The legendary warrior

Chapter 57 Fight Against Jarvis

The stadium was filled with unrelenting energy from the rowdy, hollering crowd spectating from the stands. Shrieks of laughter and protest mixed in with the war cries from contenders down in their respective battle rings highlighted the excitement sparking in the air.

Countless disciples had fallen down to their knees in the face of a stronger foe since yesterday; a natural order to the way of the martial arts. It was by no means a shock, as many had observed the winners puffing their chests with a pride that only beings at the ninth grade of Skin Refinement could possess. Most of them had been on a roll; winning their bouts continuously up until the tenth streak. After all, it must have been an easy brawl since the masters were not fated to meet early in the game, as per Zenith's veiled rule of the tournament.

The superiors had arranged the combats to be battles of the fittest. Ineligible competitors were successfully weeded out on the first day, amassing to a jarring number of one hundred victors to compete next until fifty stood on top of the rankings.

Regulations stayed consistent all throughout the event. Candidates were expected to fight ten rounds with the goal of accumulating marks in every round, and the one who scored highest would be granted the name of the champion.

All in all, the challengers that now stood confidently in the middle of the massive arena were the products of the bloody system; the esteemed predators of the whole sect.

They were an elite group composed of varying individuals at the eighth or ninth grade of Skin Refinement, emitting loud, intimidating auras that muted the deafening noise coming from almost-sore throats of adrenaline-pumped onlookers. The heated atmosphere further pronounced the mass hysteria sweeping over the place. Judging by the overwhelming response of the public, today's match would certainly be a legendary sight to behold; NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

an awaited massacre of rivals until only fifty, rightful kings remained.

Time passed, and soon, nine rounds of battles were to meet its end.

The top ten outer disciples breezed through their scuffles, nonchalantly acquiring triumph after triumph, having not encountered any powerful nemesis to wreck their balance. If it were not for the unfortunate exception of Jim and Dustin's death by hand of Ricky, their title as the ten would have not been reduced to eight.

On the other hand, a flurry of powerful attacks unleashed by Ricky pranced in time with the cheers of masses. He acted unbothered as he effectively blew his opponents away from him like annoying pests foolishly clinging to his skin. His display of unmitigated prowess led to his predictable success. Much like the venerated disciples, he too, had won his share of skirmishes. He poised with a calmness and elegance only confidence could bring, and the entirety of Snow Sect knew that it was not baseless. They had put enough faith in his proficiency to believe that he could single-handedly defeat any outer disciple that dares to challenge him. Only a few would choose to be blinded by sheer bias and judgment to see his clear potential, and some thirsted for him to be leading a bigger picture for the nearing future.

Zenith and the Elders fell on the latter category; they had high hopes for Ricky for the explicit reason of their greed needing someone like him in every sect.

Ultimately, geniuses of his level were notably hard to come by. A few had cut it close, much like the emergence of a sudden dark horse by the name of Edgar Li.

He was exceedingly good and a talent that would perhaps be viewed as a rarity by most. But, ones with keen eyes would have known right away that Edgar Li was just an average, ordinary outer disciple before.

Not to demean his undeniable growth; he had surely demonstrated an outstanding performance with the use of his ninth grade of Skin Refinement.

The techniques he had discharged with precision had the results of a student skillfully taught by masters, but that was exactly why he was at a level anyone could easily achieve if given the proper training. The experts he could depend on gave him the privilege to develop faster than most, thus explaining his fast boost in progress.

Contrary to him, Ricky was a man with bottomless aptitude. He was an unpredictable calamity, in which he devoured every knowledge he came across and made it his own to claim. He was an idol that entrances thousands into a daze, robotically following his close to indistinguishable lightning movements with bewildered looks fused with awe shining especially in the young ones' gazes.

Zenith was one of the innumerable enthusiasts he had won over. His curiosity and anticipation for the boy's advancement in his field led him into wanting to push him to exceed his own limits. And so, it was with a guilty conscience when he heard the horde burst into confusion and surprise upon the announcement of the final battles, knowing that he was to take the full blame.

No one had thought that Ricky would face the fourth ranker among the top ten outer disciples; the famous Jarvis.

Arguments among the watchers ignited instantaneously, debates of which adversary would come out dominant incited fights among the passionate warriors

while others were satisfied with the promise of a spectacular showdown and merely uttered their praises hidden under the shy of their breaths.

Speculations about the sect chief fluttered through, reaching Zenith's perked ears as he was accused of boredom with the previous one-sided competitions.

'Perhaps, ' the tilt of their lips hinting at a faint smile appeared on their face at the thought.

"Who do you think will win?"

"It's hard to say that…"

Never-ending questions were raised the higher the anticipation became as they waited. It buzzed and singed the surroundings with static; becoming so palpable that it was increasingly suffocating a few with the unrestrained tension.

Even the higher-ups did not have any inkling as to what Zenith was thinking.

'Chief Zenith, why did you pair them?' Elder Evan asked him using his mind, knowing that the other elders were equally as perplexed.

It truly was a useful thing, to be able to communicate through thoughts by reaching the highest stage of Skin Refinement.

'I want to know his potential, '

Zenith only smiled, his focus shifting to rest on Ricky.

'What?' Bemused, the three Elders all turned to the subject of interest after hearing the staggering reply

while Elder Albott only chuckled in amusement, apparently getting what Zenith had meant. Truthfully, Ricky's excellent performance would irrefutably qualify him to be of same standing with the top ten outer disciples, but they did not think so far ahead that it would attract the attention of the most powerful figure in their sect.

'It seems that Ricky's cultivation method draws the attention of the sect chief, '

Elder Albott mused.

Sensing the group's confusion, Zenith took the time to give them an explanation, 'You need patience. If Jarvis can stimulate Ricky's hidden potential, you'll be interested in him too.'

With that closing statement, they fell into quiet contemplation as they assessed the duel about to unfold before them.

The greying sky rumbled in the far distance, a storm brewing as the wind grew harsher and harsher by the second. Dust and rubble whisked past the two antagonists, loose hair whipping around their stern faces in a frenzied dance that occasionally concealed their threatening glares.

Maybe it was destiny that led Ricky to face his enemy--one of the many, in fact. Even so, he did not predict that would be facing Jarvis in their last course in the contest.

And, it appeared that they shared the same sentiments.

"You're unlucky enough to fight against me today!"

Arms folded across his chest in a display of arrogance, Jarvis smirked cockily.

"I admit, it gave me a bit of a startle to see you here," sighed Ricky. "Although honestly, it doesn't matter. Whoever it might be, I'll still be the last one standing."

He regarded his foe calmly, but it did not mask his look of pure disdain that clouded his menacing eyes. He was treating him like an insect.

Jarvis was struck with an unquenchable fury upon seeing his demeanor. His whole body shook with rage as he bared his teeth in a domineering manner, seething, "You bastard! I will not kill you today because the sect rules forbid me to do so, but I'll at least make sure you come back as a disgrace! That'll teach you a lesson on what happens after you go against the Refinement Faction!"

Ricky laughed mockingly, raising his eyebrows in disbelief and sneering at the man, "I'm really confused, you know. I wonder if your faction is full of fools like you. You always threaten me with the same empty words. I'm really getting tired of it." He started circling the ground, baiting his opponent into

moving in his set pace. When Jarvis had realized this, he was overcome with unabashed feelings of hate and loathing.

He jumped, his legs pushing against the hard earth for momentum. Clouds of dirt marked where his initial position had been. The strength his legs had mustered upon propulsion leaving deep holes in his wake.

A roar dislodged from his throat as he advanced towards Ricky, his fist swinging to target his foe.

A whirring hum produced by the friction between the spiritual energy and air, quickly escalating to a sonic boom. The force from the strike produced aggressive winds that had the bystanders gripping their seats for stabilization.

In the haze, he pursued Ricky without fail. His tight muscles strained with the strenuous effort of his motions, his clothes reforming to suit his body well to provide no hindrance to his actions. Ricky dodged his unrelenting assaults, his agility allowing him to swiftly move out of harm's way. He was stuck in defense while Jarvis unyieldingly ambushed him.

The Refinement Faction was indeed worthy of its reputation. Without a doubt, every member of the party must boast the same professionally trained form that Jarvis sported.

Ricky blocked another ruthless attempt to break his cover. He gritted his teeth, growing exasperated, "Fine, if your faction is so proud of your own cultivation method, I will defeat you using the same method today!"

He exclaimed, rushing to meet Jarvis head-on. For a brief moment, Jarvis had been caught off guard. Still, he did not waver and instead let a manic grin mar his face as he welcomed Ricky's counter.

Mirroring his cruel smile, Ricky's fist collided with the other

with a more powerful pressure compared to their first contact in the battle. It shook the arena, causing vibrations to travel through metal and tremors to encourage the fall of multiple debris onto the unsuspecting audience. Small tornados sprung from where they were in reaction to the oppression of the air. Their fight had the gravity of an incoming cyclone, outshining even the brewing hurricane from above.

They both stood firmly, their feet were able to keep their balance with the deep trench and their legs dug into the land. With a steady gaze and a deep intake of breath, their skirmish had migrated into the air as they jumped high, their punches and kicks entangled in a violent exchange. Each attack had been packed with a power that reverberated upon contiguity, producing a metallic sound akin to a bass hitting its lowest possible note.

None of them were unscathed; with the amount of bruises and wounds Jarvis had inflicted on Ricky, he also attained.

They were incomprehensible to amateur eyes, too nimble to be seen in normal circumstances. However, the disciples incessantly shouted their praises and cries of thrill and elation.

It was a merciless competition, but it served as material to nostalgia to some like the four Elders and Zenith who were reminded of their youthful days.

A resounding boom echoed throughout the enclosure once again, as Ricky and Jarvis dealt a final blow to the other's shoulder and chest before they separated in retreat.

They landed back on solid terrain, a slight stumble ruining their otherwise seamless landings. Their loathing boiled and seeped through the way they glowered, both swiping an angry hand at the blood gushing out of the corner of their lips.

Commentaries were traded by the populace at the spectacle, hailing and admiring their unmatched toughness, "Ricky's truly on par with the top ten outer disciples! This is really exciting!" Zenith beamed,

influenced by the intoxicating energy, "This is just the beginning. It's bound to get better from now on."