Chapter Three: Contribution Points

Chen Qi held the blade in his right hand, his fingers poised at his navel, the edge parallel to his body, the tip raised above his head. His stance was eerie, and it seemed impossible for him to block Sun Ruohai’s ferocious, blood-fueled thrust. The spectators below could not help but cry out:

“Brother Sun, stay your hand—!”

Their voices were abruptly silenced as Chen Qi’s figure darted aside, evading the sword. The vertical blade spun and sliced toward Sun Ruohai’s sword-wielding wrist, then with a deft flick, Chen Qi sent Sun Ruohai’s sword flying. Sun Ruohai was now exposed, and Chen Qi seized the opportunity, channeling strength into his left hand and driving a fist into Sun Ruohai’s abdomen, sending him hurtling backward.

Chen Qi repositioned his blade into a comfortable stance, noticing a smear of blood along the edge. Sun Ruohai’s wrist had not yet mastered the art of the Azure Cloud Hand and was wounded by Chen Qi’s blade. Yet, when his left fist struck, it felt as though he’d punched a piece of resilient sponge. Though Sun Ruohai had been thrown back, he was hardly injured.

It was worth noting that Chen Qi’s previous strike had caused the blade to draw blood from Sun Ruohai’s palm, triggering the weapon’s special effect and resulting in the flawless blow.

At this point, the battle had shifted in Chen Qi’s favor. Sun Ruohai was disarmed, his left palm wounded, his right wrist injured, and he seemed to have little fight left. But Chen Qi did not relax his guard. He acted swiftly, the blade’s blood-stained effect flaring again as he slashed at Sun Ruohai.

Sun Ruohai hastily brought his hands together, attempting to trap the blade between his Azure Cloud Hands. Seeing Sun Ruohai’s intent, Chen Qi smiled faintly; the blade’s speed slowed so strangely that it seemed almost still, only to accelerate swiftly once Sun Ruohai’s hands were joined. The blade struck Sun Ruohai’s left wrist, carving a deep wound.

Yet Sun Ruohai showed no sign of despair. He spat a spray of blood toward Chen Qi’s eyes. Caught off guard, Chen Qi’s vision was seared with pain; he was temporarily blinded. Despite this, he knew the blade must not pause, and his strikes grew all the fiercer—but he hit only air.

The disciples below saw Sun Ruohai kneel, his hands laced with blood, aiming a blow at Chen Qi’s groin. Just as he was about to land the strike, Sun Ruohai’s attack faltered; he raised his fist three inches higher, delivering a blow squarely to Chen Qi’s lower abdomen.

A sound rang out, like a battered leather hide, as Chen Qi was sent flying, agony wracking his abdomen, impossible to describe. He felt his stomach and intestines spasming, the pain so intense he could not stand, and the wound at his waist reopened.

Sun Ruohai spoke:

“I take back what I said about you wasting your time learning martial arts as a menial disciple. I am willing to call you a friend, but I cannot let you keep this blade!”

He began to walk toward Chen Qi.

Sweat poured from Chen Qi’s brow in great beads, the pain rolling over him in waves. He gritted his teeth, determined not to falter; he knew this was no friendly bout, and a misstep would halve his main quest reward, perhaps even cost him his life in the increasingly difficult worlds to come...

“...Hiss... hiss...” Chen Qi sounded like a venomous serpent, attempting to ease the pain. Unnoticed, he had managed to stand once more.

“My opponent is unarmed, but I still have a blade,” he thought, forcing his mind to work at lightning speed to distract from the agony. “His clothing has some trick to it—it absorbs much of the force.”

With this realization, Chen Qi attacked again.

His pain caused a flaw in his swordplay, and Sun Ruohai seized the opening. Sun Ruohai punched the blade, knocking it aside, and his other fist swung toward Chen Qi’s chest.

With a crash, Chen Qi was forced to meet Sun Ruohai’s blood-tinged fist. The result: Chen Qi staggered back, his left hand’s bones fractured.

“Should I use my trump card?” he asked himself, unwilling, then dismissed the thought. He believed he could win.

As the spasms in his abdomen eased, Chen Qi grew eerily calm—a deep, almost mad composure. He licked blood from the corner of his mouth, pressed the blade against his bleeding waist, and, finding the blood too slow to flow, smeared it purposefully to trigger the blood effect again.

The tearing pain in his waist only heightened his ferocity. Chen Qi’s blade flashed faster, pressing Sun Ruohai into a defensive posture.

He repeated his earlier tactic, striking with a blade that seemed both swift and sluggish. Sun Ruohai was no longer composed; he guarded his chest with one hand, the other reaching to repeat the earlier move.

Chen Qi drew a deep breath, and his rapid blade seemed to freeze.

Sun Ruohai’s hand missed its mark, but he remained unflustered, his other hand slowly pushing toward Chen Qi, confident that the blade could not evade him again.

Ordinarily, Chen Qi could not have managed it—but he had a surge of focused clarity!

As the skill took hold, he entered a state of heightened neural sensitivity. In that instant, his blade surged forward, aiming for Sun Ruohai’s throat before Sun Ruohai’s hand could reach him.

At that moment, Chen Qi sensed a message from the “Germination Space,” but he had no time to check it.

Sun Ruohai’s other hand barely managed to strike the blade, trying to deflect its path. But under the skill’s effect, Chen Qi forced his arm to defy its natural reflexes, absorbing the force of Sun Ruohai’s blow. After a brief tremor, his blade continued its path toward Sun Ruohai’s vital throat.

Sun Ruohai could not dodge, and his first hand reached for Chen Qi’s waist in a desperate bid for mutual destruction.

A clash of metal rang out as Chen Qi felt his blade strike something as hard as gold or iron, and a gentle but irresistible force pushed him backward.

Suddenly, a white-haired elder interposed himself between Chen Qi and Sun Ruohai. With one hand, he pressed Chen Qi’s blade aside; with the other, he caught Sun Ruohai’s hand.

A voice filled with vigor and spirit echoed across the arena:

“This match ends with Sun Ruohai’s defeat. I have old ties with his grandfather, so I intervened.”

He continued in a loud, clear tone:

“Intervening in your duel violates the rules of the Cloud Sea Sect. Therefore, I will personally compensate you with fifty contribution points. What say you, young friend?”

All eyes turned to Chen Qi. He could hardly refuse, especially since the elder seemed fair. He bowed and accepted.

At last, Chen Qi had a moment to check the message from the space—it read:

[The chosen one’s basic blade technique has advanced to level 2.]

The elder nodded to Chen Qi and said:

“When the time comes, simply tell the people at the Quest Hall that Elder Chen from the Outer Sect transferred fifty contribution points to you.”

With that, the elder drifted away, leaving Chen Qi envious of his effortless grace.

Then Sun Ruohai surprised Chen Qi by approaching and extending his hand. Chen Qi took it, and the two clasped hands in silence, while the spectators erupted in cheers.

...

By evening, Chen Qi had just left the Quest Hall, having received the fifty contribution points promised by Elder Liu and completed his menial duties for the day.

His total contribution points were now fifty-three. He walked to a quiet corner of the square, waiting for someone.

Soon, a figure approached—it was Sun Ruohai.