Garion leaned forward in his seat, eyes scanning the twelve giant screens above the arena.
His gaze froze when one screen shifted, showing a familiar figure.
Dahlia had indeed appeared on one of the projections.
But Garion’s lips twitched when he saw her still wearing her oversized robe.
"Why the hell is she still wearing that thing? It’ll obstruct her movements. I gave her the combat suit for a reason."
He let out a long sigh, rubbing his forehead.
"This girl... She is still embarrassed to show her great body in front of strangers, but doesn’t mind beating them bloody. Unbelievable."
On the screen, Dahlia’s opponent was a boy in a red robe, raising his sword high.
His build was ordinary, his stance shaky, and mana flared to cover his blade.
The crowd around Garion murmured in excitement, but Garion only narrowed his eyes.
The boy lunged, shouting the name of his technique.
His strike came fast, but his feet were unsteady, his shoulders stiff, and his grip uneven.
"Tch. His form is garbage. Even Dahlia, on day one, had better control than him."
On the screen, Dahlia didn’t even bother using mana and quickly counterattacked the boy.
With only three quick strikes and a simple twist of her wrist, she locked the boy’s arm and slammed him to teh ground.
The audience gasped as the boy cried out in pain, pinned in her lock.
Dahlia didn’t gloat or yell. She simply tightened her hold until his sword clattered uselessly to the ground.
Garion just nodded, but didn’t smile, knowing how weak the boy was.
"Quite efficient, but still, the opponent was too weak to show off her strength."
He leaned back, but then something caught his eye.
Not far from his seat, in the section for sect elders, a man in the same red robes was watching teh same screen intently.
His posture was stiff, his face darkening every second. Garion’s eyes narrowed, knowing who he was.
That person must be in the same sect as that boy.
He focused on the elder, letting his senses probe the man’s aura.
The air around him felt heavier, far beyond any Refinement Realm Cutlivators.
Stronger than Saturation... No doubt about it. He’s in the second realm.
Garion’s jaw quickly tightened.
"Tch. Looks like I’ll need to break through to the Mana Core Realm soon. Otherwise, I’ll be caught in the famous chain of cultivation world."
He knew the chain pattern well and all weebs joke about it so much on earth, and now he was about to face it.
Beat the disciple, and the master comes. Beat the master, and the elder comes. Then the sect leader. Then the ancestor. It never ends.
On the elder’s side, the red-robed man’s frown deepened as Dahlia continued to tighten her lock.
His voice was low, but the pressure of his mana made the air ripple faintly.
"How could a mere little girl subdue him so easily?"
He clenched the armrest of his seat, his knuckles whitening.
That boy wasn’t just any disciple. He was one of their sect’s most promising talents.
His aptitude was praised since childhood, and that’s why he was quite arrogant.
But his arrogance had always been tolerated because he could back it up.
But now, before the eyes of thousands, he had been crushed by a little girl whose sect was unknown.
What sect is she from? To produce such an extraordinary girl... this isn’t just a small sect. No ordinary sect could have a disciple .
Around him, other elders began to whisper too.
"That girl fought strangely, didn’t she?"
"Her technique wasn’t like a sect’s martial art. It was too crude."
"Where did she learn all those weird techniques?"
The red-robe elder’s frown deepened even further.
His disciple lay defeated, and his sect’s reputation had been dented because this was only the first stage.
Whoever trained that girl... I’ll find out.
Garion, watching from the common seats, frowned slightly.
"It seems that I need to hasten my cultivation or else..."
He could see dangers when he looked at that red-robed elder’s eyes. The source of this content ɪs ⓝovelFire.net
The boy’s arm was still locked tightly by Dahlia. Her voice then suddenly became cold.
"Now, let me ask you one more time. Do you give up?"
The boy’s face twisted with pain, sweat dripping down his forehead.
His teeth ground together, his pride screaming louder than his arching body.
"Are you crazy? This is only the first stage! There’s no way in hell I’ll give up, so..."
His eyes flashed in rage as he roared.
Dahlia’s smirk widened.
"Then don’t blame me."
She leaned back and twisted harder, aiming to snap his arm cleanly.
But just as she did, the boy noticed a tiny opening. He gritted his teeth, throwing all thoughts of pride aside.
So what if they mock me later? If I can still win, it’s worth it.
His free hand shot forward, not for her weapon or her throat, but toward her chest.
Gasps erupted from the spectators as the image played out on the screen.
Dahlia’s eyes went wide. For an instant, shock froze her. Then fury exploded in her chest.
She screamed, instantly releasing the arm lock, twisting her body, and kicking the boy hard in the chest.
The boy was launched backward, smashing against teh trunk of a tree before tumbling to the ground, coughing violently.
Dahlia’s breathing was heavy, her fists trembling with rage.
She roared, pointing at him.
"If that’s how you fight, then you’re not a cultivator. You’re just trash!"
The boy staggered to his feet, his pride shattered.
His face was pale, his breath ragged, but he didn’t dare move closer.
Instead, he turned and bolted into the forest, his figure disappearing between the trees.
Dahlia stood rooted in place, her chest heaving. Her nails dug into her palm, and anger burned through her veins.
"Whoever you are... Don’t ever let me see you again. Next time, I won’t stop with only one arm broken."