The Sect Tournament Begins

The sect's grand arena was alive with roaring excitement, the echo of disciples' cheers rolling through the sky like thunder. The circular coliseum stretched high into the clouds, its stone walls carved with ancient runes that pulsed faintly with protective energy. Massive banners fluttered from the pillars, each emblazoned with the Crimson Feather Sect's insignia: a crimson bird engulfed in golden flames.

Xiao Lian stood at the edge of the arena, her pulse steady despite the chaos around her. She tightened her grip on her sword, her eyes scanning the crowd. Hundreds of disciples filled the stands, their eager faces alight with bloodthirsty anticipation. The sect tournament was the event of the year, a brutal spectacle where only the strongest would rise to the top.

And she had no intention of losing.

[Tournament commencement detected.]

SIS's voice resonated softly in her mind.

[Scanning competitors… Potential threats identified: 37.]

Xiao Lian exhaled slowly. Only 37 out of hundreds? She almost felt disappointed.

The sect master, a looming figure in crimson robes, rose from his seat on the high platform. His piercing gaze swept over the arena like a blade, and with a simple gesture, the barrier runes flared to life, sealing the fighting stage.

"Let the Crimson Feather Sect Tournament begin!" his voice boomed, shaking the ground.

The crowd erupted in cheers as the first matches were announced. Xiao Lian barely heard the names called before her own echoed through the arena like a death knell.

"Xiao Lian versus Wei Zhen!"

Her heart skipped.

Of course. She stepped onto the platform, her boots scraping against the worn stone. Across from her stood Wei Zhen, the same arrogant brute who had bullied her when she first arrived at the sect. His bulky frame seemed even more massive now, muscles straining against his robes. He twirled a spiked mace in one hand, sneering at her with venomous satisfaction.

"Well, well," he drawled, voice dripping with malice. "Looks like fate finally gave me a chance to break you."

Xiao Lian tilted her head, her expression blank. "You can try."

The audience buzzed with excitement, murmurs rippling through the crowd. Everyone remembered Wei Zhen's cruelty and Xiao Lian's humiliation at his hands during her early days in the sect.

"This'll be over in seconds," one disciple snickered.

"She's just a strategist," another whispered. "No way she can handle Wei Zhen this time around."

The referee raised his hand.

"Begin!"

Wei Zhen charged like a beast unleashed, the ground quaking beneath his steps. His mace blurred through the air, aiming for her skull with bone-crushing force. Xiao Lian sidestepped, her body moving like water, the wind of his attack ruffling her sleeves.

Wei Zhen snarled, swinging again l, faster this time, the spikes of the mace gleaming with embedded poison.

Xiao Lian didn't flinch.

[Analyzing enemy attack patterns.]

[Weak points detected: 5.]

She parried the next strike with almost surgical precision, her sword clashing against the mace with a sharp ring. The impact rattled her bones, but she held firm, twisting her wrist to redirect the force.

Wei Zhen stumbled, eyes wide with shock as she slipped past his guard and slashed a shallow cut across his bicep. Blood bloomed against his skin like a crimson flower.

The crowd gasped.

"Lucky hit," Wei Zhen spat, wiping the blood with his sleeve. "I'm just getting started!"

He unleashed a flurry of wild, heavy swings, the sheer force of his attacks carving gouges into the stone beneath them. But each strike missed by a hair's breadth, Xiao Lian weaving through the chaos with eerie grace.

Her eyes gleamed with cold calculation.

"Your stance is unstable," she remarked, dodging another blow. "Your shoulder telegraphs every attack."

Wei Zhen roared, lunging recklessly. She ducked beneath the swing and drove her elbow into his ribs. Hard. Wei Zhen staggered, coughing violently, his mace clattering to the ground.

Xiao Lian pressed her blade against his throat before he could recover, her voice like ice.

"You never fixed your footwork, either."

The arena fell silent.

Wei Zhen froze, sweat pouring down his face as the cold steel of her sword kissed his skin. He trembled, fury and humiliation twisting his features but he didn't move.

He couldn't.

The referee hesitated, glancing at the sect master before raising his hand.

"Winner: Xiao Lian!"

The crowd erupted, but not with cheers. Whispers spread like wildfire.

"She beat Wei Zhen that easily, again, after his bloody training?"

"Did you see her movement? That wasn't normal…"

"Is she really just a strategist?"

Xiao Lian sheathed her sword, ignoring the noise as she left the stage. But the murmurs followed her like ghosts. And this was just the day one of the tournament, tomorrow is next.

.

.

.

.

Later that evening, Xiao Lian sat by the sect's lotus pond, the tournament grounds visible in the distance. Matches raged on, the clash of steel echoing through the night.

She dipped her hand into the water, watching the ripples distort her reflection.

[Enemy threat neutralized.]

[Crowd sentiment analysis: 63% suspicion, 27% fear, 10% admiration.]

Xiao Lian sighed.

"I was too flashy," she muttered.

"Way too flashy," Ji Ren's voice drawled from behind her.

She turned, finding him leaning against a tree, arms crossed and his sword resting against his shoulder. His sharp gaze pierced through her like he could read her every thought.

"You're not even trying to hide it anymore," he said, pushing off the tree and walking toward her. "The way you dismantled Wei Zhen… that was brutal."

"He deserved worse," she said flatly.

Ji Ren snorted, dropping onto the grass beside her. "Maybe. But now everyone's talking about you. And not in a good way."

She frowned, glancing at him. "Let them talk."

Ji Ren's expression darkened. "You don't get it, do you?" He leaned in, voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "The more attention you draw, the faster the elders will act."

Her pulse quickened. He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "I told you before: if you dig too deep, you might not like what you find."

Xiao Lian clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms.

"I don't care," she said, voice steady. "I'm not backing down."

Ji Ren studied her for a long moment, then shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

"Of course you're not," he muttered. "Just try not to die before the finals, alright?"

She turned back to the pond, her reflection staring back with unyielding determination.

"I won't," she whispered.

Because she wasn't just fighting for victory. She was fighting for answers. And nothing, not the tournament, not the elders, not even death itself would stop her from getting them.