Chapter 82: Kindred Spirits

Soon, the group arrived at the Sky Martial Arena. Most were simply spectators, eager for excitement; as for these outside disciples drawn by curiosity, Tianming neither stopped nor acknowledged them—let them watch if they wished. Though exposing his strength too early was hardly ideal for Tianming, it could help him avoid many troubles.

“Place your bets! Come, come! Senior brothers, sisters, junior brothers, the chance to get rich is here—odds are thirty to one! Miss this, and you won't get another opportunity! Now, the tenth-ranked outside disciple, Quan Ruixin, is challenging Tianming, an inner disciple. Everyone knows Tianming is ranked three hundredth on the Heaven List, and he's only at the tenth stage of Foundation. If you want to make money, don’t miss this chance!”

A chorus of shouts rang out, and the disciples who had been wandering leisurely—both men and women—instantly converged upon the betting stall. Three people managed the stall: a sharp-tongued young man at the center, his voice rising above the crowd, flanked by two glamorous women handling the registration of bets and names—a tidy division of labor.

At that moment, a figure in purple, seemingly intent on avoiding notice, draped in a black cloak, slipped swiftly from the stall and vanished into the crowd. The others paid it no mind, but a keen observer would notice that as soon as the figure donned the cloak, its shadow faded away...

With fresh bets to place, gamblers and curious disciples promptly produced their cards, and a cacophony of voices erupted:

“I bet on Quan Ruixin—one thousand spirit stones!”
“I bet on Quan Ruixin—five hundred spirit stones!”
“One hundred spirit stones, Quan Ruixin!”
“I’ll bet three hundred on Tianming...”
...

Seeing this, Tianming felt a surge of interest and rubbed his palms, turning to Hengcheng. “Little Cheng, do you have any extra spirit stones?”

“Tian Bro, you want to bet?” Hengcheng, unsettled by the familiar address, asked nervously.

Tianming nodded without hesitation.

“But I only have a hundred spirit stones,” Hengcheng admitted, embarrassed.

Truthfully, those hundred spirit stones had been gifted by Sikong Shi; without them, Hengcheng would be penniless.

“Well... that’s fine. Don’t overthink it—I just want to help you on the road to wealth. Any winnings will be yours!” After a moment’s thought, Tianming explained.

He suddenly recalled he still had ten thousand spirit stones tucked away in his dimensional space, unused. Yet, having already spoken, Tianming wouldn’t retract his words; instead, he’d have to find excuses to smooth things over.

“Really?” Delighted, Hengcheng quickly produced a black iron card. After all, one could never have too many spirit stones—no wonder Hengcheng was so excited.

“Of course! By the way, what card is that?”

Tianming was surprised—were there bank cards here too? On reflection, it made sense: with hundreds or thousands of spirit stones changing hands, not everyone possessed a storage ring. The sect must have established a financial institution for convenience.

“Black iron card! Tian Bro, you didn’t know?” Seeing Tianming’s genuine confusion, Hengcheng asked in surprise.

“Never mind, tell me later—I’m going to place my bet.” Shaking his head, Tianming strode toward the stall. Quan Ruixin, who had been watching Tianming closely, followed with a slight look of surprise.

“I bet ten thousand spirit stones on Tianming!”

A resounding, powerful voice echoed from the stall.

Gasps rippled through the crowd; those watching and betting alike turned, eager to see who was so wealthy. Few would wager so much, especially with such steep odds.

Quan Ruixin, who’d hurried over, was momentarily stunned, but quickly composed himself. Hengcheng, however, was anything but calm, mouth agape, staring in disbelief at Tianming—unable to grasp why Tianming had borrowed his spirit stones.

“Well, you certainly have a lot of spirit stones!” Quan Ruixin remarked with a faint smile.

Tianming, about to hand over his deposit, paused.

“Not really! That’s my entire fortune—any more, and I couldn’t manage it.” Tianming shook his head.

“You’re too modest, brother Tianming,” Quan Ruixin said, heading toward the young man at the center. “Place eleven thousand spirit stones for me!”

“Who would you like to bet on?” the clever young man asked eagerly.

“I bet on...” As the crowd’s attention fixed on him, Quan Ruixin deliberately prolonged the suspense, glancing at Tianming and dragging out his words until impatience showed on every face.

Sigh!

Tianming smiled wryly at Quan Ruixin’s gaze; this time, he hadn’t lied. But Quan Ruixin’s next answer shocked him.

“Tianming!” Quan Ruixin withdrew his gaze and spoke calmly.

With those words, the crowd erupted again—eleven thousand spirit stones was no small sum. Tianming, equally surprised, looked at Quan Ruixin, realizing he’d guessed Tianming’s use of primal energy and had given up any hope of winning.

What?

The disciples who had intended to bet suddenly hesitated; even the challenger himself wouldn’t bet on his own victory—how could they? The dozen or so followers behind Quan Ruixin looked on, puzzled.

“Brother Quan, you...?”
“Why are you betting on that guy?”
“Yes, why...?”
...

Those who had come to support Quan Ruixin cursed quietly and slipped away from his side.

“You lot, follow me!” Ignoring the chatter and departures, Quan Ruixin finished signing his name, slammed a golden card onto the table, and withdrew from the crowd, followed by seven or eight younger disciples.

“Do you know why I bet on him?” Quan Ruixin asked the dozen who had followed, his voice tinged with complexity as he sighed.

At first, Quan Ruixin had hoped to compete, but after a brief encounter, he sensed Tianming was concealing his true cultivation level. With his combat experience, Quan Ruixin quickly decided to abandon any hope of victory. Thinking back, the words of the young inner disciple beside Tianming were not without reason.

“Why?” one of the young disciples asked, puzzled.

“Because he truly has the qualifications to participate in the Four Sect Tournament. The sect’s decision was not wrong; we are the ones mistaken, and terribly so...” Quan Ruixin’s lips curled in a bitter smile.

Not only Quan Ruixin, but many outside disciples had thought Tianming was a clown—only to realize they themselves were the jesters, mere stepping stones for someone favored by the sect. If Quan Ruixin lost the duel, Tianming’s reputation would soar.

“Why? You’re ranked third on the Human List. Are you really content to let him be favored and cherished by the sect, when your talent could easily—” Quan Ruixin’s despondence did nothing to quell their anger; a thin young man protested.

“Enough!” Before the thin young man could finish, Quan Ruixin glared fiercely and whispered, “The sect’s decisions are not ours to question. Do you realize this place is watched by several elders?”

Hmph!

“If you’re so afraid, then from now on we’ll take matters into our own hands,” sneered a distinctive-looking young disciple beside the thin man.

“With just you lot?” Quan Ruixin shook his head inwardly and laughed dismissively.

“Is that how you all feel?” Pressing his fingers to his forehead, Quan Ruixin looked around at the seven or eight youths, his expression heavy.

Seeing his disappointment, a few of the young disciples looked uncomfortable and finally nodded.

“Brother Quan, forgive us.”
“We just can’t keep living so stifled...”
...

As the clever, distinctive young disciple spoke up, the others who had previously supported Quan Ruixin quickly shifted their stance.

“Sigh...” Quan Ruixin shook his head at these youths. “I hope you’ll think carefully. Next, I’ll do my best to win—this is no joke! The sect’s authority cannot be challenged, nor will it change for any reason.”

With that, Quan Ruixin brushed past them, striding toward the dueling platform. At that moment, Tianming, having placed his bet, was preparing to ascend the stage. The two exchanged glances and stepped onto the platform together.