Decaying World-Chapter 28

Hum.
A low, vibrating thrum, like the collective buzzing of agitated hornets, rippled through the spectator stands as the outcome became clear.
Everyone had witnessed victories before, but a victory secured like this? That was a first for the crowd.
Lin Hui stood motionless on the stage. He observed the commotion his win had stirred among the surrounding audience—even the "Ming" generation teachers and the Temple Master, Daoist Baohe, in the main VIP seating, were leaning in, murmuring amongst themselves. He quickly gathered his thoughts.
I was a bit too conspicuous. But it doesn't matter. Soon, everyone will see that I am just as 'weak' as the others. No one in the top ten is truly weak.
His heart remained as still as a stagnant pool. He held his sword, waiting for the next challenger.
"Fourteenth Rank, You Wushuang. Please take the stage!" The voice of the Daoist attendant rang out, cutting through the murmurs.
You Wushuang was a woman with jet-black hair and wire-rimmed spectacles. She ascended the stage gripping a pitch-black sword, her expression taut with wariness.
The moment the gong sounded, she struck.
The Nine-Section Swift Sword unleashed a torrential, mad assault toward Lin Hui. Clearly, she intended to deny him even a breath of time to recover his stamina.
But...
Clang-clang-clang-clang!!
Dense impact sounds exploded like rain on a tin roof. Amidst the drifting gray snow, You Wushuang circled Lin Hui, stabbing frantically. Yet, every strike felt as if it were landing on an iron wall, eliciting only the crisp, maddening sounds of metal striking metal.
No matter which direction she attacked from, the result remained the same.
Her opponent didn't even turn his body. He simply stood in place, one hand executing moves—forward, backward, left, and right—with a casual, almost insulting ease, precisely blocking every single one of her techniques.
Soon, fifty moves passed.
Sixty moves.
Eighty moves.
One hundred moves!
Clang!
You Wushuang’s grip faltered for a split second. Her blade, knocked from her exhausted hand by the sheer vibration of the impact, flew outward and crashed into a corner of the ring.
She stood frozen in place, her wrist flushed an angry red, her expression one of utter, crushing humiliation.
"You can go pick it up and continue," Lin Hui said softly from opposite her.
Pick it up??!
Are... are you joking!!?
You Wushuang’s ears were ringing with a high-pitched whine. Feeling the countless gazes projecting onto her from all sides—like needles pricking her skin—her face turned redder and redder, her breathing growing increasingly ragged.
"Ah!!"
Abruptly, she turned and leaped off the ring, fleeing wildly into the crowd without even retrieving her sword.
The surrounding stands fell into a stunned silence, paralyzed by this sudden, pathetic turn of events.
In the main seating area.
Temple Master Daoist Baohe stroked his white beard, a look of genuine appreciation on his face.
"That Nine-Section Swift Sword wasn't much, but the precision of his strikes is incredibly high. You can tell his basics from the Seven-Section Swift Sword are extremely solid."
"His understanding of the sword far surpasses the rest." Mingchen nodded in agreement from the side. "Which family is this seedling from? How did we not notice him before?"
Evidently, he had once again forgotten Lin Hui, whom he had met twice before.
"He’s not from any prominent family. He is the descendant of an old friend of mine," Mingde sat in his seat, chuckling heartily. He hadn't expected this Grand Competition—usually indistinguishable from the rotting monotony of previous years—to deliver such a pleasant little surprise.
That kid, Lin Hui... his solid foundation wasn't apparent before, but now he had suddenly unveiled something massive on the ring.
It gave Mingde a tremendous amount of face!
"With such perception, he can be listed as a subject for observation. He hasn't formally acknowledged a master yet, has he?" Daoist Mingxiu pinched his wine cup, a trace of temptation leaking into his words.
He had always lacked a true closed-door disciple capable of carrying responsibilities.
"When this old man introduced him to the temple, I didn't think his potential was this good either," Mingde heard the implication and immediately staked his claim.
"I haven't even opened my mouth yet, and you're already getting anxious..." Mingxiu was speechless.
"Hehe, isn't it because I've been duped once before?" Mingde laughed, glancing sideways at Daoist Baohe.
Back then, Chen Sui was also discovered by him. But before he could open his mouth, the Temple Master...
Now, looking at Chen Sui—Body Tempering at the 9th Rank, a Clear Wind Sword Technique ready to break through its shackles and enter the Internal Force Realm at any moment—his heart ached with phantom pain.
"Although he's not bad, he only has potential. Compared to Huang Shan, Qiu Yiren, and Wu Cheng, he's still lacking a bit. After all, tempering the body with the Seven-Section Swift Sword is inferior to the Clear Wind Sword Technique. The earlier one tempers, the better the effect, and the gap will only widen," Daoist Baohe chuckled. "So, no need to fight. You two take Huang Shan and Qiu Yiren, one each. Don't rob Mingde of this Lin Hui."
He was famous within the temple for his good temper. Now that he was mediating, the three "Ming" generation masters couldn't argue further. They settled down and continued watching the ring.
By now, another person had ascended the stage. While they had been talking, another match was decided in mere seconds, and the new challenger was already engaging Lin Hui.
This opponent’s strength surpassed the previous contenders; his Body Tempering had reached the 3rd Rank.
His Nine-Section Swift Sword was also highly practiced, with a deep understanding of swordplay. His strikes were fast, ruthless, and precise.
Lin Hui no longer just defended—he started exchanging blows back and forth.
About two minutes later, with a soft sound, the man's longsword was knocked from his grasp. He staggered back a step, a thin cut appearing on the side of his wrist.
"Many thanks to Junior Brother Lin for showing mercy."
"You let me win."
Lin Hui clasped his fists. By now, his breathing was growing heavy.
Defeating three challengers in a row was a considerable strain on his stamina. He had thought achieving five consecutive victories would be straightforward, but it now seemed to be a real challenge.
"Next. Ranking Tenth, Ouyang Zhong." The young Daoist attendant's voice was getting hoarse from shouting.
A gong sounded.
Amidst a whistling wind, a figure soared into the air, cleared the ropes, and landed steadily on the ring.
This clearly wasn't the movement technique of Clear Wind Temple. It immediately sparked discussion in the surrounding stands.
"Clear Wind Temple doesn't forbid the learning of outside martial arts. This Ouyang Zhong brought his family's skills with him to the temple, as do several others among the top ten. For example, Second Senior Brother Zhao Jiang'an has combined multiple martial arts, making his strength second only to First Senior Brother Chen Sui," Deputy Director Yu Zhenhao explained softly to Director Ning Shaolang in the stands.
"In that case, Lin Hui is at a disadvantage. You told me he comes from a merchant family, only started martial arts halfway through his youth, and has no family techniques to rely on," Ning Shaolang observed thoughtfully.
"Exactly. These External Style martial halls differ greatly from the Internal Style sects you're familiar with. In External Styles, the more martial arts one masters, the stronger they become. Internal Styles, by contrast, value purity of technique—their focus is fundamentally different," Yu Zhenhao agreed with a nod.
At this moment, it wasn't just them discussing. The vast majority of the audience on the surrounding stands had been captivated by Lin Hui's winning streak.
Some had even begun to guess how many more matches he could win. Was a five-match winning streak possible?
Chen Zhishen sat on a distant stand, with Ah-Hu beside him. Both watched the ring nervously.
"Did you see that? Is your Uncle Lin strong?"
"Strong!"
"Let me tell you, even if he loses this match, your Uncle Lin is defeated in glory. After all, how long has he been practicing martial arts? That Ouyang Zhong has been practicing since childhood—over ten years now. They aren't even in the same rank," Chen Zhishen lowered his voice.
"Uncle, why are you more nervous than the people on stage?" Ah-Hu asked, confused.
"Because this match is critical! If he wins, he enters the top ten. Your Uncle Lin will have made it big this time!"
Chen Zhishen clenched his fists, feeling his palms slick with sweat.
The top ten! Earning the title of one of Clear Wind Temple’s top ten elites carried tremendous weight. Out in the wider world, it was enough to make even the minor gray-area organizations of the Outer City wary—and would put him on the Security Station’s priority watchlist.
Major households and clans would also turn their attention to these individuals, investing resources early on to build connections and networks.
After all, the current top ten were very likely to possess the strength and status of the "Ming" generation in the future.
In the Outer City region, where dragons and snakes mingled, such martial power was not weak.
Aside from these benefits, the most critical point was that the top ten could hold a position at the Security Station, gaining legal status, tax exemptions, and exemption from corvée labor.
Chen Zhishen knew all too well, living as a peasant's son at the bottom, that the lives of the poor were not treated as lives.
When exploring the mist, the government needed guides; they would casually grab a few lowlifes living on the edge of the mist to lead the way. That was a common occurrence.
If they died, they died. A small payout settled the matter.
Every so often, when the Yamen needed to build something, they would forcibly conscript laborers from the lowest ranks. Not only that, the workers had to bring their own dry rations. Once taken, they could be gone for months, missing the farming season entirely. A whole year’s work would yield no harvest, leaving them to survive on whatever grain they had stored.
Those without any stores could only resort to selling their sons and daughters. Life was bitter beyond words.
Yet, there was nowhere to run. The mist sealed off all escape routes. Without a large merchant caravan to lead the way, trying to flee was a death sentence.
Retracting his thoughts, Chen Zhishen looked toward the ring, where Lin Hui was still trading blows. Silently, he cheered for him in his heart.
On the ring.
Lin Hui blocked left and parried right. Having fought to a standstill, both men retreated a step, panting heavily.
"Top ten... just one win short of five in a row. Senior Brother, why not grant someone else this glory and yield just this once?" Lin Hui said quietly.
"Junior Brother, you're exhausted yet still pushing yourself so hard. Why suffer? It's just a top ten ranking; is it really worth all this effort?" Ouyang Zhong, practiced in his family's martial arts, possessed remarkable stamina and exquisite legwork. Paired with his swordplay, he put enormous pressure on Lin Hui.
"Senior Brother, with your family's wealth, the top ten status may not concern you, but for someone like me, it's everything. The lure of a top ten spot and a five-win streak is too great... I can only give it my all," Lin Hui replied sincerely.
"Junior Brother, that's not right. The top ten is determined purely by strength. If places were decided by ceding to others, why bother holding a Grand Competition? Wouldn't it be simpler to just agree on the rankings offstage?" Ouyang Zhong sighed.
"Senior Brother..." A hint of hesitation passed over Lin Hui’s face. "Very well... for the sake of the top ten, I have no choice but to offend."
After realizing the significance of the top ten and seeing he was just one step away, the bottom line in his heart began to waver.
Use it once.
Just use it once, get the top ten and the five-win streak, and that’s it.
"Actually, this junior has a bit more explosive power than most people by nature," Lin Hui thought to himself, quickly resolving on a plan. Use Lightness just once. One instant would be enough. As long as it wasn’t too over the top, he could still plausibly blame his burst of sword speed on hidden potential.
"Explosive power? Then let me see just how strong Junior Brother’s so-called outburst really is."
As Ouyang Zhong spoke, he had already made his move, his sword flickering toward Lin Hui’s waist with blistering speed.
Under the trembling force of the sword tip, the ensuing variations completely sealed off all of Lin Hui's escape routes.
This level of swordsmanship was a world apart from his previous opponents—undeniably, it matched Lin Hui's current mastery.
Hah!
Suddenly, Lin Hui let out a fierce roar.
His sword flashed upward. In that instant, the speed of his blade soared, as if every ounce of his strength surged into the strike.
The ascending slash generated a biting wind, sharp enough to make Ouyang Zhong's chest and abdomen prickle with numbness—even before the blade reached him.
Special Effect: Lightness — Activated.
Lin Hui’s arm became a blur in the blink of an eye. The velocity of his swing more than doubled in that moment!
The terrifying speed rendered Ouyang Zhong completely unable to react—no chance to block, no opportunity to dodge.
Ouyang Zhong could only freeze, his attack halted, standing motionless with his head thrown back, eyes fixed on the silver blade flashing before him.
Chi!!!
The blade's silver shadow swept past Ouyang Zhong’s chest, slicing through several strands of black hair and sending them fluttering skyward, accompanied by a piercing, keening wail.
It had come within a hair’s breadth of cutting him in two.