AI Cultivation: Reborn as a Sword

When they return to their seats, Ren Weisheng frowns. “I am sorry Elder Hao; I only ended up embarrassing us. I also offer my apologies to the other elders. Please forgive this junior for his thoughtless actions.”

Elder Hao shakes his head and smiles at the disciple. “You and Zou Zian did nothing wrong. You only defended the honor of the sect.”

Elder Huang and the others nod to this, even patting the two disciples on the shoulder.

Zou Zian, the third-ranked disciple frowns. “I did not think Xin Muchen would fall so low as to claim we tried to tag-team him. What a snake…!”

“This time, the Frozen Peak Palace came to our rescue; we owe them a favor,” Tian Li says, to the nodding agreement of the others. “And Zhu Xuelian also, who calmed me down and helped me see things for how they are.”

However, before that conversation can get any further, the match between Xin Muchen and Yuan Qiuyue begins.

“Little fairy, don’t mind if I get a little rough, since you decided to interject into my affairs,” Xin Muchen says and lifts his heavy saber over his shoulder.

“Hmph, I don’t have time for dogs like you,” the female cultivator replies, thrusting her arms out and interlocking her fingers in a peculiar shape.

As Xin Muchen charges forward, suddenly his heavy saber plows through the podium, brought low from its high perch above his shoulder. The reason is quite obvious, amidst the shattering crystals of ice. The entire weapon, which is already very heavy, is further encased in much heavier ice.

“You…!” Xin Muchen growls, trying to lift his saber, but before he gets very far, even his feet get frozen to the podium, ice crawling up his limbs until they reach his knees.

“Get lost!” Yuan Qiuyue — the perfect counter to Xin Muchen’s heavy and tiring fighting style — exclaims and waves her hand forward. A large projectile of ice follows the motion of Yuan Qiuyue’s hand and slams into Xin Muchen, sending him flying across the podium one way, and his heavy saber another way.

And though the Galaxy Sword disciples are displeased that the Frozen Peak Palace managed to deal with Xin Muchen with such ease — albeit, after exhausting a good amount of his strength first — they also understand that this match-up was heavily in the Frozen Peak Palace’s favor.

“I wish I got the chance to do that…” Zou Zian mutters under his breath, and the others nod in agreement.

With this, Yuan Qiuyue turns toward the Heavenly Mountain Pavilion and scowls. “I had heard that the Heavenly Mountain Pavilion was a righteous sect, yet had to watch them simply observe Xin Muchen’s injustice, while cowering behind rules. It is convenient for you, to be able to injure as you like when you are the ones proctoring the match.”

“Watch your words, little girl!” the third-ranked disciple of the Heavenly Mountain Pavilion shouts back.

“Or what?” Yuan Qiuyue asks. “Are you going to do something about it, or are you going to wait until I am defenseless to hit me?”

“What… what is she doing…?” Tian Li asks.

Lan Xiaohui, far more sincere in her thoughts, smiles with satisfaction. “They have their own score to settle. That is what she said.”

Lan Xiaohui, who knows quite a bit about having scores to settle, cannot help but admire the Frozen Peak Palace for taking the initiative like this.

And it is not fruitless either, as, after one of the elders barks a few words at the disciples, the fifth-ranked disciple is sent out to challenge Yuan Qiuyue, and it is another spear user.

The following match is over almost as quickly as it began.

The disciple from the Heavenly Mountain Pavilion charges over the podium, aiming several thrusts at Yuan Qiuyue who manages to dodge them with her profound movement techniques that accompany her motions with bursts of snowflakes. She dances over the podium, and often through the air on little frozen clouds of snow, twisting and twirling like a snow fairy.

Each fruitless thrust against Yuan Qiuyue is not without cost, because each time the spear strikes through the snowy mirage of the Frozen Peak Disciple, more snow and ice collect on the spade-shaped spearhead that crackles with lightning.

Then, finally, when the frustrated Heavenly Mountain Pavilion thrusts his spear for the final time, instead of parting nothing but air, it embeds into a block of ice that appears before him and gets stuck into the crystal.

With the spear out of the way, Yuan Qiuyue executes a series of palm strikes against the spear-wielding disciple, injecting enough ice energy into her opponent that even the meridians and gold core freeze, rendering him unable to even defend himself with qi.

The fact that this disciple is now entirely powerless and unable to defend himself is probably exactly why Yuan Qiuyue waits for this moment to execute her heaviest strike against the Heavenly Mountain Pavilion disciple’s groin, and it is uncertain if she was aiming to cripple his cultivation or his ability to produce offspring.

The ice shatters, the spear goes flying away, and the disciple tumbles onto his back, coughing up blood and howling in pain as both his bruised organs, potentially damaged cultivation, and frozen spiritual veins throb with agony.

“What is the meaning of this!?” Elder Mo roars out, rising out of his seat.

“Clearly, it was an accident, Elder Mo,” Yuan Qiuyue replies calmly, though it most certainly was not an accident.

“He was defenseless! You even struck his abdomen to cripple him!” a disciple of the Heavenly Mountain Pavilion shouts.

“He was still holding his spear,” Yuan Qiuyue, again, replies with a calm tone. “Besides, he got what he deserved, acting all high and mighty just because he’s a bit handsome.”

As Yuan Qiuyue throws back her own version of words that were said to her sister-disciple, the scowls of the Heavenly Mountain Pavilion become more and more unsightly.

“But don’t worry,” Yuan Qiuyue says, glancing at the downed disciple who was now curled into a ball, hands tucked between his thighs. “I was holding back; he will still be able to give his chastity to one of you — taking it, though, that might be more difficult…”

The disciples of the Frozen Peak Palace snicker and giggle at the words, much to the dismay of the Heavenly Mountain Pavilion disciples.

“Since this is what you want, and what you started, don’t complain if it doesn’t turn out the way you hoped for, Frozen Peak Palace!” the fourth-ranked disciple announces and jumps onto the podium. “I will challenge!”

Yuan Qiuyue smiles darkly and assumes a fighting stance, beads of exhaustion already gathering above her eyebrow, though swiftly turning to snow and evaporating away. When it comes to stamina, those who practice and focus on the internal arts have the foremost advantage, though this is likewise counteracted by the heavy cost of the offensive and defensive techniques of such a fighting style.

Still, those words spoken by the fourth-ranked disciple will remain in the minds of all those gathered, because that was the beginning of what would come to be known as one of the bloodiest grudge matches between major sects in the history of the competition.