I Just Wanted To Live but I Somehow Became Better Than the Protagonist

Fortunately, this wasn’t a matter of who won moving up in rank, and then the two groups continued to fight. The first round of the Hundred Strong competition aimed to assess the cultivators’ levels, so a random drawing method was used for the order.

Of course, not all cultivators were willing to reveal their true strength. Tian Luo Sect was quite humane in this regard; with the randomly arranged list, if you could fight, you fought; if you couldn’t, that was it. Whether you intentionally lost or not, the managers would only assess your displayed level in the first round to gauge your approximate strength and then consider the situation to arrange the matchups.

In the novel, early on, “Ye Yong” had various schemes against the protagonist. The protagonist had already absorbed enough sustenance, and “Ye Yong,” having danced too long in the spotlight, had lost his purpose and was due to exit the stage. Thus, the clash between “Ye Yong” and Long Tian was not in the finals, but rather in the top eight.

After overcoming the mentally shattered “Ye Yong,” Long Tian naturally advanced to the finals, only to be defeated by a rather low-key yet formidable prodigy.

This prodigy regarded Long Tian with newfound respect, considering him a worthy ally, and thus became the protagonist’s companion in the sacrificial rites.

In any case, when Ye Yong saw that the match list bore little difference from the novel, he inwardly cursed his misfortune—he was to face Long Tian!

Fighting the protagonist was not terrifying; what was truly dreadful was the next match against the protagonist. One either became sustenance or a sacrificial companion. Either way, Ye Yong was unwilling.

“What’s wrong, Junior Brother Ye? Your expression suddenly turned so serious.”

“The one fighting him… is called Wu Shuai? Does anyone know him?”

“Inner disciple of the Sword Pavilion, Wu Shuai. It’s said he broke through to the fourth layer of crystallization just days ago, and his sword intent has reached the late crystallization stage. He’s quite a talented sword cultivator.” One of the junior sisters was well-informed. After all, some of the junior sisters had not initially come to join the Sound and Image Hall purely for Ye Yong. Upon joining, they discovered their own talent for sound and image, and thus focused on their cultivation. Yet, they still kept an eye on matters of importance, a habit from before they became sound and image cultivators.

As the saying goes, know thyself and know thy enemy, and you shall never be defeated.

“Junior Brother Ye has initial-stage Golden Core sword intent; he should be fine, right?”

“Sword intent is one thing, sword techniques another… But I believe Senior Brother Ye can definitely manage.”

In truth, even the junior sister who had studied the sword had little confidence, for Ye Yong was truly enigmatic. The outside world had no idea what techniques he possessed, what methods he practiced, or to what extent he had cultivated.

His exploits were numerous, yet upon closer inspection, they seemed unrelated to his cultivation strength, especially in the century-old secret realm where he captured an undercover agent and escaped the Black Water Secret Realm. Many believed that the Ye family had provided him with numerous treasures, allowing Ye Yong to turn peril into safety.

Now, the serious contemplation on Ye Yong’s face was precisely because he found his opponent quite formidable, wasn’t it?

Ye Yong’s expression caught the eyes of some observant individuals, particularly the senior brothers who felt the female cultivators had become bewitched but were now reluctant to suppress Ye Yong’s rising momentum. They all eagerly anticipated the arrival of the match in Group 19.

Only after Ye Yong had torn away his flawless facade could they continue to peel back the layers from the opening he created.

After today, heh, there would be no more talk of the East Continent’s number one prodigy.

11 Sparring Partner

Half an hour later, the matches of the first eighteen groups concluded, with no standout performances. It could be said that all eyes were set on the nineteenth group.

After all, this was Ye Yong’s first battle in front of the public; it was impossible not to be curious.

Ye Yong’s opponent, Wu Shuai, had been in a state of restless anxiety since the moment his name appeared on the list, his back drenched in sweat.

Nervousness, fear, excitement—he could not articulate his feelings.

His companions nearby wore expressions of schadenfreude. Facing Ye Yong, losing might still be the better outcome, aligning with the expectations of the crowd. If he were to defeat Ye Yong or, worse, make him lose embarrassingly, it didn’t matter whether Ye Yong’s reputation was tarnished; Wu Shuai would certainly face the ire of the female cultivators, losing his chances for courtship within the sect for a long time to come.

After all, Ye Yong’s status was undeniable, and as a practitioner of sound and painting, he belonged to the scholarly ranks. A swordsman, with their lethal prowess, defeating a scholar was hardly something to boast about. Thus, regardless of the outcome, Ye Yong would hold the moral high ground; losing to him was better than winning.

But Wu Shuai could not betray his own heart and intentionally lose. He was a swordsman, and the direction of his sword was the path he must tread. Ye Yong was a formidable foe; to falter once against such an opponent would lead to faltering twice. To grow stronger was an absolute necessity.

As Wu Shuai stepped onto the expansive platform of several thousand square meters, Ye Yong approached from the opposite side. Seeing Ye Yong up close, Wu Shuai inwardly marveled at why the female cultivators held such a unanimous opinion of him. Even he, a man, found Ye Yong handsome; they were simply incomparable, especially with that ethereal aura, a quality not possessed by ordinary folk.

With hands clasped in a respectful bow, Wu Shuai greeted Ye Yong politely, casting aside his chaotic thoughts. In the next moment, his long sword was drawn, his gaze sharpening.

On Ye Yong’s side, he unsheathed a mysterious-grade sword, clearly indicating that, despite his eclectic studies, he intended to compete as a swordsman. After all, he could not reveal all his techniques.

“This is getting interesting—a swordsman of sound and painting against one who has trained solely in the Sword Pavilion.”

While many of the junior sisters were convinced Ye Yong would surely win, several senior brothers were merely spectators, eager to see the unfolding drama.

Ye Yong’s past as a swordsman was no secret; everyone knew he had studied the sword for ten years before inexplicably turning to sound and painting upon entering the sect.

The initial stage of the Golden Core, sword intent? To comprehend it at the crystallization level was impressive, but if one hadn’t wielded a sword for too long, they could become rusty. Not to mention facing an opponent who had dedicated most of their time to swordsmanship.

“I’m coming!” The psychological pressure compelled Wu Shuai to announce his intent. As a top-tier fire spirit root, he summoned his spiritual power, flames coiling around his sword as he charged at Ye Yong with fierce attacks, executing a set of advanced fire sword techniques with remarkable skill, each strike delivered with full force.

Ye Yong was not the protagonist of a tale, lacking the penchant for theatrics—pretending to be evenly matched only to triumph at the last moment, or instantaneously defeating his opponent to elicit gasps of disbelief from the crowd. He had his own considerations and methods. The purpose of the match was to spar, a means for the higher-ups of Tianluo Sect to assess their disciples’ strengths. Yet, the spirited youth often viewed it as an opportunity to show off.

“Clang, clang, clang.” With an air of ease, Ye Yong deflected every one of Wu Shuai’s strikes, even pointing out the obvious flaws in his technique.

Every movement a person made would affect their body in various ways, especially during an attack; excessive motion could expose vulnerabilities. Cultivators were no exception; even with spiritual protection, one must not forget that their opponent was also a cultivator, capable of breaching that defense.

As Wu Shuai continued to fight, he began to question whether this was truly a battle or merely a one-sided lesson from Ye Yong. But he understood clearly that the outcome was already decided; he could not breach Ye Yong’s defenses, and Ye Yong’s identification of his flaws proved that he had far greater understanding of the sword.

—

Unless bound by blood or the tutelage of a master, even fellow disciples seldom point out one’s flaws. Yet, as a first-time opponent, Ye Yong boldly laid bare Wu Shuai’s many shortcomings. Wu Shuai did not feel humiliated; rather, he sensed a rare opportunity for growth, a chance to learn and correct himself.

“Thank you, Brother Ye, for your guidance!” After executing one set of sword techniques, then another, for a full ten minutes, Wu Shuai had exhausted all but his fallback moves. With his spiritual energy nearly depleted, he clasped his fists and bowed his head in surrender.

In pure combat, an opponent would reveal nothing, instead seeking to uncover and exploit weaknesses, striking directly to force the loser into reflection afterward.

But in battling Ye Yong, most of the issues were laid bare. With correction, not only would he break through his current limits, but his strength would surely grow more robust.

This was far more beneficial than simply losing a fight.