The Sect Leader System-Chapter 324: Polite and a Good Sport

Zi Delan strode into the arena to a mostly quiet reception. A few fights between the big three sects had already taken place, but somehow, he’d become the recipient of the honor of being the first Rising Tide Sect member to compete in the tournament.

Yay?

The entire contingent was there to support him, including Senior Sister, Senior Brother, and the sect leader. As if the pressure to do well wasn’t already intense.

Led by Senior Sister, all the Rising Tide Sect members cheered loudly, but they were the only ones excited to see Zi Delan. And the stands held thousands of cultivators. No one booed, but even their Poison Claw Sect allies observed in silence.

Senior Brother had told him to put all distractions out of his mind, though, and that instruction definitely included the crowd. Zi Delan was to focus on his opponent and only on his opponent.

And the guy was a brute.

Wearing the rough hewn pants and shirt of a clansman instead of a cultivator’s robe, the combatant had muscles on top of his muscles and stood at least a foot taller than Zi Delan.

Scary. Strong. Formidable. Intimidating. Those were his first thoughts upon observing the guy.

Zi Delan surreptitiously patted his pocket for his contingency ring, suddenly regretting that he couldn’t wear it since he hadn’t crafted it himself. The only reason he had it on him was that the sect leader demanded that it remain accessible at all times.

Neither could Zi Delan wear the battle robes the sect leader created since they had formations imbedded within. The clothes changing ring wasn’t even allowed onto the arena floor and had instead been left in Zhong Kun’s care.

The only equipment allowed that wasn’t created personally by the combatant was basic weapons. Luckily, Zi Delan and the others had received upgrades prior to departing for Sixth Flawless Flowing City, his in the form of an Orange Vigor Spirit Wood spear. The weapon was many orders of magnitude better than the basic one he’d been using, but the quality didn’t matter as long as it was based on material strength alone. Only advantages provided by arrays were against the rules.

In contrast, his opponent used only his fists. Of course, those were so gigantic and backed by such an enormous physique that they were quite an intimidating sight. The guy looked like a killer, scarier in appearance even more than Senior Brother.

If the guy had been on the streets of Vermillion Incomparable Rain Town, Zi Delan would have run the other way.

But he wasn’t that kid anymore. Instead of being the starving leader of a street gang, he was a cultivator, a respected member of the Rising Tide Sect. A member, for some reason, of the sect’s council of elders. And with status came privileges.

Since he possessed a Metal and Earth related aspect, he couldn’t use any of the Time dilation rooms for cultivation, so he had only reached Qi Gathering minor realm eight instead of being at the peak. But the technique rooms had been wide open for him, and he’d availed himself of every opportunity.

He’d mastered his spear technique and chosen two new ones—Refined Movement and Tough Skin. Able to be used by a cultivator of any aspect, both skills had been created for the guards at Ye Zan’s behest. The first concentrated not just on speed but on knowledge of how and why to move in certain ways. The second focused on predicting where an enemy’s strike would land and making that section of skin tougher to absorb some of the energy of the blow.

Both were only Qi Gathering level techniques, of course, which meant that neither was overpowered. Still, they both complemented his weapon skill, allowing him to build a refined personal martial art.

With the huge advantage offered by the Time dilation rooms, he’d brought both new techniques to Mastery and spent plenty of hours sparring. Combined with the sect leader’s manuals on basic combat, Zi Delan had reached pinnacles the him of even an objective month prior wouldn’t dare dream of.

The techniques and the style he’d developed were both amazing, but it was the final benefit that gave him confidence to stand in an arena against a big brute—Zi Delan had long since reached the peak of Bronze Body Cultivation. Like with his fellow sect members, the method hadn’t transformed his body into a mass of muscle, but he grew stronger and faster and tougher with each minor realm.

Compared to his opponent, not only did Zi Delan possess higher Spiritual Cultivation and had reached Mastery with more and almost certainly better techniques, he also was in the same realm of Body Cultivation. Granted, the clansman’s method appeared to focus on greater strength, but any scripture distributed by the Rising Tide Sect was pretty much guaranteed to be of a higher quality than anything another sect possessed.

Zi Delan wasn’t alone in feeling confident. All his sect mates, including Senior Brother and the Guard Captain, believed that the advantages granted by the superior scriptures would easily win the day. Zi Delan vowed not to take his opponent lightly, though.

In fact, that was one of his three main goals. One, be polite and a good sport as the sect leader commanded. Two, win, as Senior Sister expected. Three, take his opponent seriously, mainly because that goal made the other two more achievable.

Speaking of taking things seriously, the fight was about to begin. Zi Delan gave his head a mental shake and forced himself to concentrate on what was about to happen. He studied his opponent.

The clansman had a neutral expression plastered on his face. Which made sense. Like the Rising Tide Sect, the clan wasn’t exactly respected by the big three sects. There was no cause for him to display arrogance.

As the sect leader had ordered, Zi Delan began by showing the utmost respect, cupping his hands and inclining his head much lower than was required for an equal. Since the guy was listed as only being in the fourth minor realm, he was technically the lower ranked of the two. He should have bowed low to Zi Delan.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Instead, the man inclined his head slightly as a senior to a junior, though his expression didn’t change.

Zi Delan repressed a frown. He was supposed to stay polite, but he wasn’t supposed to accept any disrespect. Then again, the sect leader seemed to care much less about the proper depth of a bow than most cultivators.

“Participants, ready yourselves,” a voice announced.

There was no need to go over any rules as there really weren’t many. The fight was over when one of the two couldn’t or wouldn’t continue or a judge halted it. Any attacks after either of those points was reached could result in disqualification. Other than that, may the strongest combatant win.

He’d discussed strategy beforehand with his squad members, the Guard Captain, and Senior Brother. There really were only two choices—charge or wait. Zi Delan’s natural inclination was to gather data before attacking, and it just so happened that the others agreed that learning how the clan operated would be good for the entire sect.

So he settled into a ready stance—his right foot forward but with his weight resting on the back one, his knees bent. His left hand was positioned about a third of the way from the tip in order to control the weapon while his right hand rested on the middle of the shaft for power.

“Participants begin in three … two … one…. Go!”

Both remained stationary for an instant, Zi Delan as per his plan. Upon seeing him settled with no sign of moving, his opponent charged. His arms and legs pumped. And he was … fast. Kind of.

Just as Senior Brother and the Guard Captain sparred with Zi Delan to instruct him, he taught juniors in the same manner. Compared to a normal cultivator of the same realm as the opponent without Body Cultivation, the man was fast and agile. Compared to Senior Brother… Not so much.

It wasn’t like Zi Delan had time to take a nap or anything, but he felt fully prepared by the time the clansman neared.

Three long strides away. He cocked his right arm back. Two. One.

In a single fluid motion, he threw a cross with his right fist.

The move was obvious. Really obvious.

It was so obvious, in fact, that Zi Delan thought it was a feint. Instead of thrusting with his spear as would have been the proper response, he chose a more cautious move—stepping to the right.

His opponent’s arm thundered past, missing completely. Even worse for the clansman, he’d put so much force into the swing that the whiff caused him to almost fall.

Zi Delan’s first thought was that Senior Brother would have punished such a huge mistake. Zi Delan’s second thought was that, oh yeah, he should punish such a huge mistake.

Since the man had already lost his balance, the best bet was to simply help him the rest of the way to the ground. Zi Delan swung the heel of his spear at the man’s back leg, contacting with a loud thwack and sending the guy sprawling.

With the clansman eating dirt, it would have been a simple matter to end the fight right then. A spear thrust to the back. Stomping on his head. Heck, even foregoing technique altogether and clubbing him over the head with the shaft.

None of that seemed very sporting, though. Moreso, it didn’t seem like a polite way to end things, and Master had ordered them to be polite. And good sports.

Zi Delan calmly stood back and allowed his opponent to rise and reset himself.

As soon as the clansman set himself, he again charged and swung. Zi Delan again dodged and swept. And the clansman again ended up eating dirt.

When he rose for the second time, he appeared angry. Livid, really. Face red. Eyes narrowed. Muscles rigid.

At least he seemed to learn from his mistake, approaching more slowly, and when he swung and missed, he didn’t leave himself so out of balance.

Zi Delan, on the other hand, did just what he’d done before—dodged and swept the guy’s legs. And it worked. Despite the clansman having what appeared to be a solid, balanced stance, the force of the spear shaft took his feet out from under him, and he again ended up on the ground, though on his back instead of face down.

Wow. Zi Delan couldn’t help but think that he was the completely dominant fighter. He was definitely faster, and judging from how easily he’d executed that sweep, he might just be stronger, too.

If his Body Cultivation were that superior to the clansman’s, the other Rising Tide Sect members probably possessed the same advantage. Zi Delan figured it would be a positive if his sect mates entered their contests with full knowledge of their comparative strength.

A test was in order.

He stuck his spear tip first in the ground as he waited for his opponent to get back up. The clansman was slower to rise and obviously limping when he did. His face was still an angry shade of bright red, and a vein on his forehead pulsed.

Zi Delan had almost no training in unarmed combat. If he could win the next exchange, it would be due solely to superior physical attributes.

The clansman threw a conservative jab, clearly expecting Zi Delan to dodge. Instead, he blocked it.

Smack!

While the heavy contact didn’t hurt him at all, the clansman winced, but the pain only seemed to make him angrier. He wound up for a massive cross and lunged forward with the punch.

Zi Delan did something that would make him look idiotic if it didn’t work, but he had to know. He intercepted the punch with his open hand.

Thud!

The punch was stopped cold, and it didn’t even hurt. Not one bit. Zi Delan followed his instincts and squeezed. The bones in the clansman’s hand cracked, and he let out a quite unmasculine squeal before collapsing to his knees.

“Pardon, Esteemed Clansman,” Zi Delan said, still squeezing the poor guy’s hand, “but are you ready to give up now?”

“Mercy. Please, mercy!”

Zi Delan let go, backed up several steps, and cupped his hands. “Gratitude for the match, Esteemed Clansman.”

There. He’d been perfectly polite throughout the fight, including before and after. The sect leader would surely be pleased.

Benton was more than ready for the tournament to begin, and finally, the first fight featuring one of his kids was about to start, featuring Zi Delan versus a clansman. The only question was—from where should Benton watch?

The clear solution was in the stands with the rest of the Rising Tide Sect. That choice would definitely be the most fun as the kiddos were sure to be exuberant. A more refined possibility, though, would be joining Kang Ya-Ting in the Poison Claw Sect’s luxury box. That option would make Benton appear more highbrow in the eyes of the other cultivators.

A final alternative called to him, though. An unconventional one. And one that the very conservative Kang Ya-Ting might advise Benton against—viewing the match with the clan.

The problem was that the move was quite aggressive, and while it might pay off in a big way, it was just as likely to blow up in his face.

Decisions. Decisions.

He scanned the stands where the clan congregated and found the vast majority of the fifty or so of them to be in the Qi Gathering realm. Only two were higher than that, including who he presumed was the clan leader, and they were both only in Foundation Establishment.

Other than the fact that they mainly pursued Body Cultivation, not much was known about them, and honestly, Benton was curious. That interest, more than any tactical or strategic consideration, drove his choice.

He Teleported to just outside the clan’s area, activated Time Manipulation, and hastily inscribed a series of quick arrays around the clan members. By the time any of them noticed he was there, the formations had been activated, isolating the bubble within in regards to both sight and sound.

Benton materialized beside the clan leader. “Greetings, I’m Chao Su. May I know your name?”