Chapter 183 (I): A Spectacular Duel

It would be even more strange for an elite of the Taiyi Sect not to have a yin corpse.

Zhang Yuanqing's gaze didn't settle on Warlock first, but on the towering figure standing behind him. As a Nocturnal Specter, he could tell at a glance that it was a yin corpse.

The creature wore loose, long-sleeved clothing. Its wrists were wrapped in silver rings, segment after segment of gleaming metal that covered both its forearms. It was impossible to tell what class it had been in life.

He shifted his attention to the young man who was his opponent. He was pale and slender, lacking any roughness or edge. He wore a black shirt and black trousers, with leg guards woven out of vines strapped to his shins.

The slender youth gazed back at him across the arena, wearing a polite, well-mannered smile. "Yuanshi Tianzun, I've heard so much about you! Every time I hear that name, I can't help thinking of the phrase 'Elder Sun has gone senile.' It's like an instinct at this point. I've been completely brainwashed."

Laughter erupted across the spectator stands.

Elder Sun turned his head and swept his gaze, cold and merciless, over the disciples seated behind him. The Taiyi Sect members fell silent in unison, heads bowed, struggling to contain their grins.

Your name's pretty memorable too, Zhang Yuanqing thought.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted toward the elders' seats, "Elder Sun! This kid's calling you senile! Want me to beat him up for you?"

The laughter grew even louder. The meme was practically legendary at this point, having circulated widely through official channels from the Five Elements Alliance to the Taiyi Sect. Anyone who spent time online knew it. Hearing the people involved riff on it in person brought the comedy to a whole new level.

Elder Sun's face darkened. He said nothing.

Elder Hongying glanced at Elder Teddy in surprise. "This kid's got some spirit."

She rarely saw anyone banter so freely with an elder. Maoshan Warlock hadn't even dared to look back when he'd made his joke. But Yuanshi Tianzun? He'd gone and shouted directly at Old Sun.

Elder Teddy snorted. "That's because you haven't seen him drop to his knees and kowtow."

***

On the arena floor, Maoshan Warlock spoke again. "So you really don't have a yin corpse. The ranking notes say your overall strength is impressive, especially when it comes to clearing dungeons. But I suppose you rely mostly on your items when it comes to combat?"

"No," Zhang Yuanqing replied, his voice low and steady. "I never rely on items. What I rely on is an unyielding will and an unshakable conviction in victory."

While the two exchanged words, the audience buzzed with discussion.

"Yuanshi Tianzun doesn't have a yin corpse? I heard that a Nocturnal Specter without a yin corpse and a spirit servant is an incomplete Nocturnal Specter."

"That's right. It's like a Fire Sage without a temper, a Wood Demon without regeneration, or a Scout without perception. The yin corpse and spirit servant are essential tools for a Nocturnal Specter in combat."

"Oh, so that's why he's ranked eleventh on the top twenty list. I thought the Scholars were just underestimating him."

"Doesn't that mean Yuanshi Tianzun has to fight one against two? Competitors aren't allowed to use their strongest items in the tournament. This is bad. He's the Five Elements Alliance's star player. If a Taiyi Sect Nocturnal Specter climbs over him, we'll never live it down."

"He won't necessarily lose. Someone who's cleared two S-rank dungeons and a high-difficulty A-rank dungeon, and killed Li Xianzong, isn't going to go down that easily. Just watch."

***

In the Taiyi Sect section, Yuan Ting let out a sigh. "Yuanshi became a Spirit Realm Walker too recently. He lacks depth. He probably doesn't even have a spirit servant. At least, I haven't heard of him having one."

Sun Miaomiao's brow furrowed. "If he can't even beat Maoshan Warlock, then I might never get to face him."

And if she never faced him, how was she supposed to beat him and get Little Red from her grandfather as a reward?

A few seats away, Zhao Chenghuang said in a flat, detached tone, "That's why he's ranked eleventh, and Maoshan Warlock is ninth."

***

Bill Tarantino, who had entered the dungeon as a member of a friendly organization to observe the Tournament, suddenly turned to Annie beside him. "I recall that when Demon Lord was Level 5, he relied on raw combat ability to defeat a Level 6 Heaven's Punisher."

Annie nodded. "He did. By that point, he'd already gotten involved with Betty, but he was deeply wary of the Aphrodite Society. No matter how Betty tried to lure him away, he refused to leave the country or to meet the president. So the president sent one of Betty's former lovers to pick a fight with him under the guise of a jealous rival, intending to drag him back by force. That fool lost in spectacular fashion."

Bill gave a measured nod and turned his gaze to Yuanshi Tianzun on the arena floor. "Fighting against someone above your level is extraordinarily difficult, whether at the Saint tier or the Transcendent tier. Anyone who can pull it off is exceptional. Yuanshi Tianzun lacks depth. He's at a disadvantage against Maoshan Warlock. But this is exactly the moment to test his potential. If you think he could be a second Demon Lord, this is your chance to find out."

Annie nodded slowly. "That's what I was thinking."

Almost immediately, she shook her head, correcting herself. "I don't see him as a second Demon Lord. But I think he could replace Demon Lord as the Nocturnal Specter the Aphrodite Society can cultivate and invest in. The president once said that the Taiyi Sect Master rated the Demon Lord as the most promising Nocturnal Specter in thirty years. A prodigy like that won't appear a second time in decades."

Bill smiled. "Then let's wait and see."

***

In the southwestern spectator section, Fu Qingyang sat in his white suit, looking on with razor-sharp focus, his full attention on the arena floor.

"Boss, are you nervous?" asked someone nearby. "Worried Yuanshi Tianzun's gonna lose?"

The speaker was a young man with the aesthetic of a punk aristocrat. A voluminous, permed head of yellow hair framed his lean face. His eyes were defiant and his bearing irreverent, which perfectly fit the "noble" image he cultivated.

In the White Tiger Guard, only Shichiro called Fu Qingyang "boss" instead of "Guild Leader."

Fu Qingyang ignored him. The woman beside him, who had her hair pulled back in a ponytail, spoke up instead.

"Yuanshi Tianzun's pretty handsome. Ling Jun's always calling him a lecher in the group chat. I was expecting some greasy little creep."

"That's just stereotyping," Shichiro scoffed. "Isn't Ling Jun a lecher as well? Does he look creepy?"

The ponytailed woman was Phoenix Descending of the White Tiger Guard. She had a clean, pretty oval face and wheat-colored skin. She carried herself simply and radiated an air of competence like a well-trained police officer.

She ignored Shichiro and turned to study Fu Qingyang's impossibly handsome profile. "Guild Leader, Yuanshi Tianzun doesn't have a yin corpse, and the tournament rules restrict the use of powerful items. He's also the first White Tiger Guard member to compete. If he loses, it could set a bad precedent."

"He won't lose." Fu Qingyang's tone was light but full of certainty. "Yuanshi is the type who rises to meet the challenge. The stronger the enemy, the greater the potential he unlocks. If anything, I hope Maoshan Warlock can put some real pressure on him."

The Guild Leader rates Yuanshi Tianzun that highly, huh. Phoenix Descending raised an eyebrow but said nothing more, instead turning her attention to the match.

Shichiro muttered sourly, "You like him that much, boss? I'm hurt..."

***

On the arena floor, Zhang Yuanqing's mind was racing. Drawing on the intel he'd squeezed out of Wang Tai, he rapidly assembled a battle plan.

I can't use the Red Dancing Shoes or the Yin Yang Spell Robe too early. If I show all my cards against Maoshan Warlock, I'll get hard countered in every fight after this, and winning the championship would be impossible.

The Demon-subduing Awl's purification effect could suppress a yin corpse, and perhaps even destroy one. But the item channels the Power of the Diurnal Spirit. It is too high-tiered an item. Using it outright would get me disqualified.That's just how these tournaments work, though. There are too many second-generation Walkers. Without restrictions, it would just come down to who had the richer parents.

Right now, everyone thinks I have no spirit servant and no yin corpse. That's an opportunity. Show weakness. Let Maoshan Warlock get comfortable, then use expendable items to gradually force out his tricks. Once he's spent everything, I'll send in Corpse No. 1 and Little Goofball to blindside him.

But the real question is whether I can survive everything he throws at me while relying only on disposable items. If I can't hold out and get taken down, I'll have played myself.

At that moment, the armored swordsman's voice boomed across the arena. "Ten minutes are up. The match begins!"

"Wait," Zhang Yuanqing called out as he looked at the slender youth with a perfectly earnest expression. "Elder Sun is waving at you. It looks like he wants to say something."

Maoshan Warlock blinked, startled. He'd been bold enough to poke fun at Elder Sun in front of everyone earlier on, but a sudden thought struck him like a jolt. That petty old man...

He whipped his head around to look.

"You idiot!" Elder Sun thundered furiously from the elders' seats.

The words had barely landed when Maoshan Warlock heard the crack of a gunshot.

Clink! Clink!

A towering figure blurred into motion, planting itself in front of its master. The yin corpse crossed its arms, catching the bullet's trajectory dead on. The silver rings along its forearms erupted in a shower of sparks, and the impact of the blow caused its entire frame to shudder.

Maoshan Warlock spun back around, cold sweat soaking through his clothes. He glared at Yuanshi Tianzun.

"Despicable! You know you're outmatched, so you throw away all dignity and resort to cheap shots? You'd abandon every shred of honor just to win?"

If his yin corpse hadn't possessed enough intelligence to shield him on instinct, he would have been caught off guard in the most humiliating way possible.

With thousands of eyes watching, Zhang Yuanqing wasn't about to let anyone splash mud on his name.

"War is deception," he retorted at full volume. "Trickery is a part of strategy. You're a veteran Spirit Realm Walker. Drop the innocent act. You're only outraged because I got the jump on you instead of the other way around. Oh, and that righteous indignation? That's a tactic too. You're just trying to paint me as shameless."

His mouth stayed busy, but so did his hands. He kept moving, shifting angles, pulling the trigger again and again. The Eye of the Observer sat snug on his face, ensuring every shot found its mark. Streaks of crimson fire poured toward the warlock and his yin corpse.

Maoshan Warlock threw himself into a roll and vanished. Bullets hammered into the ground, blasting shallow craters where he'd stood.

Zhang Yuanqing scanned the arena, searching for any trace. He fired one shot in each direction, probing.

All four missed. The warlock hadn't tried to close the distance for a sneak attack.

The yin corpse moved. It gripped its wrists in opposite hands and pulled. One by one, the silver rings flew off its forearms, leaving a single ring on each. There were eighteen rings in total.

Hummm!

A powerful magnetic resonance thrummed between the rings as they floated into the air, vibrating with an ominous hum.

The yin corpse threw both fists forward. Propelled by invisible magnetic force, the eighteen silver rings hurtled toward Zhang Yuanqing in a devastating wave, trailing shrill screams of displaced air.

Zhang Yuanqing coiled his legs beneath him and threw himself sideways, rolling again and again. Magnetism? What class uses items like that?

He heard a succession of heavy impacts behind him that sprayed stone fragments in every direction. The destructive force of those rings dwarfed anything the Burst Pistol could manage.

He stopped rolling and sprang to his feet, only to feel a chill crawl up his spine. A short, gleaming blade slid out of empty air behind him, steady and swift, driving toward the center of his back.

Zhang Yuanqing tossed the Burst Pistol skyward, and a pair of gauntlets appeared on his fists, seemingly from nowhere. He didn't dodge or flinch, but brought both fists together against his chest.

BOOM!