One Wish to Own the World

The second round ended with 221 disciples left. The second-ranked sect of the round was the Divine Sword Sect with 162 participants, meaning that 59 disciples of the Serene Lotus Sect passed without a fight.

Henry and Ken also go to fight, and they both finished their battles within a few minutes after killing their opponents, excluding the unranked sects' representatives and the Peaceful Demon Sect's whom they defeated without inflicting a lethal injury.

The days passed and Ken and his companions had completed the bracket, winning all the top three spots of the competition for their sect, earning further respect from their fellow disciples and elders.

In the later days, while his friends were busy at the 3v3 bracket, Ken sat in his tent and held his sword in his hands, the blade resting on his right hand while his left hand was under the hilt. He closed his eyes and delved into deep meditation, feeling the metal touch against his skin.

'The sword… it's sharp, it cuts, it pierces, it's made of metal.'

Ken pondered about the characteristics of the sword while he replayed many scenes of himself using it. He recalled the lessons and sparring he had with his grand-uncle, Fernando. The eighth-stage cultivator had let him experience a lot of techniques imbued with intent. 

'Not only that, I also experienced Sword Intent in the challenges of the secret realm, it wasn't any less impressive, probably even of a higher quality.'

In his mind, the sword disappeared and only his arms remained. In a weird sense, his arms were the sword, and the sword were his arms. The two merged into one another, and his muscles whistled as they moved flexibly, the tip of his fingers as honed as the sword itself.

He replayed in his mind the moments in which he had cut, sliced, stabbed, or slashed at enemies or objects, his brain calculating and analyzing the way the sword worked. It was not science or physics; in the cultivation world, actions had meaning, and the world itself had meaning. Not one given by a superior being, but one given by the one who executes the action and by the objects involved.

When he cut something, it was to destroy, an action meant to take a life away. His Sword Intent implemented his Bloodlust Intent, both were embodiments of death and destruction.

Quiet noises echoed inside his tent, confined within the formation that did not allow them to get out. It was the nose of a blade hitting stones, generated by the Ken's wave toward the tent's walls. It was a casual attack from a distance, and the runes inscribed on the tent could easily absorb them.

'Sword Intent,' Ken let a long sigh out as he relaxed his tensed body and looked at his fingers. It was powerful. Extremely powerful.

When he developed Bloodlust Intent, he could only estimate the way it would affect his enemies' minds, and he never even used it so far, keeping it as a trump card for later. 

However, the physical attacks of the sword could be assessed easily, and he knew that those attacks were far stronger. With intent, he could produce the same power with his strike as he could with a weapon without intent. In essence, he could win the 5v5 bracket using only his arms for a weapon at the same ease that he could win it with a sword.

He spent more than 3 days in reclusive cultivation, exploring the secrets of intents, until he could comprehend his. 

He understood a long time ago that his wish from the god he met during his rebirth, to be capable of understanding everything and anything after a single glance, was not truly granted as he was not capable of achieving something like that. 

However, he did not have bad feelings about it. That god was probably a cultivator themselves, and the best they could do for him was enhance his brain in a way that changed its constitution to something superior to that of other humans.

The boost they provided to his brain allowed him to achieve more than any other mortal could ever dream of. Even the "long three days" it took him to comprehend intent was an unimaginable achievement for a fifth-stage cultivator like him. 

'Good, now it's time to see how I can integrate the intent into my techniques.' Ken did feel happiness about having one more breakthrough, however, his cold mind process worked pragmatically, urging him to find a practical way to use his intent.

He spent the next days implementing his intent into his techniques within his tent, even strengthening it further with formations to withhold his blows as he experimented. 

The aura of danger and sharpness emanated from his location to his surroundings, making George avoid his proximity. Even the other three felt uncomfortable whenever they came to rest between rounds, making them go watch the projections of the previous rounds rather than rest.

"Team Leader, it's time for the 5v5 bracket in half an hour."

Ken stopped his training when he heard Alaric's voice from his communication device. His muscles twitched a little as if they were going to attack the wall once more, but he held back and returned the sword to its hilt. While he wanted to train more, he could not avoid the competition.

He removed his robes and washed himself with a water technique before putting on new, clean robes. He still disliked dirt and sweat, and the piles of clean clothes in his storage ring were a good testament to it. He stored the dirty robes in his storage ring along with the others he had changed, intending to give them to Soul when he returned.

The young teen left his tent and found his companions waiting for him outside. The five descended the mountain together, receiving respectful nods and fist cups from everyone on their way down; nobody thought they did not deserve their spot near the summit anymore, not even those who considered themselves stronger. The group's exploits in the Martial Arts Summit have earned them everyone's appreciation.

They stepped onto the platform as always before a round began and waited for Steve's deep voice to announce the beginning of a new bracket.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome back for the 5v5 bracket of the bloodiest age group we have had in the Martial Arts Summit in thousands of years! This year is a tragedy for every sect in our continent. The best inner disciples and core disciples were killed, let's hope for a less deadly bracket!"

Steve's voice sounded sincerely worried, somewhat calming the bloodthirsty crowd. It was all a façade he had to put on, a front that 'reminded' the audience that the competition was a friendly bout and comparison of strength. Righteous people did not kill others where it was uncalled for. 

In the first place, killing was only allowed so the disciples could unleash their deadliest techniques and not for the sake of killing. Aside from when sects wanted to settle wars between themselves by pitting the young generation against each other, the number of deaths wouldn't get to the double-digit in a bracket.

"Let us applaud the contenders as they enter, we have 1621 teams today! The first round is a battle royale until only 256 teams remain!"

A countdown appeared in the sky, and the audience shouted the numbers with it until it reached zero, and all the participants were sent away.

"There aren't many teams this round, it seems like the sects didn't fill their quotas. Do you know why?" George pondered as the five appeared on the open stone quarter. If the sects sent as many disciples as they could, there would be 2100 teams.

"Because we killed them already. Most disciples participate in two brackets, and many of the current fighters are the survivors of the 2v2 bracket," Tiara explained what she had observed. "Since we killed thousands of cultivators back then, the sects are out of teams."

"Haha, how unlucky! They managed to avoid us last time only to get killed now!" Alaric laughed when he heard her.

"We guide lost lambs to the light; those who meet us are lucky and enlightened," Henry opposed Alaric's words that depicted them as killers.

"Enough chatting. Since every team has five participants, there will be someone who can counter illusions or resist mind control in every team. Alaric and Henry you can stay here while Tiara and I go to the frosty plain to hunt more teams. George, just stay with them and you will be safe."

Unlike the time they had to deal with up to 18 enemies at once, the battle royale was not limited to a certain number, and even Ken himself could be overwhelmed if hundreds cooperated to take him down, let alone Tiara and Alaric who were weaker and did not develop intent as far as he knew. Hence, they did not separate completely but worked in pairs.

Ken leaped into the sky fearlessly, inviting anyone to challenge him if they dared. He looked around him to find the way to the icy quarter while he slowed down his descent with his Qi. 

"We are going over there," Ken pointed at a certain area and the two set out. They killed those in their way, both staying on guard with their detection techniques. Tiara's technique relied on heat and coldness to find living creatures while Ken's depended on bloodlust.

"Are you ready to combine our techniques and see if we can make combinations work?" Ken asked the woman by his side. The power of a group was not when they fought at the same time, but when the combined power of the members was stronger than a simple addition of the two attacks.

"Sure."