Chương 8: The Day Has Come.(2)
After several more battles took place, it was finally Number 800's time to fight again. And this time, he was battling a familiar foe.
"Number 800! Number 109! Come up to the stage!"
Jumping from the stands to the stage, Number 800 leaned his longsword leisurely across his shoulder, waiting for his opponent to arrive.
Number 109 slowly walked up on the other side of the stage, immediately drawing his sword, calmly holding it to his side.
"Draw your sword, 800. Do not underestimate me."
Number 800 smiled as he heard this.
"It's funny that you say that. I was just thinking that you overestimate yourself."
WHOOSH!
Number 109 immediately charged at his opponent, the two clashing swords multiple times within a second.
Going on the offensive, Number 800 parried his opponents sword arts with ease and started attacking with incredible speed, increasing the tempo of the battle dramatically.
'What the-? How is he so fast?! It feels as if he has ten arms...all of them slashing from different directions! And that bastard still has his sword sheathed!'
Number 109 was at his wits end trying to defend himself from every direction. Within moments, his defense crumbled into nothing as Number 800 suddenly appeared behind him, his expression filled with complete focus.
"Ashina Cross."
Two almost imperceptible sword slashes assailed Number 109's body, blowing him off the arena with a cross shaped wound embedded across his entire body.
"As a fellow swordsman, I won't kill you. Cherish this chance and keep training hard, 109."
Walking off the stage, Number 800 calmly sat on the stands, closing his eyes to reflect on the fight.
Beginning with the fight between 109 and 800, they were finally at the Demonic General level fights.
Only a few contestants remained.
The next fight was Number 900 vs. Number 1.
The battle ensued but contrary to the onlookers expectations, Number 1 lost miserably. Number 900 proceeded to the next round.
"Number 800! Number 17! Proceed to the stage and begin when ready!"
Number 800 silently jumped up on the stage and slowly drew his sword, holding it to the side.
A nervous smile appeared on Number 17's face as she walked on stage, drawing her sword.
"You can't run away this time, 17."
Rubbing the back of her head sheepishly, she replied, "Hehe, let's try to have some fun, yeah?"
WHOOSH! CLANG!
This time, Number 800 was the one who engaged first. Clashing blades immediately, the two engage in a heated exchange of steel against steel.
"Ichimonji."
WHOOSH!
Number 17 barely managed to avoid the slash, glancing back to see the stage itself split from the wind of the attack.
Using this chance to counter, Number 17 thrusted her sword multiple times at her opponent, hoping that he would be overwhelmed by the onslaught.
"Too slow!"
Number 800 instantly parried all of her thrusts with his sheathe, sweeping her off of her feet in retaliation.
"Ichimonji."
Her eyes widened as she looked at Number 800's sword coming down in slow motion. She was defenseless mid-air and the sword was aimed directly at her waist.
'If this attack hits...I'm dead! I have to use it!'
A black and red cloud of Qi suddenly erupted from her body, blowing Number 800 back, almost to the edge of the arena.
"Tch. What is this?"
Holding her sword in her hands, Number 17 had a confident smile on her face as the black and red Qi covered her body.
When Number 800 looked at this, he felt some sort of familiarity with his own cultivation technique...but he could tell that this was a stronger version of it.
'Perhaps...the original technique! How did she get her hands on that?'
Number 800's blood started to boil as he started to realize this. He knew that if he didn't actually try now, he could actually lose.
"Heh...I guess my physical ability can only get me so far."
BOOM!
Number 800's Qi exploded out of his body, incinerating the stage around him from the overwhelming heat.
The leader's jaw dropped as he saw this scene, dumbfounded by this revelation.
'He's pushed our cultivation technique to an incredible level! Even I didn't know it was capable of this! How much training did this one put himself through to achieve this?'
Number 800 and Number 17 clashed weapons once again, their overwhelming Qi blowing the weaker students back with ease.
After a few clashes, something started to become apparent.
'Her body can't keep up with her technique. Her swordsmanship is also lacking. This is...'
Slashing her multiple times in less than a second, Number 800 kicked her away and threw his sheathe directly at her with all his might, impaling her through her shoulder upon the valley walls.
"Urgh!!"
Immediately deactivating her technique, Number 17 coughed out a mouthful of blood, gasping for breath from the amount of pain she was feeling at once.
In a flash, Number 800 appeared in front of her and pulled his sheathe out of her shoulder, watching her closely as she fell to her knees.
Placing his sword by her neck, Number 800 calmly said, "How disappointing. Do you surrender?"
A wry smile appeared across her face as she clutched her shoulder.
"You win, sword maniac. You're way too good for your age."
Hearing this, the instructors quickly got her off the stage and announced Number 800's win.
"Number 900! Come up to the stage!"
Number 900 immediately jumped up from the stands with a flip and attacked Number 800 as he flew into the arena.
"The day has come, Number 800."
The battle had already started.
Everyone was in suspense as they watched the finals, no one knowing who would win this battle.
'His spear arts are incredible. No wonder he was uncontested so far.'
Number 800 was in awe as he fought his opponent, wondering how someone at the age of 20 could have such masterful spearmanship.
Number 900 was the same.
As they exchanged blows, his excitement and respect for Number 800's swordsmanship increased by the second.
BOOM! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Releasing their Qi's, the two warriors fought with overwhelming speed and power, destroying the arena with every clash.
Suddenly, what seemed to be a large red moon appeared in front of Number 800's face, instantly covering his vision.
'Art of Six Seals And Destruction, The Moon Of Death And Dark Night.'
Seeing the innumerable powerful spear thrusts that were coming with this attack, Number 800 quickly responded with his own martial art, causing afterimages to appear on his sword as he pointed it skyward above his head.
'Thousand Sage Flash Sword!'
BOOM!
Bringing his sword down, his Qi transformed into an innumerable amount of sword like projectiles that clashed with Number 900's thrusts, the ensuing explosion annihilation the arena.
"Everyone, defend yourselves as much as possible!"
The instructors surrounded the remains of the arena and used their Qi to deflect any stray attacks that would hit the rest of the students.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Within the smoke, the sounds of metal clashing could be heard, the two still fighting hard despite their injuries from the last martial art clash.
BOOM! BOOM!
With their excitement reaching through the roof, the two warriors took off their iron bracers and clashed once again, the two upping the ante of the fight by another level.
'Flying Flash, Shredding Wheel!'
Number 800 performed a whirlwind of slashes upon Number 900's body, forcing him to block with his spear.
'That sword style is so fast!'
But there was only so much he could defend against. The style was called Flying Flash for a reason.
The speed of swordsman who mastered the style was unmatched.
Number 900 knew that he had to get away from his opponents ensuing onslaught and break his momentum before this situation got even worse.
'Art Of Six Seals And Destruction...'
Finding a gap within the onslaught to use his martial art, Number 900 started thrusting his spear rapidly, activating his-
WHOOSH!
"I found it. The crux of your martial art. The weakness of your technique."
Number 800 used the Mikiri Counter, stomping Number 900's spear to the ground, stopping it's movement entirely as he placed his cold blade upon the latter's neck.
"Accept defeat, 900."
Number 900 knew that if this was a fight in the outside world, his opponent would've killed him. He knew...but he didn't want to accept it.
'If the instructors weren't around...I could use the martial arts of the spear master sect! Dammit!'
Internally debating his decision with himself, Number 900 gritted his teeth as he hesitantly accepted defeat.
'I need to train harder, I can't let this end here!'
The leader himself appeared between them and laid his hand upon both of their shoulders, saying, "You two have reached an unprecedented level at such a young age. 900, make sure you keep training. It was a close fight. 800, you exceeded my expectations. It was a great battle."
Sheathing his sword, Number 800 strapped it upon the waist of his tattered pants and replied, "I still have a long way to go."
The leader nodded in agreement. His expectations for Number 800 had increased drastically.
"The winner of the third stage of life and death! Number 800!"
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