C33

Early morning on the next day, the sound of drums resounded for several tens of kilometers within the Qingyun Peak competition arena.

Under the gaze of over thirty honorary disciples of the Crouching Cloud Valley, Limu, Li Wan'er and two other youths around the age of seventeen or eighteen years old rushed towards the main peak of the Qingyun Peak together.

The majority of the thirty odd honorary disciples shook their heads helplessly, because in the past few decades, there had not been anyone who had been able to rely on training alone to truly advance to an official True Martial Sect disciple.

Everyone stared at Li Wan'er's back with infatuation, their expressions were full of worry and helplessness. They shouted, "Junior Sister! You must be careful during the competition, if you can't beat her, then admit defeat, and I will wait for you at Crouching Cloud Valley! This will always be your home! "

Out of the corner of his eye, Limu saw Li Wan'er's expression. It was an expression of anger and anger. She didn't look back at the bag at all. Sending her off shouldn't have said such dejected words, but the bag cared too much about her.

Gao Dayong, with a pair of crutches and a fixed brace on his head, stood outside his door. He looked at the back of Limu as he left and his eyes were filled with malice.

Several new honorary disciples shouted in unison, "Boss! Good luck! If you lose, I'll leave all the irrigation tasks in the fields to you after spring begins! "

"Next year, I'll be waiting for you at the True Martial Sect Assessment Trial!" Limu turned around and smiled at the seven honorary disciples.

The disciples in the True Martial Sect would have six and eight years respectively as the deadline. The honorary disciples who had not advanced for more than six years would be persuaded to return to their respective cities, and the official disciples would be persuaded to return to their respective cities if they had not advanced to the higher levels of the main peak for more than eight years.

The Qingyun Peak competition was divided into eight regions, and each deacon was in charge of one of them.

This time, the eight disciples were divided into eight different regions for the competition. The eight arenas were impressively built into the martial arts practice field.

There were still three years until the next Qingyun Peak eight tournament. This year's competition would only have the disciples from the same tournament, so the elders of the mountain range would normally not participate in the competitions between the disciples from the same tournament. This time's competition would be presided over by eight deacons, each of whom would be responsible for the adjudication of the competition.

Over four hundred disciples, dressed in white, gray, black and green, sat cross-legged around the eight arenas. Eight attendants stood proudly atop the eight dragon columns, and the attendants wore unique gold and silver embroidered grandmaster robes that fluttered in the air. They were like eight inscriptions, overlooking the eight arenas.

The sound of the drum stopped and the training field became very quiet.

"The annual Qingyun Peak Martial Arts Competition, now …" Deacon Ye announced in a clear voice. However, from the corner of his eyes, he saw four gray and white disciples and felt the training ground from the direction of Crouching Cloud Valley. His voice immediately stopped.

The gazes of the four hundred plus disciples also gathered on the four honorary disciples. Many of the disciples were pointing their fingers at them as they cast looks of disdain towards them. Many of them were sighing and jeering at them.

Deacon Ye's gaze turned cold as he asked in a deep voice, "Are the four of you here for the test?"

Limu looked around at everything in the training field and answered with a nod, "The four of them are here to participate in this time's test."

Just as Deacon Ye wanted to reprimand him, another old deacon smiled and said, "Quickly enter the line."

Limu easily found it. He immediately saw Mo Yuhan, who was sitting cross-legged, waving at him happily. Limu was stunned for a moment, but his heart was not as happy as it used to be when he saw Mo Yuhan. With a slightly gloomy expression, he slowly walked to the side of the arena, found a corner, and sat down cross-legged.

"The Martial Arts Trial is not child's play!" I hope that the next time you honorary disciples come to participate in the training, you must take it seriously! " Deacon Ye was obviously a bit unhappy and continued to speak with a heavy voice: "Every session of Qingyun Peak's Martial Competition is a test of how your disciples progress with their martial cultivation! Every year, the top three disciples would receive a prize! This prize not only represents the acknowledgement of the disciples' martial arts cultivation, but it also greatly helps the disciples' martial arts cultivation! Therefore, all disciples must go all out. Perhaps you may die or be injured in the competition, and although your cultivation is still shallow and you cannot restrain your martial skills, you must not allow disciples to intentionally kill or injure disciples of the same sect. "

"Deacon Ye, I think it's time to compete. Don't use these words to scare the new disciples." The older deacon said lightly.

Deacon Ye nodded indifferently and continued, "This year's Martial Arts Competition has officially begun. The previous disciples will draw lots to decide their opponents. Now, we will begin the drawing of lots."

Among these disciples, the strongest was only at the third level of Strength Conversion. As for the two thirteen year old geniuses, they were only at the ninth level of Qi Condensation, and after reaching the Strength Conversion Realm, breaking through to the first level in a year would be extremely difficult, not to mention the Yang God realms beyond the Strength Conversion and Void Transformation stages.

In the competition of the same year, there would never be a situation of death. With the protection of the eight deacons, no one would be able to kill an opponent in front of the deacon. Deacon Ye's words were just a bluff.

Amongst the new disciples, all of the official disciples were required to participate in this year's competition. Out of the eight cities in the Linyuan City, seven of them would go to the eight deacons to sit down. Currently, the number of these official disciples was seven to eight to fifty-six.

Within ten odd months, these disciples who had just entered the True Martial Sect had long since compared each other. As for the disciples under the seats of the deacons, these disciples were already well aware of the power, and only the honorary disciple, Limu, had always been training in the Crouching Cloud Valley. It seemed that these official disciples had long since forgotten about it, and Yue Zhongyang was no exception.

However, just as everyone forgot about Limu, he returned to the crowd's line of sight.

Most of the disciples went up the stage to draw lots, but Limu stood still on the spot and did not go up to draw lots. Yue Zhongyang did not move, and he was standing on the other side of the stage less than ten feet away from Limu.

"Stinking beggar, are you seeking death by coming back?!" The cultivation method cultivated by the official disciples of True Martial Sect is something you definitely cannot imagine, and the honorary disciples want to challenge the official disciples?! Do you know how we train every day?! " Yue Zhongyang snorted and said in disdain.

Limu ignored Yue Zhongyang, and, unwilling to be on the same stage with him, went up to draw lots, walked to the stage, cast a sidelong glance at Yue Zhongyang and said: "Boss Yue, I beg of you! Don't pester me like a little brat, I just want to peacefully cultivate within the True Martial Sect. "

After Limu finished speaking, he ignored Yue Zhongyang and went forward to draw a bamboo stick. The other disciples all had a bamboo stick in their hands and were still observing it while mumbling the words on the bamboo stick in their hands.

Limu also drew the same bamboo stick. On his bamboo stick, two words were written — A Eight.

The bamboo sticks were arranged according to the order of 'A, B, C, D, Gengxin'. There were eight people in each group, and the original number of fifty-six was seven, while Limu was fifty-seven, but he had coincidentally drawn the number of the eighth. In the first seven groups, there were three matches that needed to be held before the first place in each group would be determined, and then the first place in the eight groups would be decided, and if there were only seven groups, then there would be one empty spot in the first round of the finals.

However, Limu had drawn the only spot in the eighth group. This meant that Limu could be exempted from the first three rounds and directly become first in the eighth group, participating in the second round of the finals.

When Limu saw the word "A 8" on the bamboo stick, a brilliant smile appeared on his face.

"Wood! What was there to laugh about? Don't tell me you got an 'A 8'!? " Mo Yuhan saw Limu holding a bamboo stick and smirking foolishly. She walked forward, patted Limu on the shoulder and said.

Limu turned around, revealing an undeniable expression.

"What?!" Is this for real?! " Mo Yuhan's face was full of surprise. Her eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. She quickly snatched the bamboo stick from Limu's hands. With a glance, she saw that it was the word "A 8".

"Ai!" Mo Yuhan shook her head helplessly and said, "What a fortune for idiots! I really admire you! "