The five towering arenas were positioned in the heart of the training grounds. Each stage was occupied by eight warriors, with the most prominent—the central stage—reserved for the members of the Nalan family, standing tall and imposing. The other four stages to the east, south, west, and north were occupied by the Yan family, the Li family, the Chen family, and the rogue warriors led by Qiu Lan, respectively.

At that moment, in the direction of the Nalan family, an elder standing next to the city lord Nalan Kunbu rose to his feet, his eyes scanning the stages below.

"Today's tournament is meant to test the strength and skill of the elite youth in Cangyun City. Therefore, there is no need to hold back. If a competitor is defeated, they may surrender, and the fight will end. However, if they refuse to surrender, the battle will continue until one party falls completely. Life and death will not be accounted for."

His words caused a ripple of shock through the crowd. Refusing to surrender could mean a fight to the death—harsh indeed.

Many of the more prideful martial artists placed great importance on honor, especially when it came to admitting defeat, which they considered disgraceful. As a result, very few would willingly surrender. Even when outmatched, they'd rather continue fighting to defend their pride—defeat with honor, as they say.

But the elder's declaration forced them to reconsider. It implied that killing wasn't restricted. If two equally matched opponents refused to yield, the result would be a bitter fight to the end, perhaps even leading to deep grudges between families.

"Clever," many murmured in approval. The elder was clearly voicing Nalan Kunbu's intentions. This move only benefited the Nalan family. After all, this was their turf—the city lord's mansion. No one would dare kill a member of the city lord's family here. But for the other competitors, it was a different story. Fatal duels between members of other families could spark animosities that would run deep.

Nalan Kunbu clearly hoped to stir up conflict among the other major families. And while the heads of the Yan, Li, and Chen families saw through his plan, they had little choice but to play along. Each family was eager to prove their superiority and be revered by the others, and thus, their instructions to their young warriors were clear—fight to win.

And besides, the elder had said that surrender was an option. It seemed reasonable on the surface, and they couldn't exactly protest. After all, who would admit that their family's disciples were inferior?

"I've already got the full list of participants for today's tournament. I'll be deciding the matchups. Any objections from you, esteemed family heads?" The elder's gaze swept over the three heads of the major families.

"Heh, since this is all organized by the city lord's mansion, I'm good with it," said Yan Qinglei, head of the Yan family, with a casual tone, as if he couldn't care less.

"Every year the tournament is hosted by City Lord Nalan, so it should be no different this time," added Chen Renyue, head of the Chen family.

"No objections here either," Li Batian, head of the Li family, naturally had no reason to disagree.

The elder smiled slightly at their responses. "Then, on behalf of City Lord Nalan, I thank you all. The rules are simple: every match will be an elimination round. Lose, and you're out. Win, and you move on."

"I will now announce the pairings. If your name is called, stay on the stage. Everyone else, wait below. In the main arena, Nalan Yanran of the Nalan family will face Chen Xin of the Chen family. In the east arena, Yan Yun of the Yan family will take on Li Wu from the Li family. The south arena will see Li Yu of the Li family against Chen Feng of the Chen family. In the west arena, Nalan Zhu from the Nalan family will fight Qiankun. And in the north arena, Duoming will face Yan Qing from the Yan family."

Each of the five arenas could host two matches, with ten participants fighting at once. The forty participants would be halved after four rounds, leaving only twenty.

Those whose names weren't called stepped down from the stage, while the ten chosen fighters took their places in their respective arenas.

"Heh, bad luck for Chen Xin. Facing Nalan Yanran in the first round? Sure, she's strong, but she's got no chance of winning."

"I heard Li Wu is no pushover either, already at the ninth level of Qi Martial Arts. The east arena will probably go to him."

"Chen Feng should win in the south arena, and Qiankun has the upper hand in the west. But as for the north... Duoming's mysterious, always wearing that silver mask, but with Yan Qing as his opponent? Poor guy doesn't stand a chance. No way he's beating someone like Yan Qing."

Even before the battles began, the crowd had already decided the winners and losers. They were familiar with Cangyun City's young elites and their respective strengths. However, the masked fighter in the north arena, Duoming, sparked some curiosity. He was unknown to the crowd, and though he carried himself with an air of confidence, his opponent was Yan Qing, a powerhouse in the Qi Martial Arts realm. There was little hope for an upset—Yan Qing was at the peak of the Qi Martial Arts stage, nearly unmatched by anyone below the Spiritual Martial realm. As for an unfamiliar fighter with no reputation? The odds were heavily stacked against him.

The crowd's predictions weren't far off. In the main arena, Chen Xin surrendered without even putting up a fight. Honor was important, but losing to Nalan Yanran wasn't shameful. Attempting to fight her, however, would've been reckless.

On the eastern and western stages, the results were just as the crowd had expected: Li Wu and Chen Feng secured their victories. In the west, Qiankun completely overwhelmed his opponent, and it looked like his match would end soon as well. Yet the northern stage remained oddly quiet, with no sign of the battle starting, leaving the spectators confused.

Yan Qing, in particular, seemed entirely uninterested in Duoming. He barely acknowledged his opponent, treating him as if he didn't even exist. Instead, Yan Qing's gaze was locked on the other stages, analyzing the competition. After all, he was sure to advance to the next round and wanted to assess the strength of his future opponents.

"I'm no match for Nalan Yanran, so hopefully, I won't run into her. Li Wu and Chen Feng, though? They'll be easy to take down. As for Qiankun, he's gotten stronger lately, but still manageable. If I face any of those three, I'll be fine," Yan Qing muttered to himself, completely dismissing the masked Duoming from his thoughts as he strategized for the next round.

Finally, Qiankun delivered a crushing blow to Nalan Zhu, ending their match. With Nalan Zhu unable to continue, he conceded defeat, and the crowd's attention shifted to the northern stage.

"Alright, that's it. Looks like round one's over," the crowd thought, expecting the last match to end as quickly as the others.

"Yan Qing, stop wasting time," called out Yan Qinglei, the Yan family head, his tone cold and arrogant, as if showing off his disciple's dominance, implying Yan Qing could finish the fight whenever he wanted.

"Yes, Patriarch." Yan Qing responded, then glanced at Li Xiaoyao, saying indifferently, "Just get off the stage. I can't be bothered to waste my energy on you."

Li Xiaoyao stood there, arms crossed, his silver mask revealing only his eyes and half of his face, making it hard to gauge his emotions. Like Yan Qing, he had been watching the other fights. Since his opponent wasn't in a rush to start, he felt no need to hurry either. As for Yan Qing's arrogance, Li Xiaoyao was long used to these so-called "geniuses" and their overinflated egos.

"Didn't you hear me? I told you to get lost. If I have to make a move, you might not even be able to crawl off this stage. I'll take your life right here," Yan Qing said, frowning at Li Xiaoyao's silence. The elites from the major families always looked down on rogue cultivators like Li Xiaoyao, believing that without the backing of a powerful family, they could never amount to anything. Yan Qing didn't see any value in a nobody like him.

"Better get off now while I'm still in a good mood," Li Xiaoyao finally spoke, his voice calm but commanding, freezing the crowd in place. Then, a few in the crowd started to snicker, thinking this masked fighter must be insane.

Only those who had come with Qiu Lan didn't laugh. To them, Li Xiaoyao was a mystery—his strength was undeniable, and even Wu Hao had been no match for him.

"Yan Qing, you've got some bad luck," Qiankun thought to himself, watching the situation unfold. To him, Yan Qing was practically asking for death with the way he was acting.

At that moment, Yan Qing's expression turned sour. He hadn't expected someone with no reputation to dare speak to him like that. He was the second-ranked fighter of the Yan family, one of the strongest below the Spirit Martial Realm, and highly valued by his family.

"Finish him," Yan Qinglei's cold voice rang out, sending a chill through the crowd. They all thought the same thing—Li Xiaoyao was doomed. Yan Qinglei's command was clear: Yan Qing was to kill him.

"Understood." Yan Qing, hearing the anger in his patriarch's voice, didn't hesitate. His figure blurred as he moved, far too fast to give Li Xiaoyao any chance to surrender.

"Wild Bull Fist!" Yan Qing roared, his fist tearing through the air with terrifying force, as if even the atmosphere itself was being shredded by his strike.

Yet, Li Xiaoyao remained still, as immovable as a mountain. Just as the Wild Bull Fist was about to reach him, a brilliant light cut through the air—sword light, descending from the heavens.