Chapter Sixty-three: A Duel of Life and Death

Wolf hair! Lin Xiaobao came to a conclusion: in the end, the wolf-hair brush was simply too poor in quality, making it impossible to complete the inscription of a top-grade Yellow-level talisman. To accomplish any task, one must first sharpen their tools. Lin Xiaobao could only shake his head helplessly; it seemed that before he could craft an array-carving blade, he would first have to refine a wolf-hair brush—at least one of top-grade magical weapon quality—to meet his needs.

For now, the beast soul talisman was beyond his reach. With tomorrow's competition in mind, Lin Xiaobao took out another wolf-hair brush, first removed the thousandfold gravity array on his body, then began to inscribe the Misty Cloud Tracing Array to increase speed, the Azure Flame White Tiger Array to enhance attack…

In short, anticipating tomorrow’s confrontation with Long Xingtian, who had already stepped into the first stage of the Spiritual Path, Lin Xiaobao covered his body with densely packed runes, inscribing nearly all the arrays he could currently manage.

When the final array was complete, Lin Xiaobao suddenly fell into deep thought. It was as if, during that focused process, he had once again brushed against the mysterious and profound Heavenly Dao.

Yet, just as before, when he tried to grasp that fleeting sense, he caught nothing.

Sunlight streamed through the window, tickling his face with a faint itch. Stretching lazily, Lin Xiaobao stepped out of his room.

As he opened the door, he found Lin Tian and Wang Dashan already waiting outside. Seeing Lin Tian, Lin Xiaobao looked slightly surprised. “Why are you here?”

“For today’s battle, do what you can. If you find yourself outmatched, withdraw. As for competing for the position of Pavilion Master, you don’t need to—” Lin Xiaobao’s efforts over the past two years had not gone unnoticed by Lin Tian. However, the discussions in the Wind and Snow Hall over the past few days had already sealed his fate: the seat of Pavilion Master was beyond his reach.

“Isn’t it just the fifth stage of the Spiritual Path?” Lin Xiaobao’s eyes flashed with determination. “I’m not afraid!”

Lin Tian sighed, as if wanting to say more, but instead changed the subject. “Let’s be on our way…”

“Perhaps losing to Long Xingtian won’t be a bad thing for Xiaobao,” Lin Tian thought to himself, feeling a pang of sorrow as he watched Lin Xiaobao’s expression.

But in his eyes, Lin Xiaobao’s defeat was inevitable. After all, he understood better than anyone the chasm between the Spiritual Path and an innate martial artist.

No matter how powerful, an innate martial artist is still just a martial artist, forever confined within the bounds of martial prowess. The Spiritual Path, however, points directly to the Dao Heart. Even stepping into its first stage elevates one beyond the realm of mere martial arts, transforming them into a true cultivator.

And what do cultivators pursue? The Dao itself! Martial arts are but a tiny offshoot of the Dao. How can one compare the two? How can they contest?

“Brother Xiaobao, be careful!” Even Wang Dashan, who had always been blindly confident in Lin Xiaobao, refrained from his usual encouragement.

“I understand,” Lin Xiaobao nodded. In fact, he felt somewhat pleased that Wang Dashan was no longer blindly trusting him. With Wang Dashan’s own cultivation steadily improving, it seemed his mind was also growing sharper. Though still a bit simple, he was much more sensible than before.

The three of them sped through the wind, soon appearing before the Hall of Everlasting Hope. As soon as Lin Xiaobao entered, he sensed several powerful auras sweeping over him. Following them with his gaze, he saw the Pavilion Master and the other four elders seated in the viewing stands.

Why aren’t Hua Xiaotian and Ao Wuchen here? Lin Xiaobao frowned. By rights, even if those two were proud, they should have come to the Hall of Everlasting Hope to witness the strength displayed in today’s match.

“Lin Xiaobao, Lin Xiaobao…”

As Lin Tian walked toward the stands, a crowd of disciples rushed over, calling out Lin Xiaobao’s name with excitement—evidently his devoted fans.

“Senior Brother Lin, if you win against Long Xingtian today, I’ll invite you to my room for drinks tonight…” a lovestruck female disciple threw him a flirtatious glance.

Immediately, a number of disciples jeered, “I doubt it’ll stop at just drinks…”

Being so directly confessed to by a young woman, Lin Xiaobao was in high spirits. He glanced at her, then straightened his expression and said solemnly, “Junior sister, please show some self-respect. I’m participating in the Pavilion Tournament only to test the results of my usual training.”

His words immediately won the admiration of many disciples. However, when their eyes shifted to the young woman, it suddenly became clear why Lin Xiaobao had responded as he did.

Still, the disciples’ respect for Lin Xiaobao grew—this time for his self-control. With her looks, if a less disciplined senior brother had been in his place, he might well have slapped her away already.

Suddenly, a fierce wind swept through. Long Xingtian had appeared on the stage without anyone noticing. “Do you really think you have a chance of defeating me?”

Standing atop the stage, Long Xingtian’s eyes glittered with a strange, demonic light as he looked down on Lin Xiaobao with disdain. “With your ninth-stage innate martial cultivation?”

“Does higher cultivation always mean victory?” Lin Xiaobao faced him without the slightest hint of fear. In a flash, he too stood on the stage. While not as eerie as Long Xingtian, his speed surpassed what any ninth-stage innate martial artist should possess. “If that were true, what’s the point of a tournament? We might as well just compare cultivation levels directly.”

“Sharp-tongued!” Long Xingtian turned to the stands, bowed respectfully, and asked, “Elder, may we begin?”

Today’s finals featured only him and Lin Xiaobao, so there was no need for drawing lots or organizing matches.

“You may begin,” the Grand Elder said, glancing at Lin Xiaobao before adding, “To have reached the finals, you are both elite members of the Wind and Snow Pavilion. I hope your match today does not go too far.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill him,” Long Xingtian replied with a wicked smile. He lowered his voice toward Lin Xiaobao, “But I will make you wish you were dead.”

As soon as his words fell, Long Xingtian vanished. He reappeared three feet to Lin Xiaobao’s right, his dark hand striking directly at Lin Xiaobao’s chest. There was no flourish, only an overwhelming speed that made it impossible to follow.

Fast! Too fast! From the moment he stepped onto the stage, Lin Xiaobao had kept his spiritual sense locked onto Long Xingtian. Now, as the attack came, his first impression was sheer speed—his opponent was simply too fast!

The many arrays inscribed on his body had already been activated. The instant Long Xingtian moved, Lin Xiaobao moved as well—not back, but forward—his Seven Star Sword slicing out dozens of times, not aiming for vital points but targeting only the hand that Long Xingtian had extended.

Before he truly understood the strength of the first stage of the Spiritual Path, Lin Xiaobao dared not try to force Long Xingtian back with a single stroke. Caution was still wise.

With a clang, Lin Xiaobao’s sword suddenly halted. The tip of the Seven Star Sword was pinched between Long Xingtian’s fingers. No matter how hard Lin Xiaobao tried, he could not advance an inch.

A powerful force surged along the blade, and Lin Xiaobao felt his sword-wielding hand go instantly numb, as if struck by lightning—losing all sensation in a heartbeat.