The next rounds passed without pause.
There were no announcements, no dramatic delays—only continuous elimination. One match after another, the number of participants shrank rapidly. What had begun as a crowded field of outer disciples from multiple sects was reduced to a fraction within hours.
Lin Mo and Shi Yue advanced cleanly.
Their third and fourth matches were no longer effortless, but they were controlled. Each opponent forced them to reveal more—better timing, sharper execution, more refined Qi control—but neither of them was pushed to their limit.
Lin Mo faced another peak Qi Refinement opponent from Iron Blood Hall, whose raw strength far exceeded the earlier rounds. The fight lasted longer, forcing Lin Mo to adapt mid-combat, adjusting his timing and refining his Iron Body Strike under pressure. He didn't overpower his opponent—he broke his rhythm, dismantled his offense, and ended the fight with a decisive counter.
Shi Yue's fourth match was even more telling. Her opponent from Silent Moon Pavilion relied heavily on movement and misdirection, attempting to outmaneuver her through unpredictability. But Shi Yue's Step Shadow Movement had already surpassed simple reaction. She didn't chase—she controlled space. Within a few exchanges, her opponent was forced into a position he couldn't escape.
By the time the fifth round ended—
only eight remained.
—
The formation shifted again.
This time, the arenas merged.
Instead of multiple isolated spaces, four larger platforms formed across the central field. The remaining participants were divided accordingly. The structure was clear now.
Quarterfinals.
Then semifinals.
Then—
the final.
—
Lin Mo stood quietly at the edge of the field, Lin An'an resting against his shoulder. Her head leaned lightly against him, her small fingers absentmindedly gripping the fabric of his sleeve. She had long since grown used to the rhythm of movement and stillness.
Shi Yue stood beside him.
Neither of them spoke.
They didn't need to.
Their focus had already narrowed.
—
The names were called.
—
Lin Mo stepped forward first.
—
His opponent this time—
Silent Moon Pavilion.
The same figure who had drawn attention earlier.
Calm.
Precise.
Refined.
—
Qi Refinement — 9th Layer.
But unlike the others—
complete.
—
The barrier formed.
The moment it stabilized, neither of them moved.
They observed.
Measured.
—
The first exchange came without warning.
The opponent stepped forward—not fast, but exact. His movement carried no wasted motion, no unnecessary force. His strike wasn't aimed to overwhelm—it was aimed to test.
Lin Mo responded.
Not by retreating.
By meeting it.
—
Iron Body Strike.
—
The clash was clean.
But different.
For the first time—
his strike didn't disrupt the opponent's balance.
—
They separated.
—
Lin Mo understood immediately.
This one—
would not break easily.
—
The pace shifted.
Faster.
Sharper.
More deliberate.
Each exchange carried intent. The opponent's technique was precise to the point of suffocation, limiting Lin Mo's movement, controlling angles, forcing reactions.
But Lin Mo didn't resist directly.
He adapted.
—
He let the pressure build.
Watched.
Adjusted.
—
Then—
he changed the rhythm.
—
Instead of responding to each movement—
he interrupted it.
—
A slight delay.
A shift in timing.
A disruption in flow.
—
The opponent's precision faltered.
Just slightly.
—
Enough.
—
Lin Mo stepped in.
The strike landed.
—
Not perfectly.
—
But decisively.
—
The match ended.
—
The barrier dissolved.
—
Lin Mo exhaled slowly.
—
That had been close.
—
He stepped out.
—
Shi Yue was already preparing.
—
Her opponent—
Iron Blood Hall.
—
Unlike Lin Mo's match—
this one began immediately.
—
Raw force met controlled movement.
—
The difference in approach was clear from the start. The opponent relied on overwhelming strength, attempting to close the distance and dominate the fight through sheer pressure.
Shi Yue didn't resist.
She redirected.
—
Step Shadow Movement.
—
Her figure shifted continuously, never meeting force directly, always adjusting, always repositioning. The opponent's attacks grew heavier, more aggressive, but less controlled with each failed attempt.
—
Then—
a mistake.
—
Too much force.
Too little balance.
—
Shi Yue stepped in.
One movement.
One strike.
—
Clean.
—
The match ended.
—
The final four were decided.
—
Lin Mo.
Shi Yue.
Iron Blood Hall disciple.
Verdant Flow Pavilion disciple.
—
The formation shifted once more.
—
Two arenas remained.
—
Semifinals.
—
Lin Mo and Shi Yue stood side by side again.
This time—
they both knew.
—
They would not avoid each other much longer.
—
Lin An'an stirred slightly, her small voice breaking the silence.
"…Mo…"
—
Lin Mo adjusted his hold slightly.
Shi Yue glanced at them.
For a brief moment—
the tension eased.
—
Then—
the names were called.
—
And the next step—
began.