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Dao of Healing - Chapter 147
🕑 Added 2025-06-12 15:09:19 +0000 UTC“Foolish kid. Should learn to obey his own limits. Then again
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“Foolish kid. Should learn to obey his own limits. Then again, I have a soft spot for fools who push through everything in their path,” Wang Ren chuckled as Teng Sheng and the mohawk-wearing disciple were knocked out of the arena by the female disciple’s blizzard technique. “Though it will be tough for any of those brats to beat Pei Kexin. She’s a cultivation maniac.”
“That’s the one who used the ice and wind techniques?” I asked for clarification.
“Indeed. She has a solid work ethic, but she doesn’t have many friends. Could do with finding a few hobbies,” Wang Ren replied.
“You’re one to talk. Every time I see you, you’re either training your glaive arts or cultivating,” I quipped.
He shrugged in response, knowing when he was defeated. I made a mental note to keep an eye on this Pei Kexin. Another future asset.
Once the second round was completed, the third round began the moment the stages of the arena were repaired. I didn’t recognise most of the disciples in groups eleven to fifteen.
There were also eleven per stage rather than the ten that the first ten groups had. These battles were likely to be more chaotic, so I was sure to enjoy the show regardless.
Wang Ren helped me out as the battles unfolded, pointing out notable disciples as they knocked their rivals out of bounds or consciousness. While I wanted to make an effort to know and appreciate each disciple in the sect, I knew it would become harder and harder the larger it grew.
My role was to be a shining example to these young cultivators and to develop the techniques they would use to change the world in my wake. Of course the disciples who became members of the inner sect would meet me and work closer with me than the rest, but that was a given.
Having greater access to one’s elders was just one advantage they would receive alongside greater resource allocation. I wanted to establish a fair distribution to all the disciples, but investing more in those who would give greater returns was simple maths.
Despite most of the disciples fighting being Body Tempering practitioners, I was able to observe many techniques I had never seen before. It might be useful in future to know what kind of enemies I was facing and the techniques they wielded, as all spiritual arts had roots in the lower realms of cultivation.
It took a little over an hour for the third round of the preliminaries to finish. The five disciples who emerged victorious were all ones I didn’t recognise. Wang Ren did, however, know them all and seemed fairly unsurprised at their victory.
They consisted of three peak Body Tempering practitioners and two one-star Qi Gathering cultivators. This was roughly the level of cultivation that all the winning disciples had, bar a few exceptions.
With that done, all that remained before moving onto the knockout tournament—which was the most highly anticipated part of the competition for many of the spectators—was for the second place disciples from each group to fight once more to claim the final spot in the tournament. Of the fifteen disciples participating, I would be watching Teng Sheng most keenly.
There would be a short break before it began. This was to allow the disciples who’d just fought in the third round of preliminaries to recover their strength.
It was only fair to them to have this break, given that the disciples from the earlier groups had already used the time since their loss to recover and reflect. I was curious to see whether they would simply use the same strategies and techniques or try something new.
Teng Sheng did not possess an affinity for any of the elements, which meant he was limited to pure martial techniques and his own raw cultivation. That would be challenging when he was facing opponents with superior cultivation and techniques.
It was time to see if Wang Ren’s training had paid off. The former young master of Three River City had almost claimed victory in his preliminary battle. Perhaps against other second place disciples he would succeed where he had failed before.
****
The break passed in the blink of an eye. It felt as though I’d barely moved, passing the time conversing with Yu Chun and Wang Ren.
The latter rose into the sky to announce the start of the battle. He wanted to give a bit of motivation to the fifteen disciples on the central stage, given that this was their final chance at becoming an inner disciple.
If they lost here, they would remain an ordinary disciple of the Grasping Life Sect for the foreseeable future. I planned to make these competitions a regular event, but I wasn’t sure I would open it to the public the next time. At least, not the full event.
Wang Ren raised his arms, palms facing out towards the crowd. They all fell silent, gazing up at him with awe, admiration, and envy written on their faces.
Everyone wished to fly.
“You have seen the proud disciples of the Grasping Life Sect battle one another to claim the first fifteen spots in the knockout tournament. The victor of that tournament will become a figure of renown in this sect and this part of the world. All will know their name!” Wang Ren roared, letting his words hang in the air before he continued.
“However, there is one final spot in the tournament to be filled. Those disciples who didn’t quite manage to claw victory from the jaws of defeat will have one final chance to earn glory for themselves. The second place disciples will now battle until only one remains. Disciples, you have worked yourselves to the bone for the past year—some of you even longer. Show me what that effort is worth! Fight!”
The moment his voice faded, the fifteen disciples sprung into action. Some started preparing techniques, others withdrew talismans and artifacts, while the most bold of all simply drew their weapons and charged at their nearest rivals.
It was chaotic, yet ordered. There were various tensions at play. Some disciples disliked certain others and made a beeline for their chosen enemies.
While two disciples fought, others schemed from behind, hoping to catch the victor as they revelled in their minor win. The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind, as the saying goes.
Teng Sheng, despite facing fatigue and defeat during his last battle, was employing the same strategy. He was not a masterful tactician—despite being the former heir of a city lord—but instead a straightforward fighter. He wore his intentions in his fists.
That was a weakness in many regards, but it was also a great strength. The way he fought, putting everything on the line for his victory, reminded me of Wang Ren. He managed to defeat a female disciple wielding a short battle-staff, knocking her off the edge of the arena with a sharp and vicious kick.
He was then immediately forced on the defensive as two talismans flew towards him, exploding in his face. The one who’d thrown them was unrelenting, moving in for the knockout the moment they’d let the paper tools fly.
To be completely honest, I was getting rather bored. Not to insult my disciples who were putting their everything on the line, but fighting was something I mostly did out of necessity—to defend my own or others’ lives, or to advance my skills when there was no other option.
I understood it was the mindset of a fool to avoid fighting entirely. Sometimes you had to fight to protect what was yours, and what was right. However, watching similar, staged battles on repeat wasn’t the most thrilling activity.
For me, at least. Wang Ren was glued to the battle, loving every moment. He had trained each and every one of these disciples and seeing them put those efforts on the line must mean a lot more to him than it did to me.
I imagined when the time came for the healing competition to begin, our roles would be reversed. I didn’t want to miss a single moment of that, but Wang Ren would likely be content to lean back and watch the clouds as the healing disciples showed off their prowess.
Within forty minutes, the battle was already down to just three disciples. It was progressing faster than most of the other preliminaries. There were a few reasons why that might be—the disciples already being tired or knowing there was no second chances if they lost here—but they mattered little when compared to how much the disciples wanted the win.
Teng Sheng was one of the final three. A familiar scenario to his first battle, except unlike then, his opponents were a more even match for him.
None of them were in the Qi Gathering Realm. Teng Sheng was still the lowest realm practitioner of the three—his opponents were an eight-star and a nine-star Body Temperer.
Both wielded swords. Had fairly standard appearances—not faces that I would pick out of a crowd. To come this far, they were certainly among the top disciples of the sect, but unless they won, they couldn’t truly consider themselves one of the elites.
The three were locked in a sort of triangular duel. Teng Sheng was using his reinforced body to deflect sword slashes and thrusts while punching and kicking back when he saw gaps to exploit. This went on for a few minutes, each of the disciples gradually becoming more tired.
Then, something awful happened. Awful for Teng Sheng, anyway. I was rooting for the kid, but if he lost here it wouldn’t matter much. He had a far greater future in store for him than the other disciples—my experimental research would make sure of that.
Right as the other two disciples had been thrusting their swords at one another, Teng Sheng had stepped in to exploit a moment of weakness. He clearly saw a way to bring one of his enemies low and struck without hesitation.
Except, the vulnerability he’d seen was a performance. Right before the swords of his two enemies were about to clash, both disciples suddenly pivoted. Instead of striking at each other, both of them were stabbing their blades towards Teng Sheng.
His eyes went wide as he realised the trap he’d been baited into. There was little time for him to react.
While I knew this one competition wasn’t everything, I was sure Teng Sheng didn’t feel the same. Young people often saw stakes as being far grander than they were. To him, missing out on the chance to become the first martial inner disciple of the sect would be akin to throwing away his life.
So when those two swords turned on him, I could see the emotional journey he went through in a single breath. Shock, betrayal, fear, worry, annoyance, rage, and then finally, determination.
As those two swords inched closer to his chest, I felt his blood essence stir. He may only be a six-star Body Temperer right now, but he’d been at the peak of the same realm not long ago. Those instincts remained.
To achieve great things, sacrifice was required. Rather than attempt to dodge the two swords, which would only leave him in a worse position facing off against two enemies when he didn’t have a weapon of his own, Teng Sheng leapt forward into the path of the blades.
The two sword-wielding disciples seemed a little surprised at his actions, but they hid it well. Their strikes continued unimpeded. They were originally intended to maim, not kill. Killing another disciple was forbidden in this competition, after all.
That ended up being to Teng Sheng’s advantage. He shifted his body even further. One of the swords simply grazed his robe, carving apart the green fabric, yet missing his torso entirely.
The other bit into his flesh, drawing blood, but missing bone or vital organs. His gambit had worked, but he still needed to make it count.
There was only a brief window of time between the attacks failing to severely wound him and his opponents changing strategies. Even in the Body Tempering Realm, cultivators had a much greater reaction speed and movement speed than mortals. Battles could be decided in the blink of an eye.
As this battle was being decided right now.
Teng Sheng knew this was his best chance to claim victory. He could have tried to take out both his opponents in a single strike, but given the gulf in their cultivation it was likely impossible.
The boy planted his forward foot in a great lung, then sprung off the stone floor of the stage. His other leg ripped upwards, leaving a ripple in the air behind it.
His foot cracked into the jaw of the nine-star female disciple. Her head snapped backwards and her eyes rolled into her head. The sword fell to the ground as her grip loosened around it.
Teng Sheng was vicious, but in a necessary manner. As she fell, her hand shot out towards the sword’s handle. Somehow, she was still conscious. Yet it was pointless to struggle.
Teng Sheng’s foot descended from the kick. He smashed his heel into her gut and she was flung into the stone floor of the stage with a deafening boom. She didn’t get up from that.
All this had happened in just a second. The other disciple who’d attempted to bait and trap Teng Sheng reacted fast. His initial strike had been the one which missed Teng Sheng’s body entirely. He’d been thrown off balance, but used the momentum to pivot.
He slashed at Teng Sheng while he was still facing the other way, attempting once more to catch the boy off guard. Unfortunately for him, the former young master was ready for an ambush.
He ducked, almost instinctively, the sword passing over his head. He leapt to one side. The swordsman recovered and the two began a vicious dance.
Cut, thrust, slash.
Kick, jab, pivot.
Both sought an opening through which they would cement their victory. Second place in this battle wasn’t an option. There were no more consolation rounds through which to earn a spot in the knockout tournament. It was victory or the shame of failure.
That was when a familiar boundary appeared around the arena. Wang Ren had once more used his Glaive Intent to force the disciples’ hands.
A dodge in the wrong direction could prove lethal. Retreat became less of an option, forcing both disciples on the offensive.
Teng Sheng was tiring, but so was his foe. I saw the relentless determination in both of their gazes. They were giving it their all.
The boundary closed around them. I noticed it was advancing much faster than it had the previous times Wang Ren used it. That was clearly on purpose, though I wondered how much it would affect the outcome.
As it closed, attacks that they might have dodged, they now were forced to parry or even take in order to deliver counter attacks. Cuts and bruises appeared over their bodies at a rapid rate. The boundary was now so small that they barely had more space to move than that which their bodies occupied.
It was brutal, like a cage fight taken to an extreme level. The crowd was salivating, yet silent, eager to see the outcome of this clash.
Then, one of the two disciples slipped. The other lunged and struck. Then the unthinkable happened. The crowd gasped, then burst out into roaring cheers.
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