…
"Otherwordly catastrophes continue to ravage our poor, poor earth, her sorrowful tears are nothing but water to you all!"
An old man dressed in brown robes cries, his arms to the sky and feet placed on the ground, his stance is one of passion.
"And you, you cultivators, are nothing but leeches! Leeches of this earth, kneeling to the heavens, but neglecting the very earth beneath your feet that you destroy without problem, did sitting in a cave for hundreds of years strip away your empathy? Your faith!?"
"Old fart, what did you just say?"
The old man and the audience around him pause as they turn towards the white robed individual that had just spoken.
"We are nothing but leeches? Neglecting the earth? Hah, What foolish words!" He continues, drawing his pristine white blade.
"We came from the earth, and the heavens had nurtured us; what's wrong with worshipping the both of them? You are nothing but a fool, a mortal jealous of our superiority!"
The old man gasps as the cultivator moves closer.
"Y-you, who are you!?" He takes a step back, and then falls on one knee.
The sound of his bones creaking echoes through the town grounds.
"Who am I? Haha, good question, my name is Ling Huang, the finest warrior of the heavens!"
His robes flow elegantly behind him as he chuckles.
"Did I say finest warrior? Haha, no way, the heavens kneel to me, Ling Huan!"
A gold aura swirls around him as he speaks those words.
"D-divine!" A member of the audience mutters, his face pale as snow.
Ling Huan turns around, smirking to himself.
"Now mortals, which way is the Great Whirlwind Sect?"
"The Great Whirlwind Sect? It's a couple hundred kilometres north." That very same audience member responds.
"Haha thank you, I'm pretty bad at directions, I am also very humble." Ling Huan pats his chest, and then his eyebrows furrow in anger.
He turns to the audience, and they feel a wave of heat wash over them.
"Who! Who just called me bad at directions? Does this esteemed cultivator look humble to you?" Ling Huan grinds his teeth, pure fury in his eyes. He's so angry that even veins pop out in his face.
"It was you, sir…" Were the last words of a short, wiry mortal before he had been melted into the earth.
"Liar! Liar! Onto the Great Whirlwind Sect, haha!" Ling Huan shakes his head and then heads north, disappearing in mere seconds from the audience's view.
An ominous purple air hangs around where the mortal had just died.
…
"The clouds in the sky are unmoving, yet moving… how contradictory is that?"
Fatty Wang's mouth hangs open as he stares at the sky.
"Brother Wang!"
Next to him Zi Rougang sighs, rubbing his forehead. "You've missed a couple of fights."
"I-I was napping?" Fatty Wang shakes his head. "How unfortunate."
"Well, who's fighting next?" Fatty Wang asks with a yawn.
"Next? That would be… Zuo Lingxin." Zi Rougang speaks in a hushed voice.
"Zuo Lingxin? Weren't you guys lovers?" Fatty Wang asks.
"No… never." Zi Rougang sighs.
"Well, can't help love." Fatty Wang shrugs, his gaze roaming over the battlefield.
"Wonder how that little girl made it to the third segment, didn't she have the same talent as me?" Fatty Wang questions.
"Yeah, there's a big mystery going on, some say she has affiliations with a high-ranking elder, others say she faked her cultivation talent." Zi Rougang replies, before inhaling sharply as the announcer speaks.
"Next battle, Zuo Lingxin versus Yang Qing."
The audience cheers as the disciples step onto the stage.
"Junior Sister Zuo, you can do this!" A grotesque disciple speaks, his chin jiggling.
"Haha, Yang Qing, that bastard!" Up in the elder stands, Han Kuang chuckles deeply.
"What's so special about this Yang Qing?" Yin Song yawns.
"Haha, he's my son!" Han Kuang spits.
"W-what!?" Yin Song nearly falls off his chair. "Your son? How come?"
"You see, there was once this very beautiful mortal woman, and…" Han Kuang chuckles as he begins his story.
"And? You impregnated her?" Yin Song's jaw drops.
"Well, how was I supposed to know cultivator seed isn't compatible with mortals? The next day, she was dead!" Han Kuang continues without hindrance.
By now, Yin Song's jaw kisses the ground. "So you just killed a mortal for absolutely no reason?"
"Haha, there was a reason, look at Yang Qing! That brat was nurtured in a dead woman's womb, he crawled out of a grave with pure infant fists and defied all expectations!" Han Kuang nods his head in approval.
"If he wins this fight, I'll take that brat as my disciple, but if he loses…" Han Kuang's eyes sharpen. "My blood never loses."
Yin Song shakes his head. "What a sad life…"
Back at the battle grounds, Zuo Lingxin stands unimpressed, almost bored.
"Let's just get this over with." She sighs, her hands moving in a delicate rhythm.
"I can sense it, you aren't pure." Yang Qing mutters, wielding a rugged stone axe marked with nicks. His eyes are shut, with a deep scar over each one.
"Hm? And how exactly can you sense that?" Zuo Lingxin responds in a playful manner with a smirk.
"Because I was born in impurity, and lived impure my entire life. I am a being lacking purity." Yang Qing takes two steps forward.
"All of us are born pure, every single human; the womb was described as 'Akin to the heavens' by the great Sage Xia." Yang Qing continues muttering.
"I myself am an impure human, what value must my words hold?" He swings his axe dismissively as he takes another two steps forward, nearing Zuo Lingxin. "Nothing."
"Enough." Zuo Lingxin speaks up, getting into a stance. "Let us fight already."
The tension is unnerving as they stand against each other.
"You are right. Let us fight." Yang Qing sighs, and then leaps towards Zuo Lingxin, swinging his axe.
"Tsk… how brutish, fitting for someone like you." Zuo Lingxin giggles as she stands strong against Yang Qing's charge.
The audience goes wild after hearing their pre-match conversation.
"How deep, words that bring tears to a man's eyes!" A cowardish disciple declares, standing bravely.
"I've heard that Zuo Lingxin was kind and pure when she first arrived at the sect… I wonder what happened to her…" Another disciple sadly mentions, disappointment evident in his expression.
"She was, until…" Zi Rougang who was next to the disciple starts, but does not finish his sentence.
"What exactly happened to her, don't tell me she was traumatised by the event that had occurred…" He mutters to himself.
His gaze lands on Yang Qing.
"And this man… it all seems so wrong, I need to get to the bottom of this." He shakes his head, his usual nonchalance and arrogance already fading away.
"I'm a cultivator, not a child." He turns to Fatty Wang, and notices his distraught expression.
"We, as cultivators, should be loyal and faithful. Brother Wang, looking into your gaze fills me with determination!"
Zi Rougang nods his head and laughs.
"There are many more battles to come, those we will fight with brave spirits!"
…