Mystique Soul: A Cultivator's Flame
Chapter 48

Chapter 48: Chapter 48

The peaceful peaks of the Feng Clan territory abuzzed. The main gate that stood tall at the base of the mountain. The aged wood riddled in barely discernable cracks amongst the exquisite carvings of phoenixes dancing amongst the cloud, Its surface bore the marks of time, yet the artistry remained timeless, exuding an aura of quiet dignity. The faint sheen of polished lacquer caught the light, making the phoenixes seem as if they were truly aflame, their wings poised for flight. Each carving told a story of resilience, as if the very wood carried the weight of the clan’s history within its grain. Golden accents traced the edges of the phoenixes and clouds, subtle yet impossible to miss, whispering of wealth and power without the need for grandiose displays. Beneath the intricate beauty, the wood itself emanated strength, as though it had weathered storms and still stood unyielding.

"Dad, hurry up! The duels are about to start" A young boy excited dragged his father through the gate.

"I can’t believe we can actually enter the Feng Clan! THE Feng Clan! Do I look okay?" A sweet and cute girl bounced around her friend, fixing her short skirt, a blush present on her face as she looks around.

"You look perfect Mei. what about me, am I overdressed?" Her friend asked. Both where beatifully dressed, not a single hair out of place.

"I wonder what made them open their gates this time?" A cultivator grinned widely. "Awfully suspicious considering the last time was... spectacular" he chuckled.

The last time the Feng Clan held something like this, it was upon the fourth young master’s request where he garnered absulote victory over the stage and it made everyone realise that the weakest of the Four Flames of the Feng clan is by no means weak.

"Awrooooo!" A beast’s howl from on top of the mountain made everyone hasten as they climb the mountain, cultivators unmounting their swords or mounts before the gate as portals open and close to let everyone through.

The entire area was brimming with life as vendors set their stolls at the giant wall, merchants of all kinds taking advantage of the buzz to sell their wares and merchandise.

The entire area was even more lively than the outside, with anticipation surging in the air as the duels began, the members of the Feng Clan entering the platform with dazzling introduction, brandishing their weapons and elements, be it Qi or magic as they stepped into the stage.

One by one, the stepped onto the polished stone stage one after another, their expressions ranging from steely determination to eager excitement. Above them, the grandstands roared with cheers and jeers, nobles and commoners alike leaning forward in their seats, captivated by the raw display of power.

"Whoop!"

"Feng Kai beat their @ss!"

"Miss Pei! You look so beautiful! You can do it!"

"Tao don’t you dare lose!"

"Mr cultivator in white and red hair, I’m betting on you!"

"Kyaaa! It’s Feng Lin! Husband! Look at me!"

The stage itself, an expansive circular platform etched with intricate formations to withstand even the fiercest attacks, pulsed faintly with protective energy. Sparks of qi and flashes of magic lit up the air as the first competitors clashed.

A young cultivator, Feng Lin stepped forward, his sword gleaming under the sunlight as he faced off against a mage cloaked in flowing azure robes. The mage smirked, summoning a swirling vortex of wind with a flick of his wrist.

"Let’s see if that sword can handle a storm," the mage, Feng Lin taunted, sending the vortex hurtling forward."NirathVaelthar!" ’Blade Cyclone’

Whoosh! The vortex swiftly tore through the air as it headed for Feng Lin.

Feng Lin grinned "Too weak" his blade glowing faintly as he infused it with qi. With a sharp cry, he swung, slicing through the wind with a burst of energy. The force of his strike sent a shockwave through the arena, drawing gasps from the crowd.

Not to be outdone, the Feng Lin chanted quickly "VarlthatZhatnaVelDharen!" ’Piercing Air tear through my foe’ summoning a barrage of wind arrows that rained down like a storm. Feng Lin darted through them, his movements swift and precise, and in a flash, his blade was at the mage’s throat.

"The winner: Feng Lin!" the announcer declared, and the crowd erupted into cheers as the two competitors exchanged respectful nods.

"Kyaaa, Feng Lin! Feng Lin Feng Lin"

"Did you see that?! He cut through the air!"

"That was awesome"

"I swear I could feel his Qi presence from here"

"Who cares! Did you see what the mage casted?! A level three spell! That was a level three spell!!!!"

The next match was even more intense. A fiery-haired girl named Feng Meixia faced off against a stoic boy wielding dual sabers. Meixia’s fingers danced as she conjured a roaring wave of fire, the flames surging forward like a living beast.

The boy crossed his sabers, forming a protective arc of energy that parted the flames just in time. He countered with a whirlwind of slashes, his qi-infused blades cutting through the air with sharp precision. Meixia leapt back, her feet skimming the edge of the platform, and with a defiant yell, unleashed a burst of fire that engulfed the stage in a brilliant blaze.

When the flames died down, the boy stood at the center, his sabers glowing faintly, his clothes singed but his resolve unbroken. With a final surge of power, he disarmed Meixia and sent her flying off the stage.

As the matches continued, the atmosphere grew electric. Friends cheered for their comrades, rivals exchanged barbed words as they prepared for their turns. A mage conjured an ice barrier to block a cultivator’s ferocious punches, only to have it shattered by sheer force. Another fight saw two cultivators lock blades in a dazzling flurry of strikes and counters, their movements so fast that they became a blur of energy.

One of the most thrilling duels featured a young mage who commanded lightning. His opponent, a quiet girl with a spear, dodged bolts of crackling electricity with uncanny precision. She moved like water, fluid and unpredictable, her spear glowing with golden light as she struck. Each attack was perfectly timed, breaking through the mage’s defenses until he was forced to concede.

The crowd was on their feet now, their excitement palpable. Each victory was met with raucous applause, each defeat with sympathetic murmurs. The youths fought not only for honor but for the chance to prove themselves, their passion igniting the very air around them.

A young cultivator leapt into the air, his spear spinning like a deadly whirlwind. His opponent, a mage with an affinity for water, summoned a wall of cascading waves to block the attack. The spear pierced through with a sharp burst of qi, sending water spraying across the platform in a glittering arc. The mage retaliated with a whip of water that lashed out like a serpent, only to have it severed mid-strike by the cultivator’s precise thrust.

The crowd barely had time to cheer before the next match began. Two sword-wielders faced off, their movements so swift it seemed like their blades danced in the air. Sparks flew with each clash, the sharp ring of steel cutting through the cheers. One cultivator feinted left, drawing his opponent in, only to flip mid-air and deliver a spinning slash that grazed his rival’s shoulder. The crowd gasped, the thrill palpable as the defeated opponent stumbled back, conceding the match.

A thunderous roar announced the next battle. A burly youth with fists encased in crackling stone charged at a mage whose hands glowed with electric sparks. The mage sidestepped with a flicker of light, sending arcs of lightning coursing toward his opponent. The stone fists absorbed the first strike, but the mage didn’t let up. Lightning spears rained down, forcing the cultivator to his knees. With a desperate yell, the stone-wielder slammed his fists into the ground, sending a shockwave rippling outward. The mage barely escaped, the edge of the stage crumbling beneath him as he jumped to safety.

The battles grew fiercer. One combatant summoned a storm of fire, the flames roaring like a beast as they surged toward his opponent. The other, a girl wielding twin daggers, danced through the inferno, her weapons spinning like pinwheels of light. She closed the distance in an instant, slashing at the fire mage’s robes and forcing him to yield under the onslaught.

The air seemed to vibrate with tension as a particularly flashy match unfolded. A young mage conjured crystalline shards of ice, launching them in a dazzling volley at her opponent, a cultivator armed with a massive broadsword. The shards shattered against the sword in a cascade of glittering fragments, but the mage was relentless. She stomped the ground, sending icy tendrils racing toward the cultivator’s feet. The cultivator roared, slamming his sword down with enough force to break the ice and send a shockwave straight at the mage. She was knocked back but recovered quickly, her eyes gleaming with determination as she prepared her next spell.

The audience was completely enraptured, their cheers blending into a cacophony of excitement. Each duel seemed to push the limits of both skill and creativity, and the youths onstage gave everything they had, their pride and determination igniting the air around them.

Finally, a hush fell over the arena as the next name was called. "Feng Jiao Xue!"

Whispers rippled through the crowd. Many turned to each other, confused. Wasn’t she the clan’s so-called "trash"?

From the sidelines, a figure stepped forward. Feng Jiao Xue’s expression was calm, almost serene, as she ascended the stage. Her movements were graceful, unhurried, yet there was a quiet strength in the way she carried herself. The crowd watched with bated breath, their curiosity and disbelief giving way to anticipation.

As she took her place at the center of the stage, her opponent smirked, clearly underestimating her. But Feng Jiao Xue didn’t falter. She raised her hand, her fingers curling slightly, and a faint golden aura began to shimmer around her.

The match was about to begin, and the crowd couldn’t tear their eyes away.