those who saw too much were affected."
Vera scanned through the stands.
Just as Aspartese had told him, a few people on the ninth storey were indeed cut. Most bled excessively, but few only had the skin on their neck split.
Vera wiped the blood off his neck, his vision somewhat disoriented. "Do presences do that normally?"
Aspartese watched the empty battlefield with a piece of jerky wedged between his teeth.
"Most won't. But his presence was forged in the battle of the Blood Sea. Anyone who fought in that hellhole would be like this."
Vera recalled hearing about the Blood Sea from Aspartese before.
Wasn't that a part of the First Ascender's title?
Though before Vera could ask about it, he felt a light tap on his shoulder.
"Wish me luck." Chang-yu spoke as she got up from her seat.
As much as he wanted to pursue the question, now wasn't the time. Considering it didn't seem like a story that would end quickly. Vera let out a low sigh and calmed himself down.
The sharpness in his eyes eased off.
He turned to Chang-yu with a bright smile on his face. "Go cripple them all!"
Somewhat invigorated by Vera's unconventional cheers, she responded. "I will!"
Chang-yu ran down the stairwell at the back of the stands and rushed to the battlefield. As she was on the stairwell, a voice boomed through the arena.
"All non-seeded second-rank disciples are to gather at the battlefield for the first round!" The voice echoed from the four corners of the field. The highs and lows in its pitch were all exacerbated.
Vera's eyes darted around the field, trying to locate its source. But even after a minute of looking around, he couldn't pinpoint the exact source.
He could point out four distinct sources of the voice, but the announcer was nowhere to be seen.
Aspartese, who sat beside him, looked at Vera with a dumbfounded gaze. He grabbed Vera by the head and made him face the far end of the arena. "Look at the fifth storey."
In the private room on the fifth storey stood a woman with a flail-shaped item in her hand.
Vera followed the woman's lips and realised that it was her words that he was hearing all this time. "How is she doing that?"
Aspartese let out an exasperated sigh. "Your home must be the backwaters of the backwaters... They are using medium enhancement and flow control engravings on that hollow flail."
Largely annoyed by Aspartese's insults directed to Broomwich, Vera decided to go for more luxurious dinners on the way back.
***
A flask of thousand-year Lay Mou was placed over a polished oak table with two cups beside it. Tao and Long sat side by side.
While the Blade Master observed the battlefield, Long Tian stared at the stands over on the ninth storey.
Tao took a sip of his wine; he turned toward Long. "Who are you staring at so intently?"
His stare unwavering, Long responded. "Didn't I tell you I came here to observe an investment?"
Tao's brows furrowed; his expression grew confused. "Are you trying to unnerve your 'investment' with those eyes?"
Beyond all of his expectations, Long just nodded. "I want to see how much I can scare him by just staring."
The Blade Master looked at Vera with a pitiful expression.
Poor child, he got caught by the wrong immortal...
As his pity for Vera grew, the announcer spoke up again.
"For the first event, we will have a team battle. Second rankers will team up with their fellow branch members and fight a branch that is of a higher order than their own."
At the announcer's words, a total of eight teams lined up at the edge of the battlefield.
Dust rose from the cold iron battlefield due to the weight of their steps.
Every team consisted of ten members, excluding those who had been seeded in.
One by one, each team walked over to one of the four corners of the grounds; opposite to them stood a team from a higher branch.
Long glanced at the teams on the battlefield, his expression unchanging. "Other than a few members of the main branch team, these second-rankers aren't really worth mentioning."
Despite Long's harsh words, Tao's gaze was calm. "The second rankers you saw in the early days were still involved in war efforts. In this age of peace there is no need for strong martial artists. Only capable ones."
Long took a swig from his cup, finishing it off in one go. "I went to the lower world recently. Even without wars, those people were still doing more."
No matter how much Long insulted the younger generation, Tao was unbothered. "That is why you are still young... As far as I've heard from your father, those people still achieve manifestation through battle. Despite their greater strength, their numbers could never compete."
Long sighed, he picked up the flask of Lay Mou and filled his cup.
"You're too calm uncle. Do you let people insult you like this normally?"
Tao laughed at Long's words. He patted his back gently.
"Do you think anyone but my nephew has the gall to talk to me like this?"
Long's cheeks turned red, his gaze facing the floor. "That is true... I'm sorry for speaking out of line."
"Don't worry about it, little Long. It is true that this year's second-rankers are a bit lacking."
The two sat in silence, observing the team battle that took place below.
Raucous cheers filled the arena as each combatant unsheathed their weapons. Each assumed a similar fighting stance, mostly due to the similarity of the weapon arts in the sect.
The announcer raised her hand skyward. "Start!" She shouted as her hand crashed to the ground.
At her signal the eighty combatants rushed toward each other.
Shrill clangs of swords and polearms engulfed the battlefield, its volume competing with the cheers from the stands.
***
Meanwhile, within the Sixth Sector of the domain, a meeting of unsavoury folk took place.
Two beggars sat across each other in the dining hall of the Second Home inn.
Waiters and guests both steered clear of them. However, none tried to remove them from the premises.
The two chowed down on bowls of noodles and stir-fried chicken, unaffected by the people looking at them.
They spoke of nothing for the first few minutes, their only goal being to empty the bowls of food in front of them.
After nearly fifteen minutes, they leaned into their chairs with a satisfied expression.
The older of the two spoke first. "Bong Chan, don't you miss the days we could eat like this in the Sixth Sector?"
The younger beggar, Bong Chan, picked up a flask of Dukuang with his grimy hands and drained it in one gulp.
After letting out a deep and wet burp he replied. "Yes elder brother, Gong! Those damn Blade Master sect enforcers pushed into the alleys. I can't even beg on these streets anymore."
The waiters who watched this scene marked out the plates they used. They decided it would be best to discard them, once the two beggars were gone.
The elder beggar, Gong, shooed away the loitering waiters, his gaze fixed on his junior. "Anyways, what do we do about the kid? Though it isn't public now, he is a child of the Zhuge clan.
He took a sip of his wine and continued speaking. "We would lose out on a whole lot of money if we don't get him back soon."
Beggar Bong leaned into the table, his hands smelling of stir-fry sauce pressed against his chin. "That bastard with him seems to be a part of the sect. The second rank scavengers who went after him also lost contact."
His expression grew serious. "They are most likely dead..."
His eyes gleamed as he noticed remnants of food on his plate. He picked up the plate and licked off the excess.
He looked at his senior, his face half covered in gravy. "The bastard with him seems well connected with the branch master as well. No ordinary member will do. I think we should ask the third heir for help."
Beggar Gong pushed his flask of Dukuang over to his junior. "I knew I could rely on you for an answer junior! You have always been the smartest in our group."
He laughed boisterously as he patted his junior's back. The grime on his hand blending in perfectly with beggar Bong's rags.
After finishing of their meal, the two brothers sneaked out of the restaurant successfully.
Although, it was just that the waiters didn't want to bother asking beggars for money.
Just like that noon passed.
In the First Sector, a battle for pride and power took place.
However, in the various alleys of the Blade Master's domain...
Beggars were planning to earn money without begging.
Though for now, Vera sat in the arena, unaware of the grime he could be stained with.