OBS Chapter 49 The Battle of the Dao Platform
Chapter 49 The Battle of the Dao Platform
Ten platforms for discussing the Dao stood side by side, with spiritual energy surging and precious light emanating from them.
Geniuses from all peaks, heirs of noble families, and disciples of holy lands gathered here, their youthful spirits intertwined.
These newly recruited disciples each displayed their strength and depth, leaving the spectators in awe.
On the platform, sword light flashed, splitting the clouds, while spells roared, and golden thunder and fire waves surged.
Furthermore, talismans materialized, and phantom images of a blue lion and a white elephant roared forth, their claws and teeth gleaming with power.
Various magical treasures displayed their unique abilities, causing the spiritual energy in the entire Daoist arena to become chaotic and the light to soar into the sky. The exclamations and praises of the spectating disciples rose and fell in waves.
The most eye-catching people here are several geniuses who are already famous in the sect.
At Platform A, Nangong Yu stood upright in the center of the platform, never moving an inch from beginning to end.
He raised his hand and drew the Crimson Flame Bow, its body shimmering with crimson light.
He condensed fire-elemental spiritual power at his fingertips, transforming it into a crimson arrow that shot out like a fire dragon from a bowstring, roaring as it pounced on its opponent.
Not only was the fire dragon incredibly powerful, but its flames also contained a scorching heat that could burn one's soul. Opponents often couldn't even get within ten feet of it before being forced to defend themselves by the raging fire spirit.
In the end, they had no choice but to admit defeat in a sorry state.
Nangong Yu won with composure, his brows revealing arrogance.
On platform number two of the "B" series, Xia Yufei, a descendant of the Fuyou Holy Land, moved with an ethereal grace, her footsteps as fluid as a swimming dragon, making her difficult to spot.
The longsword in his hand shimmered with light, and with each swing, sword energy overflowed, weaving into an invisible sword net that enveloped the arena.
Once an opponent steps into the sword net, it's like sinking into quagmire; their movements become sluggish, and they can't even touch the hem of her clothes before being struck in vital areas by countless sharp sword energies.
Her sword, beautiful yet dangerous, combined with her own extraordinary temperament, always drew cheers from the crowd, making her clearly the most popular debater.
At platform number five in the T-shape, the charming young girl Shui Ling'er from the East Sea stood gracefully, wielding a flowing ribbon in her hand. When the azure ribbon danced, it shimmered like water, reflecting the sunlight and shattering into countless silver stars.
When this treasure attacks, it's like a raging storm; the ribbons sweep out, and the waves surge and crash against the opponent.
Punctuality is like a whirlpool, a deep pool where inspiration condenses, absorbing all attacks.
Even more astonishing is that with a gentle wave of her hand, she can draw upon the purest water spirits of heaven and earth, condensing them into two water spirit sharks to aid her in battle.
The sharks hissed as they pounced on their opponents, their movements both real and feinted, their power terrifying. They often left their opponents scrambling and unable to defend themselves, and they were quickly defeated.
Lu Mingli stood among the spectators, memorizing the characteristics of each powerful fighter's moves, their favorite magical weapons, and their proficient Taoist techniques.
He kept mentally calculating how he should avoid the opponent's strengths, find their weaknesses, and use their strength to break the deadlock if he encountered such an opponent.
Suddenly, his gaze fell on platform number four—it was Qin Feiyu's turn to fight.
His opponent was a female cultivator who wielded seven icy throwing knives. The knives gleamed coldly and spun as they attacked Qin Feiyu, blocking all his angles of evasion.
Everyone thought Qin Feiyu would avoid their sharp edge, but to their surprise, he stepped forward without dodging or avoiding, his martial arts body tempering cultivation reaching its peak, his skin glowing with a faint bronze spiritual light.
Qin Feiyu swept his spear horizontally, the wind from the spear like thunder, forcefully deflecting all the incoming ice blades, the spear tip vibrating so loudly that the air hummed.
Taking advantage of the moment when the ice blade flew backward, Qin Feiyu's footwork was as swift as lightning. He closed in on the female cultivator and swept his spear across the battlefield. The spear shaft, carrying immense force, slammed into the ice shield that the opponent had hastily formed.
With a "crack," the ice shield shattered, and the force of the impact still lingered, blasting the female cultivator off the stage along with the shield.
Qin Feiyu won, but his fist was chilled by the ice blade, and a thin layer of ice formed on it. He didn't care at all, raised his hand to shatter the ice, and his fighting spirit grew even stronger, which drew cheers from the audience.
Qin Feiyu mainly cultivates martial arts at Yanwu Peak. Martial arts are born for battle. Although they are not as exquisite as Taoist magic, they are extraordinary in combat power.
Just as Lu Ming felt a surge of joy, his gaze unconsciously swept toward stage number nine—Hu Zhen was taking the stage.
Her opponent was a male cultivator who specialized in sharp metal sword energy. His flying sword was incredibly sharp, and its wind could cut through iron like mud.
Golden sword energies shot straight at Hu Zhen, their imposing aura suggesting a desire for a swift victory.
Hu Zhen did not engage him in a direct confrontation. Her movements were light and agile, shifting and dodging among the gaps in the sword energy. She gently waved a flower-shaped magic weapon in her hand, and streams of vibrant green spiritual light fell down.
Where the light fell, countless tough green vines instantly sprouted from the arena floor, weaving together into a net that layered and continuously hindered the swift flying sword.
The flying sword crashed into the vine net. Although it managed to cut several vines, it was also entangled, which greatly reduced its speed and caused it to lose its sharpness.
In the intervals, Hu Zhen would occasionally use her healing spell, her fingertips glancing over the small wounds caused by the aftershocks of the sword energy, smoothing them out.
Or, with a flick of the finger, a few pale purple seeds of the Sleeping God Flower are sent flying at the opponent. The seeds burst open, releasing a faint mist that disturbs the mind.
The sword cultivator disciple, unable to gain the upper hand after a prolonged attack, was expending far more spiritual energy than Hu Zhen. Frustrated, he revealed a flaw in his technique.
Hu Zhen seized the opportunity, and a thick vine suddenly sprang up from under his feet, tightly wrapping around his ankle. With a little force, he threw him off the stage.
Hu Zhensheng performed with composure, and his focus and precise timing during the spellcasting drew admiration from many disciples in the audience.
However, a sword aura grazed her forearm, leaving a shallow bloodstain, which, though not severe, was quite noticeable.
When Lu Ming saw the bloodstain, his heart tightened suddenly, as if something was gripping it, a pain even worse than if he were injured himself.
He instinctively headed towards station number nine, wanting to go and check on things.
But as soon as he took a step, he saw a figure leap onto the stage even faster than him—it was Mu Chen.
Mu Chen quickly walked to Hu Zhen's side, raised his hand and condensed a gentle spiritual light, carefully examining her injuries, his tone full of concern.
With a flick of his fingertips, Mu Chen smoothed out the bloodstain.
The two stood on the stage, one with gentle concern, the other with a slight smile of thanks, their postures intimate and natural, like a perfectly formed painting.
Lu Ming's steps suddenly stopped, as if he had been frozen in place by an invisible force.
The joy I wanted to share and the concern I wanted to express just now sank to the bottom of my heart in an instant, and even the joy I felt because of Hu Zhen's victory was extinguished.
He gazed at the two on the stage, and the surrounding noise seemed to fade away, leaving only that dazzling intimacy in the world.
This gave him a strange sense of disorientation—as if at this moment, he was the only one who was superfluous.
The thoughts of a teenager are both innocent and profound.
Facing formidable opponents on the debate platform, he could concentrate on divination and forge ahead without hesitation. Even if he was outmatched, he would never retreat an inch.
Yet, faced with the feelings he had so carefully hidden deep in his heart, he was so flustered and at a loss.
A wave of bitterness and loneliness washed over him, making it hard for him to breathe.
He silently turned around, walked alone through the noisy crowd, and disappeared around the corner of the debating platform. The cheers and exclamations behind him were irrelevant to him.
From the direction of Tianyan Peak, Zhao Ling stood in the distance, gazing at Lu Ming's lonely figure, and sighed softly.
Romantic affairs in youth are a tribulation in the cultivation of one's Dao heart, and only one can overcome them alone.
The competition on the platform continued in full swing.
The clang of metal clashed, flashes of brilliance rang out, and eliminations and advancements took turns unfolding without a moment's pause.
Within a single day, four hundred participating disciples went through several rounds of intense elimination matches, with half of them leaving the field in disappointment, all missing out on the opportunity to enter the Immortal Relic Land.
The sect elder stood on the high platform, his voice resounding throughout the entire discussion arena: "Today's competition ends here. The remaining two hundred disciples will continue to compete tomorrow, selecting the top one hundred, and so on, until the top fifty are chosen to enter the Immortal Relic Land!"
As soon as he finished speaking, the disciples below the stage responded in unison, their voices resounding through the sky.
As night deepened, the spiritual light on the Dao Discussion Platform dissipated, and the fighting spirit was also concealed.
Hidden within the young man's heart were countless emotions about opportunities, the path of cultivation, and feelings.