13: Establishing dominance in the first battle, aiming for the top ten.

"Two!"

The One-eyed Steward's count was still echoing across the Training Grounds when a sturdy figure, like an iron tower, leaped onto the Arena Stage. Lin Bao was bare-chested, his bronze skin showing clearly defined muscles. Every step he took caused the bluestone slabs to tremble slightly. He was a famous fierce general from the collateral branch of the Lin Family. Although he was only at the Peak of the Acquired Fifth Layer, his 'Fierce Ox Strength' technique was practiced with roaring vigor. At this moment, his eyes were wide and round, fixed intently on Lin Hao, who sat on the tenth chair.

"Lin Hao, I'm taking that spot!"

Before the roar finished, Lin Bao charged forward like a mad bull, alternating his fists in a barrage. The whooshing sound of tearing air aimed straight for Lin Hao's face. Where the fist wind swept, the dust on the ground was lifted half a foot high. Clearly, he was determined to seize the initiative while his opponent had just settled down and his breathing was still uneven.

Lin Hao's expression shifted slightly. The Soft Sword at his waist slid out of its sheath with a *clang*, but he did not rush to attack. Instead, he tapped his toes and retreated three feet, avoiding the fist's edge. At the same time, he flipped his wrist, and the sword tip drew a silver arc in the sunlight, stabbing directly beneath Lin Bao's ribs. Although he was only at the Early Stage of the Acquired Sixth Layer, he was skilled in the Dao of using cleverness to defeat clumsiness. The True Essence of the 'Silk-Winding Hand' circulated perfectly.

"Clang!"

The fist and the sword body collided, producing a muffled sound. Lin Bao only felt a numbness spread across his fist, and he was startled to realize that although his opponent's True Essence was not as dense as his own, it was condensed like a steel needle. He roared, sweeping both arms horizontally. The resulting fierce wind actually shook the wooden chairs nearby. "Fierce Ox Wags Tail!"

Lin Hao neither dodged nor avoided. The Soft Sword suddenly became pliable like a rope, wrapping three times around his opponent's arm. The sword tip pointed directly at Lin Bao's throat. This Move, "Spirit Snake Wraps Tree," forced Lin Bao to retract his attack and retreat, immediately exposing a flaw in his defense.

The two exchanged more than ten Moves in an instant, Fist Shadows and sword light intertwining into a net on the Arena Stage. Lin Bao's fist smashed into the ground, and the bluestones cracked in response; Lin Hao's Soft Sword slashed past a wooden chair, sending wood chips flying like snowflakes. The crowd below the stage watched, dazzled, as discussions rose and fell.

"Lin Bao's punching power must weigh a thousand catties!"

"Lin Hao's sword technique is even better. Look at his footwork; he always steps on the Seven Star positions, never straying even slightly!"

"A winner is about to be decided!"

Just as the words fell, the situation on the stage changed abruptly. Lin Bao's heavy punch missed. Just as his old strength was spent and new strength had not yet been generated, Lin Hao suddenly abandoned his sword and used his palms. His hands wrapped around his opponent's thick arms like two green snakes. "Silk-Winding Hand - Twist!" Pale green True Essence circulated in his palms, flowing backward along Lin Bao's Meridians.

"Ugh!" Lin Bao felt his arm become numb and weak. His massive body was actually thrown off balance by a burst of skillful force, and he stumbled backward toward the edge of the Arena Stage. He roared, trying to regain his footing, but his right foot stepped into empty air, half his body suspended over the ground below the stage.

A cold light flashed in Lin Hao's eyes. He closed in, condensing three inches of True Essence in his right palm, and slammed it fiercely into Lin Bao's back. "Get down there!"

"Thud!"

Lin Bao fell onto the sand below the stage like a broken sack of rice, kicking up a cloud of dust, unable to get up for a long time. Lin Hao then picked up his Soft Sword, returned it to its sheath, and cupped his hands toward the audience, saying, "Thank you for the concession." A hint of smugness was on his face. He adjusted his collar and sat back down on the tenth chair, though the knuckles gripping the armrest were slightly white—the intense battle had taken a toll on him too.

"Ten Breaths are up! The first round is over! Lin Hao successfully defended the stage!" The One-eyed Steward struck the Gong, his hoarse voice echoing across the entire venue.

After a brief silence, two figures simultaneously leaped onto different Arena Stages. Lin Yuan challenged the seventh chair, and Lin Cheng challenged the fifth chair. Immediately, the crisp sound of clashing weapons rang out in two places across the Training Grounds. Lin Dongliu still had his eyes closed, resting, his fingertips lightly tapping the armrest; Lin Shaoxiong watched the proceedings with great interest, occasionally offering a comment or two; Lin Bing simply pulled out a piece of dry ration, eating and watching, as if sitting securely on a fishing platform.

Lin Dongping sat extremely restlessly on the fourth chair. He occasionally glanced toward the crowd, seeing Lin Yang still standing in place, a sneer curling his lips—Trash is trash; they only hide in the back and watch the show.

Lin Yang was indeed watching the show, but his gaze was sharper than anyone else's. He noticed that Lin Shaoxiong's breathing corresponded to the changes in Moves on the Arena Stage, clearly taking the opportunity to analyze; Lin Bing looked careless, but his feet were consistently stepping on defensive points; and Lin Feng, who had just defeated Lin Yuan and taken the seventh chair, had his left pinky finger trembling slightly when retracting his Move, indicating that his old injury on his left arm had not yet healed.

"Now is the time."

Just as Lin Feng sat down, panting heavily, and before he could even take a drink of water, Lin Yang moved.

He did not leap up like the others. Instead, he walked onto the Arena Stage step by step, his dark-colored tight-fitting suit reflecting a cold light in the sun. Every step landed precisely in the center of a bluestone seam—not fast, but possessing a strange rhythm, as if merging with the very breath of the Training Grounds.

The clamor of the entire venue suddenly paused for half a beat. All eyes focused on this suddenly appearing figure—Lin Yang, the one who once couldn't even stabilize his Qi Sense and was called "trash," was now standing in front of the seventh chair.

"Is that him?"

"Has he gone mad? Lin Feng just beat Lin Yuan. Although he expended a lot of energy, he is still at the Middle Stage of the Sixth Layer!"

"He did win against Li Shuangyu at the Shen Family banquet, but that must have been luck, right?"

Discussions surged like a tide. Lin Dongping's triangular eyes instantly widened, and he leaned close to Lin Dongliu's ear, whispering, "Big Brother, it's this brat! He was the one who beat me up last time!"

Lin Dongliu slowly opened his eyes, a cold light flashing across them. "Just a clown. Lin Feng will let him know what the real gap is." Shen Shuanghua, who was beside him, set down her teacup. Her fingers, tucked under her moonlight-white cloak, curled slightly. A hint of curiosity flashed in her beautiful eyes—the aura emanating from this young man was more solidified than it had been at the Shen Family banquet.

On the Viewing Platform, Lin Hongfeng's hand, holding the teacup, paused slightly, causing ripples in the tea foam. A trace of sinister gloom flashed in his eyes, and his fingers tightened around a certain Token hidden in his sleeve.

At the edge of the crowd, Bai Wanqing's light veil swayed slightly. The crescent moon token at her waist emitted a faint silver light. Her gaze, cold as an ancient well beneath the veil, was fixed firmly on Lin Yang, as if she wanted to see through the circulation of every strand of True Essence within his body.

Lin Yang was oblivious to all of this. He stood before Lin Feng, who had just recovered from his astonishment, his face flushed red. "You... you want to challenge me?"

"Lin Yang."

The young man's voice was as calm as a frozen lake, betraying no emotion. He slightly raised his hand, pointing toward the mahogany chair that still held residual warmth. Every word clearly spread throughout the Training Grounds:

"I challenge the seventh position."

The wind blew across the Training Grounds, sweeping up dry leaves from the ground, brushing against the carved wooden legs of the ten mahogany chairs, making a faint rustling sound. Everyone held their breath, watching how this former "trash" would stir up the first true storm.

Lin Feng abruptly stood up, his right hand pressing on the Long Saber at his waist. His face turned from red to green. "Good! Very good! Today, I will teach you that not just anyone can presumptuously discuss the top ten positions!"

The True Essence within his body began to boil, and a faint golden Saber Glow faintly flickered within the sheath—that was the Lin Family's 'Golden Saber Art,' renowned for its sharpness.

Lin Yang, however, remained standing still. The Five-Element True Essence quietly circulated within his Dantian, waiting for the best moment to strike. He knew this battle was not just for the chair, but also to shatter the "trash" stigma imposed upon him.

The One-eyed Steward raised the Gong, and his hoarse voice sounded again: "The challenge begins!"

Before the sound of the Gong faded, Lin Feng's Long Saber was drawn like lightning!