Chapter Eighty-Eight: A Defeat in the First Round

Mu Yang’s family name in ordinary life was Xu; the character for his generation was Mu, and the character Yang had been bestowed by his master.

Seeing Yuan Tingyu nod, Xu Muyang sprang directly onto the arena. “Infinite Lord of Heaven, this disciple bows.” He gave Kono a formal salute, then drew his sword and leveled the point straight at him.

Kono used a Japanese saber, somewhat like the swords of this country: long and narrow, with a hilt meant to be gripped with both hands, a design that gave its slashes greater force.

Kono first bowed to Xu Muyang and uttered a phrase in Japanese, then drew the blade at his waist.

The moment Kono drew his saber, Xu Muyang wasted no words. His treasured sword thrust straight toward Kono.

Instead of retreating, Kono advanced, meeting the thrust with a downward slash. He favored a fierce and direct style, relying on defense as offense. Xu Muyang had not expected him to be so calculating, and could only withdraw his sword and evade.

At that moment, Zhou Yi was still in meditation. As Baozi entered the door, he said, “They’re fighting outside already. How can you still be sitting here in meditation? Come with me at once. The chief priest sent me to fetch you.”

Zhou Yi drew his spiritual energy back into his dantian and opened his eyes. “Let’s go.” With that, he rose, went out, and headed straight for the arena.

When he arrived, he nodded to Yuan Tingyu in greeting and was about to sit to one side, but Yuan Tingyu motioned for him to sit beside him. Zhou Yi could not politely refuse, and took the seat to Yuan Tingyu’s right.

“Daoist Zhou, who do you think will prevail in the ring?” Yuan Tingyu asked.

By then Xu Muyang’s assault had become relentless, and Kono was forced onto the defensive, occasionally swinging a saber strike that Xu Muyang dispelled with ease.

Zhou Yi’s brow furrowed slightly. Kono’s defense was steady and orderly; even while parrying, he could still strike back at Xu Muyang.

Xu Muyang, after such a prolonged offense, would surely have his spiritual energy thrown into disorder. If he could not break through soon, impatience would be inevitable.

“What does Daoist Zhou’s frown mean?” Yuan Tingyu asked, catching every trace of expression on Zhou Yi’s face.

“What does Daoist Yuan think?” Zhou Yi feared that stating his own judgment would displease Yuan Tingyu, so he replied with another question.

“My disciple is a little too eager for profit. The man from the East should be on the counterattack soon.” Yuan Tingyu very much wanted to win the first match to lift morale, but Xu Muyang was simply inferior; defeat was unavoidable.

In the ring, the two had already exchanged several rounds, and each had a clear sense of the other’s strength. Xu Muyang launched a pressing strike, forcing Kono to withdraw. He then drew a Firecloud Talismans from his robe and pinched it between his fingers, murmuring an incantation. The talisman transformed into a blazing mass of fire and shot straight for Kono.

Kono had no choice but to retreat sharply, yet he was already at the edge of the platform; another step back and he would fall.

Seeing this, Yuan Tingyu could not help but smile. In his view, Xu Muyang’s use of the Firecloud Talismans was commendable, and it seemed likely to decide the match with a single talisman.

Who would have thought that when Kono reached the edge of the platform, he would reach into his robe, draw out a thumb-sized white sphere, and hurl it to the ground. Smoke instantly billowed up around him; when it cleared, Kono was gone from the platform.

“Eastern stealth art!” Zhou Yi had only heard of a means of escape in the East called ninjutsu, but had never seen it. Now that Kono had used it before his eyes, he could not help blurting it out.

“Indeed, Eastern ninjutsu. In Japan they are called ninjas, and their status there is extremely high,” Yuan Tingyu interjected.

“Can Daoist Yuan tell where Kono is now?” This Eastern stealth art was truly remarkable. Under the blazing midday sun, there was not a trace of Kono to be seen on the arena.

Yuan Tingyu did not answer. A trace of solemnity flashed across his face, because he could see that Kono had already moved behind Xu Muyang. Unfortunately, with everyone watching, he could not speak to warn him.

Xu Muyang turned in a circle, still unable to find Kono’s shadow, then closed his eyes and held his breath. He meant to judge Kono’s location from the latter’s breathing and footsteps.

Seeing Xu Muyang stand motionless, Kono raised his saber and brought it down toward the back of Xu Muyang’s head. Among the disciples of Mount Mao, only Yuan Tingyu and two elders who had survived heavenly tribulation could faintly make out Kono’s ghostly outline. Seeing this, they could not help shouting, “Muyang, be careful!”

At that cry, Xu Muyang spun around at once, reversed his sword, and thrust straight backward. Seeing the sword coming, Kono knew that if he pressed on, both would likely be injured, and so he withdrew and evaded, seeking another opening.

“Isn’t what the elder of Mount Mao is doing somewhat improper?” said Nagakawa Inashita. His expression did not change, but his words were neither servile nor overbearing.

Yuan Tingyu knew his side was in the wrong and could only rise and say, “Blessings from the Infinite Lord of Heaven. My Mount Mao has lost the first round. Muyang, withdraw.”

Hearing Yuan Tingyu admit defeat, Xu Muyang widened his eyes. “Master, I didn’t lose.”

Yuan Tingyu was not angered. He only smiled faintly. “My junior brother is overprotective of his disciple. Please forgive the offense, sir. Mount Mao concedes the first round.”

Just as Yuan Tingyu finished speaking, Kono once again circled behind Xu Muyang and raised both hands to bring the saber down upon him. That Kono was truly despicable; after the concession had already been spoken, he still meant to strike Xu Muyang so viciously.

Yuan Tingyu’s face turned cold. Without another word, he flipped his wrist and sent a golden needle flying straight at Kono.

The needle carried Yuan Tingyu’s wrath and spiritual force. Before Kono’s blade could fall, the needle arrived first and pierced his temple.

Kono’s saber froze less than three inches above Xu Muyang’s head and could descend no further. His body toppled stiffly backward.

Seeing this, Nagakawa Inashita sprang to his feet and slapped the table. “Why did Daoist Yuan use a concealed weapon to injure a warrior of Great Japan?”

Yuan Tingyu gave a cold snort, then pointed at Kono’s corpse. “My Mount Mao had already conceded. Why did he still try to take my disciple’s life? Even in death, he got what he deserved. He has no one to blame but himself.”

The surrounding common folk could not see Kono’s figure after he vanished, and naturally they could not see the golden needle Yuan Tingyu had launched.

The fact before their eyes was this: when Kono reappeared, he was about to hack at Xu Muyang, and before that, Yuan Tingyu had already declared defeat.

“Serves him right for dying. Serves him right,” the crowd shouted.

Nagakawa Inashita’s face darkened. With a wave of his hand, two men behind him went up to the platform and carried Kono’s body away. Though they had won a round, a man had died; this bitter loss could only be swallowed in silence.

“Please have a disciple of Mount Mao take the stage for the next match,” Nagakawa Inashita said. By rights, he should not have been the one to say this, but among the Japanese present, only he could speak fluent Chinese.

Yuan Tingyu was somewhat troubled. Since they had already lost one round, the choice of disciple for the second match had to be made with great care.

“Master, this disciple is willing to take the second round,” said a voice. Yuan Tingyu turned and saw that it was Mu Chen.

Mu Chen had reached the peak of the Blue Qi stage and ought to have been saved for the end, but if he were not sent, none of the other disciples could guarantee victory. For a moment, Yuan Tingyu was also at a loss.

“The eldest brother can finish the matter at the end. Master, let me go first,” said Yuan Tingyu’s second disciple, Li Mufeng, whose cultivation was on par with Mu Chen’s. With Li Mufeng taking the second match, there should be no problem.

Yuan Tingyu nodded slightly. “Mufeng, be careful.”

Li Mufeng bowed deeply to Yuan Tingyu and said solemnly, “Rest assured, Master. This disciple will certainly take that man from the East’s head.”