Chapter 5 — The Sect Tournament Begins
The morning mist still clung to the peaks of Righteous Sky Sect when the great bell rang. Its deep, resonant tone echoed through the mountain valley — once, twice, then a third time.
Each strike was followed by silence so profound that even the birds seemed to hold their breath.
Arin paused mid-swing, his wooden sword frozen midair. Sweat dripped from his chin, scattering across the polished stone courtyard. For weeks he had trained relentlessly — refining his Silent Crescent, deepening his connection to Sword Qi. But that bell meant only one thing.
He turned toward the rising sun, where disciples were already gathering near the Grand Plaza.
"Arin!" called Taren, waving from afar. "Come quickly! The Elders have summoned everyone. It's about the annual Sect Tournament!"
Arin sheathed his sword, heart pounding. A tournament. That meant competition… and ranking. He followed Taren through the bustling corridors of the sect until they reached the vast open square carved into the mountain itself.
Hundreds of disciples stood in orderly rows, their robes rippling in the wind. The banners of the Righteous Sky Sect — blue silk embroidered with silver crescents — fluttered above the stage, where the Elders sat in meditation.
At the center stood Grandmaster Lorian, his silver hair shining in the morning light, flanked by Elder Lyra and Elder Fen, whose piercing eyes seemed to see through every heart.
The Announcement
Lorian's voice rolled across the plaza like thunder.
"Disciples of Righteous Sky Sect! The time has come once again for the Sect Tournament — the test that separates mere practitioners from true cultivators of the sword! This is not merely a contest of strength, but of spirit, discipline, and the harmony of Qi."
A murmur ran through the crowd — excitement, fear, and pride mingled together.
Lyra stepped forward. "All one hundred disciples, from the youngest novices to the most advanced, will participate. Rankings will be revealed today. The top ten will represent our sect in the Grand Alliance Tournament next season. Prepare yourselves."
Arin swallowed hard. His palms grew damp. He had only completed the first sword style, while others had mastered several.
Elder Fen unrolled a long parchment, and a shimmering Qi-infused voice carried each name clearly through the air.
As each name was read, murmurs rose among the disciples.
Rank Name Description Cultivation Level
1 Kael Stormwind Tall, black-haired, wearing dark azure robes trimmed in gold. Calm eyes, radiating controlled power. Known for his Lightning Qi Sword. Rank 1, Stage 5
2 Mira Silverveil Slender, silver-haired, ethereal beauty. Movements like mist, master of the Mist Petal Sword Art. Rank 1, Stage 5
3 Jin Tao Muscular, short-haired, scar across his cheek. Fire element cultivator, brute force style. Rank 1, Stage 4
4 Seren Vahl Calm-faced strategist, pale robes. Uses "Whispering Blade" — speed and feint techniques. Rank 1, Stage 4
5 Ryn Halvor Golden-haired, tall, known for defensive Qi techniques. Carries twin short swords. Rank 1, Stage 4
6 Isha Lume Dark-skinned, emerald eyes, elegant stance. Uses water Qi for flexible sword motion. Rank 1, Stage 3
7 Thane Rook Stern, scarred, quiet type. Focused on endurance and internal Qi defense. Rank 1, Stage 3
8 Liraen Dusk Thin, wiry, always smiling — uses illusion Qi in sword forms. Rank 1, Stage 3
9 Verrin Sol Strong-willed, broad shoulders, prefers heavy greatsword. Known for pure strength. Rank 1, Stage 2
10 Elaith Moonrose Graceful woman with flowing crimson hair, uses Moonlight Blade Technique. Rank 1, Stage 2
100 Arin of Lungshen A new initiate from the lower valley. Rank 1, Stage 1
The laughter began almost immediately.
"Rank one hundred? The boy from the villages?"
"He must've bribed someone to get in."
"Maybe he'll last two seconds before someone breaks his sword."
Arin felt the heat rise in his cheeks but said nothing. His hands clenched tightly around his wooden sword.
Elder Lyra's gaze flicked toward him, her tone calm but piercing. "Every seed begins buried in the dark before it grows toward the light. Do not mock what you do not understand."
The whispers died instantly.
Later that day, Arin knelt before Lorian in the quiet of the Sword Hall.
The Grandmaster's expression was unreadable.
"Arin," he said, his voice low. "You now stand at the bottom. Many will underestimate you. That is good — let them. Pride blinds, but humility sharpens the edge."
"I… I won't disappoint you, Master," Arin said.
"You already have not. But you must work harder than anyone else. The tournament begins in one month. Your Silent Crescent will not be enough. You must temper both your Qi and your sword technique. You must awaken the true flow between them."
Arin bowed deeply. "Yes, Master."
Lorian placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then from this moment, you will train day and night. By day, refine your sword. By night, cultivate your Qi. The body and the spirit must become one rhythm — breath, strike, and stillness. I will guide you through this month."
The next morning, Arin began his regimen.
From dawn till dusk, he practiced the Silent Crescent — again and again, until sweat drenched his robes.
He refined each motion, focusing not just on the sword's path, but on the Qi thread that followed it. When his blade cut the air, it left a faint shimmer behind — silver trails that flickered before fading.
Taren sometimes watched from afar, shaking his head in amazement. "He never stops. The others train a few hours and rest. He barely sleeps."
Lyra, observing quietly, murmured to Lorian, "His Qi resonance grows each day. He's beginning to merge intent with energy."
Lorian nodded. "He's close to awakening the second stage of his foundation. If he endures this pace, his Dantian will expand naturally."
When darkness fell, Arin returned to his meditation chamber. A single candle burned beside him as he sat cross-legged, sword resting across his lap.
He inhaled slowly, guiding the Qi from his Dantian through the meridians along his spine, circulating it back to his heart. The energy pulsed like liquid moonlight.
He recalled Lorian's words: "The sword is your breath. The Qi is your blood. The two must circulate together."
Hours passed. Sweat formed on his brow, his body trembling as Qi spiraled faster, denser. The faint glow of silver light surrounded him — the visual echo of Sword Qi fusing with internal energy.
At times, he collapsed from exhaustion, his vision dimming. But each dawn, he stood again, took up his sword, and began anew.
As days passed, the Elders convened to observe the disciples' preparations.
Elder Fen frowned. "The boy trains beyond reason. His body may break."
Lyra replied softly, "Perhaps. But there is a strange stillness in him. He listens to his Qi more than most listen to their masters."
Lorian smiled faintly. "Let him be. The sword chooses its wielder as much as the cultivator chooses his path. If he survives this, he will not remain at the bottom for long."
Meanwhile, among the higher-ranked disciples, rumors spread.
"Did you hear? The village boy trains all night again."
"Hah, let him. All that effort won't bridge the gap in a month."
Mira Silverveil frowned. "You shouldn't mock him. Determination like that can't be measured by rank."
Kael Stormwind, the first-ranked, looked toward the mountains. "He's interesting. Sometimes those with nothing to lose… grow fastest."
On the twenty-eighth night, during meditation, Arin felt something shift.
The Qi within him, once turbulent and scattered, now converged into a single, spiraling stream. His breath aligned perfectly with its rhythm.
A sudden pulse burst from his Dantian — soft, like rippling water — then a surge of silver light enveloped him.
He exhaled sharply. The wooden sword across his lap trembled, glowing faintly with Sword Qi.
In that instant, Arin's cultivation ascended.
Rank 1 — Stage 2.
The air itself vibrated around him. The Qi within his body was smoother, stronger, responsive. He could feel the difference immediately — his movements sharper, senses keener, spirit calmer.
The next morning, when Lorian saw him, he smiled knowingly.
"So. You've broken through."
Arin bowed deeply. "Yes, Master. I can feel the Qi moving freely now. It answers my intent."
"Then you are ready," Lorian said. "The tournament will begin in three days. Forget your ranking. Fight with your heart — and your sword will answer."
Arin's eyes gleamed like twin moons. "Yes, Master."
He turned toward the rising sun, gripping his sword with steady hands. The mountain winds stirred his hair as the banners of the sect fluttered in the distance.
His path had only begun.
And this time, he would not stand at the bottom for long.