Year 663 of the Stable Era,

Twenty-second day of the eleventh month

Well into the 5th Inner Hour

Round 3 was a rough fight, but Chao Ren managed to pull through it in the end.

His opponent had been a disciple from the Iron Plate Sect, who had made it through the previous rounds entirely unscathed. This feat was due in no small part to the sect's unique style of martial arts, which was built around their namesake plates.

Each arm had borne a thick shield, the dull gray metal decorated with a smattering of rivets and the thick character for iron raised in its center. Twice the length of his forearm and almost two feet wide, they tapered off into a dangerously sharp point on one end and a thick, anvil-like edge on the other.

They were as much weapons as they were tools for defense, a fact that Chao Ren's battered body could more than attest to. Between the shields, their helmet, and their long kai jia coat they had been fighting under a significant weight, the metal of their armor clinking like coins with every strike. Everything save their shields had been forged from mortal metals, of course, to avoid running afoul of the tournament's restrictions on equipment, but even that had been enough to pose a serious threat.

Each blow had threatened to snap Chao Ren's staff if he met them head on, the difference in materials only exacerbated by the qi suffused into each strike. Metal embodied the destruction of wood within the elements' cycle, and while his staff had begun to accept his qi it was still unable to escape its nature. In the face of such a predicament he had been forced onto the evasive, playing to the two strengths he had left—his superior reach and agility.

While his opponent had a clear focus on body cultivation, they were still both Refining stage cultivators, so their stamina was far from boundless. After their first exchange Chao Ren had forced his opponent to stay on the defensive by focusing his attacks on their comparatively unarmored legs.

Each strike had aimed to trip or unbalance, forcing them to waste more and more of their energy on their footwork. He'd made them jump and dodge, all the while forcing himself away from each hammering blow. Tiring them out with each exchange, all the while knowing that he couldn't afford to take any more hits. Even a glancing blow was enough to make his bones ache, and he thanked his ancestors that he'd listened to Min Huan when he'd insisted that it was just as important to practice getting hit as it was to practice avoiding it.

He'd ended up taking a heavy hit to his chest when his opponent had surprised him by throwing one of their shields at him while attempting to grab his staff. The move had almost cracked his ribs, but it had also proved to be precisely the opportunity he had needed to clinch victory.

Rather than attempt to outmuscle a body cultivator he had feigned force, putting his all into opposing only the first tug. He had released his staff on the second, his opponent falling as the full force of their mighty heave was met with no further resistance.

Taking advantage of the moment he'd swept their legs out from under them, mounting them the second they hit the ground. He'd pinned their arms to the ground with his knees, wrenching down their faceguard as he rained punch after punch through the exposed gap in their helmet, only stopping when the referee halted his arms as his opponent's head hit the ground with a crunch.

He'd retrieved his staff from his opponent's limp hand as their sect mates took to the field, attempting to feed them a recovery pill of some sort as the referee yelled at them to get them out of there first. With a great effort he managed to keep his expression neutral as he arrived at yet another waiting room.

It was far more quiet than before, his fellow contestants whittled down to a bare handful now. They regarded him with wary eyes when he entered, each shifting their robes to better conceal their respective wounds. He did the same as he took a seat in the one empty corner, disguising the twinge of pain that ran up his side from sitting with a casual yawn to project indifference.

This time his self-evaluation took longer. His ribs, legs, and forearm were all heavily bruised, but thankfully unbroken. He paid extra attention to each, to make sure that he didn't allow a fracture to slip his notice. His legs were also fatigued from all of his rapid movements, so he made sure to focus his qi through them as he once again settled into his meditation.

The time between rounds was shorter now, and as the remaining contestants shrank as the crowd grew. He barely had the time to finish the chapter on the properties of the five elements before his match was called. Fortunately he was match 3 this round, narrowly avoiding the last inauspicious match number to remain. He slipped into the now-familiar ritual of calming himself as he stepped towards the ring, the words of his fellow disciples ebbing in like the tides.

Don't be afraid of risks, only recklessness.

Remember that you can always just try hitting them harder.

Never become married to one stance. Remain flexible.

Above all remain calm. Restlessness only gives your opponent more information than they should have.

That last nugget of wisdom of advice from Bao ended up being the hardest to follow, as Chao Ren's composure almost slipped the second he caught sight of his opponent. They were a looming ant guai, the unfamiliar sensation oddly unsettling given his own height.

He was a few inches above six feet himself, a height that put him just above most other cultivators of his age. The guai had more than three full heads on him, putting him somewhere just shy of eight feet of gleaming black chitin. Their thin frame was covered in the speckled robes of the Great Dessert Walkers, the familiar off-white covered in splashes of pink and green.

The design of the pastel shades was meant to resemble falling leaves, but they'd always looked more like confetti to Chao Ren. Mostly because of the way that the sharp geometric lean of their forms was such a departure from nature's smooth organic curves.

He shook off his thoughts about the pattern as two pairs of hands clasped in a martial salute, his opponent's antennae twitching down to match their bow. He forced himself back to the present as he returned the gesture, mind already racing about the fight.

Four hands, with no signs of weapons. A dangerous prospect for his staff, as it meant that there was a higher risk of having to deal with an attempt to grapple for control of it.

Their exoskeleton would be a threat as well. Its hardness would allow it to serve the same purpose as his last opponent's armor, especially if they had been strengthening it with a body cultivation method.

Their name as well...he hadn't managed to catch it, but it had sounded androgynous. Which meant that he had no clue if they were male or female. He made a note to keep on the lookout for slits on the back of their robe. Male ant guai often had wings, which could prove to be a nearly insurmountable challenge to overcome, as flying techniques were impossible to master at the Refining stage.

He clenched his staff as the two began to circle, making sure to keep an extra half-step of space between them to account for their arm span. The first moments passed in silence, save for the sound of their footsteps, the growing crowd a pantomime of excitement behind the arena's barrier.

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Chao Ren feinted a strike, to gauge his opponent's reaction. One arm sprang up in a block while another snatched at it, and he yanked it back before either could make contact. So, they were a martial artist then.

Or at the very least a cultivator that was somewhat confident with their fists. He couldn't discount that. His first round opponent had opened up with a spear, even if he had eventually abandoned it in a rash attempt to hit Chao Ren with a poorly aimed barrage of fireballs.

He feinted another strike, this time with the intent of a follow-up attack while his opponent's guard was distracted, only for the ant guai to take the initiative from him. They sidestepped the false strike with almost casual ease, their feet gliding against the rough stone of the arena with preternatural grace. They moved in faster than their steps should have allowed, sliding under his guard in a blink.

A movement technique!

Chao Ren barely had a moment to bring his staff down in a block before they struck, five punches landing on his side in rapid succession before they dodged out of the way of his reaction. He lashed out with a wide blow to retaliate. Low, so to avoid their guard.

The guai simply skipped back from it, their antenna jittering in an almost mocking manner as their easy steps slid them out of range of his swipe. Chao Ren coughed as he caught his breath, wincing at the pain.

Their blows had been hard and heavy, almost clublike in their force. He'd need to—his thoughts were cut short as the ant attacked again, catching him off guard as he attempted to recover. This time he blocked the first two punches before they slipped to the side again, weaving wide as they landed two blows on his left thigh before darting away again.

Chao Ren struck out wide as well, trying to anticipate how much extra distance their technique allowed them to cover, only to hit empty air as the guai stopped using their technique for a step. The edge of his staff barely grazed their robe as they struck his chest with two palms, knocking him back across the arena.

He felt the air leave his lungs as Bailong Shen's words rushed back to him.

Breathing is important for your qi, but don't forget your reserves. You can borrow a breath or two in a pinch, and that can buy you all the opportunity you need.

His staff shot back to stop his fall, propping him up like a tripod before he used a surge of qi to push himself into a charge. The reversal shocked his opponent, who barely managed to stop themselves before they ran into his counter-thrust. The guai spun, and Chao Ren caught sight of the unblemished back to their robe before their sleeves flared upwards, blocking his vision.

He leapt back rather than pursue the attack, just as a kick whipped through where his head had been a moment ago. He ducked a second kick, attempting another thrust before immediately reversing his decision, pulling his staff back just before the waiting hands could grab it.

Fuck!

They were fast.

Almost too fast.

And good with their technique too, which made it an entirely different fight. Unlike his previous opponents who had been amateurs, the ant guai was clearly well-practiced. Their technique wasn't big or flashy, but it was polished. A part of their cultivation that perfectly complemented their martial arts.

Chao Ren pumped more qi into his muscles as he pushed himself to move faster and faster. Not enough to tap out his reserves, but enough that he was burning through most of what he was taking in to try and keep up. But their movement technique was an advantage that was poorly matched by simple enhancement.

The ant's technique meant that he had to take at least two steps to match one of theirs, and their staggered use of it meant that he could overstep while trying to match them, exposing himself to another devastating flurry. It was an insurmountable gap. Like trying to swat a fly with a house, every attempt to force his opponent to take the defensive met with another casual repositioning.

Their hand advantage also didn't help.

It was impossible to guess which hand would be next, and the mix of open and closed strikes forced him to second guess every block. Even with the full power of his Twin Minds Technique there was almost nothing he could do. No tell to either its four flapping sleeves or its unblinking pupils. Chao Ren lost count of the blows he'd taken after the twentieth, having only managed to score three of his own.

He'd pushed himself to his limit mastering the staff as well as he could these last few years, but the guai had clearly spent their entire life refining their martial arts. Another insurmountable gap.

He needed an edge.

But what?

His minds raced as he caught another blow with his staff, his hands ringing as its qi shook.

What would Shen do?

Or Lee Han?

Think. Think!

That was it—think!

What was he missing?

Maintaining his form?

It was doing what little it could.

Keeping his breathing?

It was still even, despite the ache to each exhalation.

Not overtaxing his qi?

No, he was still somewhat balanced. He'd used some of his reserves to strengthen himself, but without a proper strategy it was meaningless. No sense in futilely pushing himself past his limit.

That was it! he realized, as he managed to land another glancing hit on the guai.

Their limit. They had to be using as much qi as he was with their technique. Even if they didn't show it, there was no way that they were able to sustain it for so long with breathing alone. They had to be tapping their reserves as well, unless…

The staggering, that was part of it. They were using those to build their qi back up, to prevent themselves from ever facing too severe of a deficit. Preventing the toll their technique took from compounding by limiting prolonged use.

Their martial arts were a testament to their experience, which meant that they knew enough to make sure to keep themselves prepared for the next round. A prudent strategy, but one that might just be the opening he needed.

Chao Ren's second mind raced as he dug through the past exchanges. Three, four, three, two, four, three, three, three, four, two, three, four, three, three. Yes, there it was. A maximum of four steps before they mixed another normal step in to trick him with their footwork.

Good for keeping the changes quick, but clearly also a means to prevent their technique from ever consuming too much qi at once. Not a great window, especially if they managed to react in time, but it was his only chance.

Breath hissed through clenched teeth as he borrowed a trick from Lee Han.

He let his speed begin to flag, just by a fraction at first, but then by another. He reduced the qi to his muscles as he took to the defensive, focusing his power on increasing the speed of his internal cycle. Slowly, to prevent his opponent from noticing, he let the elements within himself build to a barely contained flood, their constant transformation further masking the process.

Noticing his apparent weakness, the ant pressed the advantage.

Their blows sped up, stepping further with each strike.

One.

His staff raised to block two blows, his qi singing as it put up the show of resistance.

Two.

There were no more palms now. They no longer cared about disarming, only winning.

Three.

His elbow stung as he blocked a fist with it. The fingers of his right hand went numb from the force, and he forced it to clench to avoid losing his grasp on his staff.

Four.

The guai moved to feign a step early, but Chao Ren forced them into their technique with a stomp towards their forefoot. They slid back from his blow with contemptuous ease, their sleeves flapping as they prepared to strike.

But Chao Ren struck first.

His qi surged as he poured everything into the blow, raw elemental qi streaming from him as his meridians failed to fully contain it. His body twisting like a waterwheel after the dam had burst, every muscle putting its all into his spinning strike. It was everything he had. Nothing left in reserve for later. He couldn't hold back now. It would be pointless to stake it all on this moment if he didn't give it his all as well.

The ant attempted to use its technique, its foot sliding back into a fifth step, but his right hand slid back on his staff, gripping it by the end as he used its full length to bridge the gap. The grains of his staff shone as his qi burst through them, like glittering veins of gold as they collided with the guai's hard carapace.

For a heartbeat they seemed equal.

That their body refinement would let it match his blow.

But a second beat later there was a CRACK!

He felt the hard shell give under his strike, the ant's antenna's flailing wildly as it sailed through the air. It landed a foot from the barrier with a crash, and he forced himself to suck in a deep breath of qi as his head went light.

He couldn't lose the initiative.

Had to strike while the iron was got.

Hot.

Damn, he needed more qi.

He shuddered another deep breath as he forced himself forwards, almost tripping over his own feet as he did. His muscles ached, like he'd just run a lap around the mountain. The ant staggered upwards, a new shade of green bleeding through into its robes.

An arm rose.

Too early, he wasn't ready for a counterattack.

Chao Ren's arm buckled as he forced himself to raise his staff. He'd feign a block, and then duck for a counterattack.

That would work. He was about ready to collapse anyways, so it would let him put the force of his fall into the blow.

"I yield," the ant rasped, its mandibles clacking like a discordant muyu as it forced the words out.

The words hit Chao Ren like a second technique, and he barely managed to stop himself from collapsing under it. His left hand rose up his staff, and he managed to catch his balance on it just before he fell.

He barely registered the referee's words as he announced his victory, his thoughts awhirl as he limped his way back to the waiting room, unable to conceal the exhaustion in his steps.

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