Chapter 46: Close-fitting Short Garments

On the tenth of October, under gazes that flickered between clarity and shadow, this year's Three-City Dao Debate officially commenced.

First-year, third-year, and fifth-year students naturally competed in separate divisions. For instance, the two first-year students from Maple Forest City would each face a first-year student from Sanshan City and Wangjiang City, respectively.

Once the first round concluded, the remaining three winners would enter a round-robin format: A fights B, B fights C, and C fights A. A win earned three points, a draw earned one, and a loss earned zero. The one with the highest total points would be crowned the champion of the first-year division for the Three-City Dao Debate.

In this way, the competition tested not only individual strength but also the overall strength of the Dao Academies. After all, if two competitors in the final round hailed from the same academy, they could leisurely preserve their strength to target the third person.

The first-year debates began first. With three cities and six cultivators, three battles commenced simultaneously.

The venue was set in the plaza in front of the City Lord's Mansion. Because this area was frequently used as a site for the City Guard to rally before deployment, the common folk also called it the Martial Arena.

The first-year cultivators from the city academies were mostly in the early stages of the Foundation Establishment stage. Their battles focused primarily on Daoist arts, though they were invariably supplemented by martial techniques. This made them the easiest matches for the common people to understand, and thus, they were arguably the most popular.

By early morning, the area was packed so tightly that not a single drop of water could pass through. The people of Maple Forest City had brought their entire families, gathering around the Martial Arena like they were attending a market fair. It took the deployment of the City Guard to barely maintain order.

There were no classes for Jiang An'an that day, so Ling He naturally took her to watch the matches.

Because of the massive crowd, Jiang An'an sat upon Ling He's shoulders, clapping her small hands and shouting loudly to cheer for her brother.

Zhao Rucheng and Huang Azhan were, naturally, among the first to spectate Jiang Wang's match. However, a man of Zhao's immense wealth would never stoop to the undignified act of shouting personally; instead, he stood not far away, where over a dozen burly men he had hired were bellowing at the top of their lungs.

"Jiang Wang, victory! Jiang Wang, victory!"

Two large banners also fluttered in the wind—

On the left, it read: "Striking Sanshan, no peer in sight."

On the right, it read: "Trampling Wangjiang, who dares call themselves a hero?"

Though Jiang Wang certainly wouldn't appreciate the sentiment.

For a time, the cheers for Jiang Wang drowned out the entire venue, making the debate feel more like a personal performance for him. People whispered to one another, asking who this Jiang Wang was. Upon learning he was a representative of Maple Forest City, the simple-hearted locals erupted in waves of cheers.

Standing in the arena, Jiang Wang felt... quite awkward.

All three matches were held side-by-side, with all six cultivators present. From the gazes that swept over him, both intentionally and unintentionally, Jiang Wang realized he had become public enemy number one. If not for the rules, he feared he would be facing a one-against-five situation right now—and that included his senior brother from the same Maple Forest City academy.

"What a show-off, why all the flashiness!" Lin Zhengli from Wangjiang City was the most dissatisfied. He didn't even look at his own opponent, instead spitting in Jiang Wang's direction.

The sound was neither heavy nor light. Jiang Wang acted as if he hadn't heard it.

The Martial Arena was divided into three combat zones, with large buffer zones left between the lines.

Cultivators from the County Academy served as the head referees, while two instructors from the Maple Forest City academy served as assistant referees. Judging a fight was simple: the one who fell was the loser, so there was no need to worry about referee bias. In fact, the primary role of the referees was to prevent young cultivators from losing control and causing fatalities.

Jiang Wang's opponent was from Sanshan City.

The man was short and stocky, wearing tight-fitting martial attire, with muscles as thick as stones.

The two sides exchanged formal salutations and took their stances.

At the referee's command, Jiang Wang drew his sword!

He rose like a soaring dragon, his sword piercing through like a falling meteor.

Almost at the exact moment the Sanshan cultivator began his hand seals, Jiang Wang had already closed the distance with his sword.

Decisive and rapid.

The "Purple Qi from the East" sword technique held an almost overwhelming advantage in combat before reaching the Transcendent stage.

In the previous internal selection at the Maple Forest City academy, he had defeated Fang Heling with this very move; it seemed history was about to repeat itself.

But to the surprise of both Jiang Wang and the audience, the Sanshan cultivator did not dodge!

He didn't move at all, staring directly at the incoming sword, his hands remaining steady as his Daoist seals took shape under that very gaze.

In such a situation, he should have either abandoned his seals to dodge or simply conceded. Given the speed Jiang Wang had displayed, if he dodged, he would have even less chance to strike back against the next Daoist art.

Yet, he made a choice diametrically opposed to Fang Heling's!

Earth-elemental essence gathered frantically. Jiang Wang felt a surge of power erupting from beneath the ground; he knew exactly what it was.

He was confident enough to pierce his opponent's heart with a single thrust before the earth spikes arrived, but his own feet would inevitably be impaled by the rising spikes immediately after.

Trading an injury for a kill—he would still win. But he didn't want to win that way.

Jiang Wang spun his longsword, grazing the erupting earth spikes just as they broke the surface, using the momentum to flip backward and return to his original position.

Only then did the dense, sharp earth spikes fully carpet the area surrounding the Sanshan cultivator.

This cultivator from Sanshan City, a man disparagingly called a "Mountain Savage," had just bought himself a chance at survival with his life.

He immediately unleashed several kicks, snapping and kicking away the earth spikes in front of him. The spikes flew like javelins, whistling toward Jiang Wang in succession.

The Sanshan cultivator charged toward Jiang Wang, following closely behind the whistling spikes.

Under Jiang An'an's nervous gaze, Jiang Wang turned like the wind, drifting weightlessly through the cluster of incoming spikes, completely unscathed.

The Sanshan cultivator was now close.

His short, stocky body leaped high into the air, his fist gradually turning to stone, swelling into a massive fist the size of a small hill.

Stone-Covered Fist!

The tide of offense and defense reversed!

He couldn't take it head-on. Jiang Wang held his sword horizontally in front of him, meeting the stone fist with the flat of his blade, hoping to use the momentum to drift away and seek another opening.

Regardless, a Foundation Establishment cultivator had limited Daoist essence and could not perform too many arts. As long as he could stall, his swordsmanship would guarantee victory.

But that stone fist suddenly pivoted, grabbing Jiang Wang's sword in its grasp and crushing it!

The Stone-Covered Fist was merely a high-grade Ding-rank Daoist art; though Jiang Wang had not mastered it, he was very familiar with it. He had never expected this technique to possess such fluid variations!

In the emergency, Jiang Wang discarded the hilt and grabbed the stone fist that had crushed his sword with both hands, spinning with all his might.

The immense physical strength brought by the "Four Spirits Body Refining Technique" was poured in without reservation. As he spun, shards of stone flew everywhere.

Jiang Wang tapped his toes against the ground, retreating rapidly in a backward posture. Simultaneously, he avoided the stone fist as it suddenly exploded!

As Jiang Wang destroyed the stone fist, the Sanshan cultivator had simply chosen to detonate it as another method of attack. He hadn't expected Jiang Wang's reaction to be so sharp, allowing him to evade in the first instant.

The explosion of the stone fist was not without impact; despite his efforts to control it, Jiang Wang's entire right arm was covered in wounds and dripping with blood.

Yet, as if unable to feel pain, he said nothing and pursued Jiang Wang directly.

He no longer attempted hand seals, nor did he have time to use Daoist arts. Or rather, he realized that with the arts he currently mastered, he could not defeat his opponent.

So, he would test his mountain-climbing physique and his tiger-slaying strikes.

Elbow strikes, knee strikes, headbutts!

Jiang Wang had no way to create distance anymore; he had lost his sword, and his swordsmanship had nothing to manifest.

Punches, kicks, shoulder checks!

The two engaged in brutal, close-quarters combat!

In that tiny space, it was the most intense, the most direct, and the most savage!

Among the spectators, there were many mundane martial artists with some level of skill, and they all erupted into a frenzy!