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Chapter 214: Sword Forging

The competition was merciless, with no avenues for retreat.

From 216 to 108, then to 54, and 27; after three intense rounds, the remaining contestants dwindled, yet the fervor of the festival sweeping through the city only intensified.

Le Qiao Qiao, practically a little thief who found her way in by some stroke of luck, got knocked off her horse in the second round, and even fewer extraordinary disciples of the Jing Shen Sect, who had guarantees for advancement, remained.

In fact, very few competitors below the “Seeking Immortal” realm made it this far. While those who genuinely reached the upper four realms were still a rarity, Vilyric had already seen over ten individuals who had achieved at least the third level in the previous Ling Kingdom tournament, like Bai’er.

This edition of the Four Saints Selection Tournament was unprecedented in intensity.

A fortunate contestant drew a bye, and of course, it was not Vilyric, but rather another Miss Silver Cat who also participated in the finals. It’s hard to tell if it was pure luck or something more sinister at play, but it hardly mattered.

In reality, Mengrui’s worries were a bit misplaced, as the Eastern Yuan Holy Sect did not blatantly target Someone Priestess. The opponents she faced in several rounds varied in strength, closely matching most other competitors.

Just as Vilyric had guessed.

After all, the current situation on the continent was quite unstable. As long as the Eastern Yuan Holy Monarch wasn’t completely bamboozled, he had no reason to do anything obviously offensive to unidentified powerful individuals. If he couldn’t even distinguish such a simple priority, then Shangguan Qiuming couldn’t have possibly maintained power for 200 years while successfully managing the nation’s operations.

What he could do at most was to indirectly probe Vilyric’s strength and motives, hoping to entice her to show some genuine trump cards and thereby further understand Someone Priestess’s situation.

Thus, in the penultimate round of the competition, where 27 became 13, the young swordswoman known as Red Sleeve Hidden Sword, Hong Yan, once again stood before Vilyric.

“Nice to see you again~”

Amidst the audience’s exuberant cheers, Vilyric smiled and nodded at the gray-haired swordswoman approaching her slowly from the opposite side.

Hong Yan’s raw strength did not rate as excellent among the finalists; if judged by level, she probably wouldn’t exceed level 35, still some distance from the Seeking Immortal realm, and she was largely comparable to many Jing Shen sect disciples.

Their advantage lay in youth, with limitless potential, but this also marked their fatal flaw.

The Four Saints Selection Tournament was a stage for all strong individuals from around the world, and some of the older competitors might even be ten to a hundred times older than the rest, capable of taking on the roles of teacher or ancestor. Such unequal competition was naturally unfair.

Perhaps that’s why the disciples of the Jing Shen Sect received sponsorship from the Holy Sect Alliance, allowing those who were less experienced but exceptionally gifted to study at the Immortal Island, but such situations were ultimately rare; over 99% of competitors under 30 had no opportunity to reach the finals, let alone advance through all rounds until now.

For Hong Yan to get this far was indeed a miracle created by both luck and strength.

But sadly, it could only end here. Even if Vilyric were willing to go easy on her, she stood no chance against her next opponent, whose raw strength was simply too far ahead.

“Please guide me.”

The girl placed her hand on the hilt at her waist, expressionless as she assumed her poised stance.

As taciturn as ever.

Even after several encounters with Vilyric and others during these days, she was quite familiar with them, yet understanding the depth of the opponent before her, once the battle commenced, Hong Yan cast aside all doubts and focused solely on her sword.

Perhaps that’s why she was able to reach this point from her relatively weak position. If she continued to uphold this practice, this swordswoman might indeed have a slight chance of breaking through the limits of humanity and reaching the upper four realms, known to be as eternal as the heavens and earth.

Provided that…

“Are you ready? You should know what this fight means; it’s not too late to back out now.”

The swordswoman bit her lip, a determined look crossing her face.

“It’s already too late to back out now; I… must overcome my Heart Demon.”

A sword needs to be forged through countless trials to reveal its true edge, and so does a swordsman.

After her first confrontation with Vilyric, Hong Yan ever so early penned a letter, reaching out to her master far away to ask why she couldn’t unsheathe her sword at that moment. The master’s reply to her written account contained just two words:

Fear.

Indeed, that was the shadow called Fear.

It was the first chasm that humans must cross when they face and seek to reach the mysterious powers that vastly surpass their own.

Swordsmen must first refine their hearts; thus, they possess a far more acute perception than regular warriors. With Hong Yan’s skills in the sword path, she subconsciously sensed the essence of something that was far from ordinary life the moment they first faced off.

Because the Fear engraved deep in her level and species prevented her from drawing her sword, she dared not unsheathe it; such failure would inevitably manifest into the swordsman’s Heart Demon. If she couldn’t overcome it, Hong Yan would never be able to break through to the supreme domain of the upper four realms in her lifetime.

This psychological showdown was bound to come, and Vilyric’s appearance only rendered it more immediate.

Sensing the girl’s resolve, a smile of pleasure gradually graced Someone Priestess’s face.

“Then, let’s push forward with all our might. You don’t want to lose to him, right?”

“?!”

Hong Yan’s pupils instantly shrank, but before she could say anything further…

The black-haired girl stepped forward.

“Buzz ~!!!!!!!”

The world before her fell eerily silent.

She saw a sun rising in the distance, blood-red blossoms rippling in a climactic wave.

The passionate audience roared in excitement for the impending clash, the enthusiastic commentator’s shout still reverberating throughout the venue, yet none of it reached Hong Yan’s ears.

No one knew what she was truly facing.

The overwhelming pressure that seemed akin to that of a God seemed to settle solely on the swordswoman’s shoulders.

The initial scene of their first meeting played in reverse at this moment.

“Cough…”

Crimson blood trickled slowly from the corner of the girl’s mouth—one drop, two drops—her pupils had lost focus, but her hand holding the sword remained resolute.

This was an absolute power that was nearly inexpressible by words. She had almost grasped this understanding in the corners of her consciousness, but Hong Yan found it hard to utter even a word of genuine admiration because she felt an unprecedented primal fear that nearly crushed her unwavering sword heart.

Her soul trembled; in her vision, it had long morphed into that dazzling figure like a blazing sun, stabbing at her eyes painfully, warm liquid sliding down the corners of her eyes.

As a human, Hong Yan’s instincts suddenly recognized something.

She was unworthy to gaze upon the other; merely this transgressive glance could bring her pain or even annihilation. Fear and awe surged forth from the depths of her soul. As an ordinary girl, she could hardly suppress the impulse to bow and kneel. Just managing not to tremble on the surface was already her limit.

Hong Yan had no spare capacity to ponder what this being, who couldn’t even be called human, truly was. Feeling the limits of the other’s power, she could only force her eyes wide open in agonizing pain, meeting the black-haired girl’s bright eyes, still as pure as sapphire but hinting at golden light.

Must not bow, must not look away.

Otherwise, this shadow of fear would become an indelible nightmare throughout her life, shattering her sword heart.

She could feel her soul fraying apart, a natural outcome of a mortal body forcibly resisting the divine’s pressure. But even so, Hong Yan refused to give in.

Because she must surpass that person, achieving what even he could not.

And then… bring him home.

Unsheath her sword.

She gripped what could be called her “other half” tightly.

It felt as if a weight of thousands of pounds pressed down on her, her bones creaked under the forced strain, as the girl clenched her jaw, blood flowing again from her lips, ears, nostrils, and the corners of her eyes, adding a touch of tragic beauty to her cold features.

Clearly, the black-haired girl had only taken one step forward, yet they remained several meters apart. The noisy audience gradually fell silent, even that ever-chatty commentator who could always find various topics to energize the atmosphere slipped into brief silence.

Through the big screen broadcasting above the main venue, everyone could clearly see every detail of the match.

Even if they couldn’t sense the horrific pressure targeting only Hong Yan, from the sudden stillness of the air and the blood-streaked eyes of the swordswoman, drenched in bleeding, they could roughly guess…

—That they had already commenced their clash.