In the end, only thirty participants remained.
The second stage of the Hundred Sects Recruitment came to a close.
Those who had failed were escorted away one by one, their expressions ranging from regret to resignation. The remaining youths stood in the plaza, their numbers now thin enough that every individual presence felt distinct.
The gray-robed old man stepped forward once more. He announced, "The next stage will be the battle test."
At those words, the atmosphere instantly tightened.
"This stage will be conducted through matches," The gray-robed old man continued, "Participants will draw lots to determine their opponents. Those who lose will be eliminated. Those who win will advance to the next round."
His gaze swept over the thirty youths. He said calmly, "The battles will continue until only ten participants remain."
This time, no more comprehension and no more luck.
Only strength and victory mattered.
Several officials stepped forward, each carrying a sealed jade box filled with wooden lots.
One by one, the participants stepped up to draw.
The final selection had begun.
Han Qixing lowered his gaze and looked at the wooden token in his hand.
Number "7".
His expression did not change.
Around him, the other participants were also checking their tokens, some exhaling in relief, others frowning as they quietly calculated potential matchups. Soft murmurs rose and fell across the plaza as numbers were compared, and guesses were exchanged.
Some were already sizing up their possible opponents.
Others were silently steadying their breathing.
Once every participant had drawn a lot and the brief commotion settled, the gray-robed old man stepped forward once more.
His gaze swept across the thirty remaining youths, calm and penetrating, as the murmurs in the plaza gradually died down. He said, "The battle test will now be explained."
Several county guards moved swiftly, clearing the center of the plaza and erecting low defensive formations around the designated combat area.
"This stage consists of elimination battles," The gray-robed old man continued, "There are thirty of you. You will first engage in one-on-one matches. After the first round, fifteen participants will remain."
Some of the youths relaxed slightly, while others grew more alert.
"However," The gray-robed old man added, "Because the final quota is ten, a second screening will follow. The second screening will be based on performance in your first battle."
At those words, the plaza stirred.
"Combat strength is not measured solely by victory," The gray-robed old man said evenly, "We will evaluate your performance based on control of spiritual energy, spell mastery, combat awareness, efficiency, and how decisively the battle is concluded."
"From the fifteen winners," He continued, "The top five performers will advance directly and automatically secure their spots."
The crowd stirred.
Only five!
That meant only a handful of people could bypass the second round entirely.
"In that case, I'll have to perform well in the first battle," Someone whispered, "There's no room for holding back."
"I bet three of those spots are already taken by those three," Another muttered under his breath.
"Don't be so pessimistic," A voice countered, "They might not be that good in actual combat."
"Hmph. A bunch of cowards," Someone scoffed, "So what if they're from the Three Great Families? That won't stop me from taking a spot."
Soft murmurs spread through the plaza, ambition and anxiety intertwining.
The gray-robed old man continued, "The remaining ten will continue to fight. Five additional matches will be held. The winners of those matches will also secure the remaining spots."
Suddenly, his expression hardened slightly. He continued, "During battle, you may use any means within your own abilities—talismans, spiritual weapons, pills, or formations. However, the external objects that exceed your own cultivation realm are strictly forbidden. Any violation will result in immediate disqualification."
A faint pressure accompanied his words. The old man said coldly, "And one more rule. Killing is strictly forbidden. The defensive formations are in place to prevent fatal injuries. If a participant deliberately attempts to kill, they will not only be disqualified, but also banned from future recruitment."
With the rules announced, the officials moved swiftly.
The match pairings were finalized, and the combat area at the center of the plaza was fully activated. Defensive formations flared to life, enclosing the arena.
"The third test," The gray-robed old man announced calmly, "Begins!"
At his words, two participants stepped forward.
The battle test officially commenced.
"Little brother, what number did you draw?" Wang Xiaohu asked quietly.
'Little brother?' Han Qixing tilted his head in slight confusion, but still answered honestly, "Seven."
Wang Xiaohu glanced down at the token in his own hand. He muttered, "Fifteen…I hope we don't get matched."
His tone carried genuine worry.
It wasn't because he was afraid.
He was worried that if they faced each other, he would end up eliminating Han Qixing after the latter had come this far.
After all, Han Qixing was only at the Fourth Stage of Qi Refining. If it came to a direct fight, Wang Xiaohu was confident he would win.
Wang Xiaohu's gaze swept across the remaining participants.
Most of them were at the Fifth or Sixth Stage of Qi Refining. Three of them were even at the Seventh Stage.
No matter who Han Qixing faced, he would be at a clear disadvantage in terms of cultivation.
Wang Xiaohu let out a quiet sigh.
Han Qixing did not respond.
To him, it didn't matter who his opponent would be.
Although his cultivation base was lower, he was no stranger to fighting across realms.
His usual training partner was Qingfeng, whose cultivation was higher than his by a small realm. On top of that, he had sparred repeatedly with his father over the past month.
His father was at the Seventh Stage of Qi Refining.
Han Qixing had never stood a chance of winning against him, but that had never been the goal.
The purpose of that training was not to defeat the strong.
It was to survive.
That was why he felt no fear toward the participants here.
If he could handle his opponent, he would do his best to win.
If he couldn't, then he would concede without hesitation.
Just as his father had said—
He was only ten years old.
And he still had two more chances to participate in the Hundred Sects Recruitment.
But even so, he hoped he could secure a spot this time.
Only by doing so could he truly help resolve his family's current predicament.
Soon after, the officials finished arranging the matchups.
"The first battle," The gray-robed old man announced, "Will be Number 1 versus Number 1."
Two youths stepped forward from opposite sides of the plaza, each holding a wooden token engraved with the same number.
They faced one another in the center of the arena.
The defensive formations hummed softly as they activated, sealing the battlefield.
At that moment, all idle chatter ceased.
The first battle of the final selection had officially begun.
Standing within the arena, the two youths faced one another.
Following the rules, they cupped their fists in salute.
"Li Cheng," The youth on the left said clearly, "Fifth Stage of Qi Refining."
"Sun Hao," The other replied, "Fifth Stage of Qi Refining."
With the brief introductions concluded, both of them took a step back.
The gray-robed old man raised his hand slightly, "Begin!"
The moment his voice fell, the two youths moved at the same time.
Both youths drew their spiritual weapons almost simultaneously.
Li Cheng's wrist flicked, and a slender spiritual sword slid into his grasp, its blade shimmering faintly with sword qi.
Across from him, Sun Hao let out a low shout as he hefted a heavy iron mace, spiritual energy surging into it as the weapon emitted a dull, oppressive hum.
Sword light, and brute force collided.
Li Cheng moved lightly, his footwork steady as he weaved around Sun Hao's powerful but slower swings. Each clash sent ripples of spiritual energy across the arena, the defensive formations trembling slightly under the impact.
Sun Hao pressed forward relentlessly, but his attacks gradually grew rougher, his breathing uneven.
In the end, Li Cheng seized an opening.
A sharp flash of sword light cut through the air, stopping just short of Sun Hao's chest.
Sun Hao froze, his mace halting mid-swing.
"I concede."
The outcome was clear.
Li Cheng wins!
The matches continued one after another.
Victories and defeats were decided swiftly until the fifth battle drew noticeably more attention.
"Number 5 versus Number 5."
A ripple ran through the crowd as Chen Ziming stepped into the arena, his expression cold and assured.
Opposite him stood a young man from the Lu Family, Lu Haoyi. His cultivation is clearly at the Sixth Stage of Qi Refining.
However, against Chen Ziming's Seventh Stage, the gap was obvious.
After the brief exchange of names, the battle began.
Chen Ziming did not draw a weapon.
Instead, he raised two fingers.
Spiritual energy surged violently, crackling with thunder attribute as a sharp, piercing aura gathered at his fingertips.
"Thunder Severing Finger."
A streak of lightning shot forward with terrifying speed.
Lu Haoyi barely managed to raise a defensive technique before the attack struck, the thunderous force blasting him backward. He skidded across the arena floor before coming to a halt, his defensive spell shattering like glass.
Before he could recover, Chen Ziming's finger stopped inches from his throat.
The outcome was already decided.
"I concede."
The match ended in utter clarity.
Chen Ziming wins!
He wins cleanly and overwhelmingly.
"Hmph," Chen Ziming snorted coldly as he withdrew his hand, "So this is all the Lu Family's children amount to."
With a sneer still on his face, he turned and left the arena, not sparing his defeated opponent another glance.
The words lingered in the air, sharp and humiliating, drawing uneasy looks from the surrounding Lu Family members.