With the conclusion of the second round, only seven disciples remained.
Disciple Lu once again ascended the stage, a slightly weary smile tugging at his lips — as if wondering how many more rounds of dramatic narration his throat could survive.
"Esteemed Elders and overexcited fellow disciples!" he announced. "We now enter the quarterfinal phase of our tournament!"
"But first…" he paused for dramatic tension, "...you already know what's coming."
A ripple of laughter and light groans passed through the audience.
Yes. That time again.
With a twinkle in his eye and a groan, Lu reached into his space ring and pulled out the now-infamous board — the flashy, shimmering Wheel of Free Ticket.
The gamblers tensed.
The casual watchers leaned forward.
Spiritual stones were passed under the table.
Lu spun the board.
Colors flashed. Names flickered. Background music played. Suspense rose.
And then, as if the heavens themselves had decided to have a little fun…
MING TIANMEI
Her name appeared again in glowing, golden script — complete with bells and celebratory sparkles.
The arena fell silent.
Someone in the back coughed.
"…Again?"
"No way!"
"She's cheating. She has to be cheating."
"I lost thirty spirit stones on this draw!"
"She's gotta be a reincarnated Luck Goddess, right?"
From the Universal talismans across the clan, the group chat exploded.
[MoonPeach]: THIS ISN'T A TOURNAMENT IT'S A LUCK DRAW
[FurnaceBoy444]: I'm never betting again.
[MoKi000]: She must be in cahoots with the wheel.
[TournamentElder]: Mo Ki, shut up.
The Tournament Elder, was a chill guy.
In the crowd, disciples ate at food stall tables chatting about it.
Lu, clearing his throat and doing his best to hide a smirk, continued professionally.
"And thus… Ming Tianmei advances to the semifinals."
The formations zoomed in on her again, hoping for even the tiniest twitch.
But no.
She remained serene, otherworldly, and as expressive as a snow lotus in meditation.
Lu sighed inwardly. "Next, let us proceed with the remaining three matches!"
Then the matches.
The board flashed — two names appeared.
Lin Fan vs. Yu Hao
Lin Fan stepped forward, calm and steady as always.
Across from him, Yu Hao stood tall — the bulky disciple known for his sheer physical strength.
The match began with a clash of styles.
Yu Hao charged like a beast, attempting to overpower with brute force.
But Lin Fan?
He moved like wind wrapped around stone.
Every strike was deflected, redirected.
His sword moved in tight arcs, cutting through Yu Hao's momentum.
In the final exchange, Yu Hao swung wide — and Lin Fan slid beneath, striking the back of his knee with the hilt of his sword.
Yu Hao fell to one knee, and Lin Fan's blade stopped inches from his throat.
"Match point" he said coolly.
"Winner Lin Fan!" Lu called.
Applause echoed. A clean win.
Next, the shimmering board lit again.
Yu Xueqing vs. Yu Ruo
Yu Xueqing, the blade dancer, stepped forward in silence.
Her opponent, Yu Ruo — a senior inner disciple with a solid reputation — nodded in greeting, gripping a broad saber.
Their clash was fast.
Beautiful.
Deadly.
Yu Xueqing danced across the platform.
Yu Ruo struck hard and wild, hoping to catch her in his wide arcs.
But she weaved through them like water.
Her twin blades moved like silver threads sewing the air.
A flick. A twist.
Yu Ruo's sleeve tore.
A palm strike landed on his chest — gentle, but firm enough to knock the breath out of him.
He staggered back.
"I concede," he said respectfully.
Lu nodded, raising his hand.
"Winner Yu Xueqing!"
And now…
"Final match of the quarterfinals!" Lu declared.
Yu Xuan vs. Yu Zhen
Yu Xuan groaned as his name flashed across the board.
"Last again. I knew it."
He stretched, sighed, and walked toward the platform like a man heading to file taxes.
His opponent, Yu Zhen, stood already in position. Calm. Well-prepared.
Unlike the last one, this one didn't run.
"Let's have a good match," Lei Zhen said politely.
Yu Xuan nodded, finally getting serious. He wouldn't use Avalon Swordsmanship this time — just his martial skill.
The match began.
Lei Zhen moved first, striking with precise footwork and controlled jabs.
Yu Xuan parried each, using his footwork — pivots, sidesteps, small rotations.
He wasn't faster.
But he was smoother.
Strike by strike, he adapted. His sword flicked with minimal effort, making Lei Zhen overstep again and again.
And then — a feint.
Yu Xuan dipped under a slash, rolled forward, and tapped Lei Zhen's back lightly with the flat of his blade.
"Point."
Yu Zhen exhaled.
"…I concede."
Lu raised his hand one last time.
"Winner Yu Xuan!"
Now, only four names remained.
Ming Tianmei, untouched and divine.
Lin Fan, relentless and disciplined.
Yu Xueqing, graceful and deadly.
Yu Xuan, wild card and brat with hidden fangs.
As the semifinals approached, tension hung in the air like mist before a storm.
And across the clan, everyone knew—
This would be interesting.