The duel

Tap! Tap! Tap!

"Huff…Huff…huff…!" The strained pants of a significantly aged man resounded, alongside the sounds of his wooden footwear, across the empty gardens of a vast compound whilst he ran.

Tap! Tap!

The middle-aged man ran, his face dark with calamitous foreboding, his heart pounding wildly.

…And it was not because of the marathon he'd just undergone.

'Damn, I cannot believe this! This was the first time in years we let the young master enter the city unaccompanied, and something like this happens?! Curses! The great Lord is sure to be furious!' The man contemplated, biting his lips.

Unsurprisingly, the young master he was referring to was none other than Zhao Ming, the only son of Zhao Mo Chuan and the heir to the Leafy Spring clan… all in the past tense, of course.

Being the considerably affluent household that they were, the Zhao family had taken great care in ensuring that the only heir to the position of Patriarch was always accounted for and never lacked anything.

Even to the point of them purchasing those unreasonably expensive tracker Jades, just to ensure they always knew where he went. They also always assigned him a team of strong guards, to ward away any sort of harm.

But today… Today was different.

Today, the staff responsible for Zhao Ming's safety had organized a sort of celebration, even going outside the gates to purchase meat from the merchants earlier today.

Also, the young master himself had specifically given them orders to not follow him. But as though the heavens had some sort of bone to pick with them, they actually ended up losing him!

The more the man thought about it, the darker his expression grew, and the more his steps faltered.

'Calm down before you give yourself a heart attack!' The man slapped his cheeks, trying to NOT accidentally kill himself, 'The shaman only said that his signal had just disappeared, so he might still be… Whatever the case, I must tell his Lordship as soon as possible! I shudder to think of what would happen if he somehow figured it out himself!'

He gulped hard.

At this point in time, the old man already knew that his fate was sealed. And although he was still struggling with coming to terms with it, he knew his only chance was to plead for a quick and painless death…

But even was a long shot, considering who he was dealing with.

…

Tap.Tap.Tap.

As the man approached his destination—which was a very large building with massive metal gates— he gulped loudly before informing the resident guards of his purpose for visiting.

The middle-aged man's apprehension grew as he watched the guards' faces turn ghastly pale after he finished explaining the situation.

They all knew...This old man was screwed.

Soon afterwards, the large gates flung open allowing the man passage into the main residence of the Zhao family. After a quick "Good luck!" from the guards, who felt sorry for him, he went in.

Da-thump! Da-thump!

The man's heart beat wildly as he knocked on a wooden door, on the other side of said door was the man who would inevitably determine his fate.

"Enter."

A domineering voice boomed from the other side, prompting the man's timely entrance.

"I-I greet the Patriarch!" The man said as he fell on his knees, kowtowing to the powerful figure who sat atop an elevated podium, at the far end of the long inner chamber.

To the left and right of the room were wooden stools and pillows, as this was the place where the Patriarch's confidants usually gathered for meetings...

Granted, the old man was filled with an immense amount of anxiety—sweating profusely as he did—the patriarch's mere presence being the main culprit of this feeling.

But even then, he could never overlook the fact that there were undoubtedly lethal killers hiding in the shadows, waiting to attack at the behest of their single master...

If he screwed up and failed to choose words carefully, then he wouldn't even know how he died. That was simply how terrifying the Lord's shadows were to an ordinary old man like himself.

He trembled.

"State your purpose for being here." Said the figure who was shrouded in darkness… The room was poorly illuminated.

Following his words, the old man proceeded to recount the recent events, as well as his findings, with a shaky voice.

"WHAT!"

The innocent man couldn't even finish speaking. All he had done was imply that Zhao Ming —the future Patriarch, could be dead, and just like that the Clan Leader was on his feet, wide-eyed and utterly enraged!

Whoosh!

"S-sir we—Ugh!!" The man groaned loudly before falling on the floor, as Zhao Mo Chuan unleashed his Cultivation, not a shred of regard or care for his victim's status as a mere mortal.

"M-m-m...mercy." The man pleaded as he felt the air being choked out of his lungs. If things didn't change soon, he would suffocate to death due to the sheer force of the esteemed Lord's aura!

The Patriarch remained silent for a while, not letting up in the slightest, before…

"Choose your next words very carefully… Mortal." Zhao Mo Chuan said as he reduced his output to the minimum that his enraged emotions could let him.

The middle-aged man coughed as he fought to take even the smallest breaths, gasping and heaving like a wild beast.

He looked up at his master, the back of his robes already drenched in cold sweat.

"Well, I'm waiting." The Clan Leader spoke, his words sending shivers down the apparently older man's spine. He couldn't dawdle any longer, he had to make his case. And he had to do it now...

In this ruthless world, superfluous things like age didn't matter. The only thing that did matter was Power... Connections... Resources...

...All things that the Venerable Patriarch possessed in spades.

If the Oldman failed to give a satisfactory response, then he would die. It was as simple as that.

With a raspy, strained voice, the elder pulled himself from the floor. Respectfully taking a knee, then he continued his report.

"L-lord, we…"

*****

Rustle. Rustle

Meanwhile, within the Xian's family gardens, a rather peculiar duel was set to commence.

Standing across from Ying was Jiang Chu who donned a serious expression while holding up a metal sword. As the Xians didn't have any training weapons, they had to use real ones to compensate.

A few meters away from Ying's general radius stood Xian Shan and the rest of the onlookers. All of them wore generally un-expectant looks on their faces.

'Fuuu…Third realm huh? That's one difficulty level below the earlier one. Last time, I had the element of surprise so I managed to catch my targets off guard. They were also quite inexperienced and could not react to my attacks in time, but now…'

Ying understood the task at hand. And being the scrutinizing sceptic that he was, he knew that his victory over Zhao Ming was mostly due to luck and only moderately due to his actual skill.

He also surmised that Jiang Chu was most definitely far stronger than Zhao Ming, as why else would the latter need to resort to an ambush if this wasn't the case?

Ying summoned his pilfered blade, then glanced at the audience to see their reactions to a blade materializing from nothing…. Totally indifferent!

'Seriously, nothing?' Ying smiled awkwardly as he took in the looks on everyone's faces. Soon, his gaze fell on Xian Shan.

He recalled something that the young Lady had told him not very long ago when she gave up on attempts to convince Jiang Chu, trying to dissuade Ying himself.

"He is a talent who started Cultivating merely two months ago. Despite being from a commoner background, he is one of the strongest outer disciples of the Flowing Sword Sect! He is even comparable to an expert at the Fourth realm of body tempering!"

To Ying, such words barely held any water.

After all, he himself had only started Cultivating mere hours ago. In fact, the words actually had quite the opposite effect, bolstering Ying's confidence by quite a bit.

'He's been cultivating for entire months and is still at this level? Ha! I have been at it for just a couple of hours… Although it's probably mostly thanks to the system, but still.' Ying deduced as he pointed his sword at Jiang Chu.

Of course, the NPCs could never be aware of the system to which the players had access. Even now, the spectators who all knew of Jiang Chu's Cultivation, as he frequently visited the place, did not really expect much from the newcomer.

He was not only physically weaker but also lacked this innate Charisma that all geniuses and prodigies had. In a nutshell, they did not expect this… Skirmish, of sorts, to last very long.

Qing Lo suddenly stepped up.

Seeing that the two were ready to go, the head steward—being the unanimously voted moderator—nodded his head at the two fighters, then he yelled, "Assume the standard duel rules, begin!"

As soon as the words reached Ying's ears, he immediately activated the [Weightless] effect of his blade. Of course, he had already confirmed that the effect could be activated with thought commands.

He felt the blade in his grasp grow lighter and lighter to the point where it became comparable to a feather; the shift was sudden and drastic, but immensely effective.

Understanding that his opponent was likely far superior to him in terms of sheer power, Ying made a decision not to allow himself to be put in a defensive situation and dashed towards Jiang Chu.

He took the offensive...

To which the latter responded in kind.

Clang!

The two swords collided with each other birthing a fierce clangour.

"Dammit!" Ying spat as he felt his arms tremble from the impact of the collision, whereas his opponent showed no indication of struggle!

It would seem that he had miscalculated, again, Jiang Chu's actual strength.

'H-holy… This guy... is far stronger than Zhao Ming!'