Beware Of Chicken Chapter 299 v7c46: The Dueling Peaks Gala

"Please, this way, Master Rou," Xiulan said, offering a slight bow—and that action signaled the close of our brief pause.

Zhuye and a group of bees would remain with Suyan, as the rest of our group pressed forward. My greatest desire was to keep chatting with everyone, particularly Gou Ren and Xianghua… yet sadly, that moment would come later. Duties called us all. Thus, we donned our finest attire… which for Meimei and me simply meant adding our outer robes. She aimed to appear as a stern, no-frills woman. Though far more confident in her figure these days, Meimei still shied from overly showy garments... especially around unfamiliar faces. With loved ones and close companions, however, she freely displayed her finest pieces.

Meiling accepted my extended arm with a gentle smile. Once again, we ventured into the venerable corridors, surrounded by our companions serving as an escort of honor. The Dueling Peaks' passages seemed far less somber than on my prior visit. Back then, the vibe resembled a tomb. Majestic, awe-inspiring… yet lifeless.

Now, vitality pulsed through it. Vibrant, nearly buzzing with energy.

"It feels just as it ought to," Tianlan murmured telepathically, her tone warm with affection and admiration. "Our modest Blade of Grass… she's truly excelled. They've all performed splendidly."

Indeed they had. Their achievements left me in awe, swelling my heart with pride. Tigu stood out especially; witnessing her growth was truly remarkable.

While proceeding, Xiulan addressed us, detailing the arrangements. "Your group will occupy the head table, joined by me and the Azure Alliance's key figures. During the feast's opening phase, little conversation is required; eyes will fix on the arena's performances. Yet once the primary courses conclude, tables will withdraw, prompting guests to mingle. Proximity to you sparked intense competition. The Hermetic Iron Sect, honoring Tigu's engagement, sits directly right. On your left resides the Grand Ravine Sect, equally well-disposed toward you."

"Anyone we need to watch closely?" I inquired. Troublemakers always lurked somewhere.

"Overt hostility is unthinkable. Challenges seem unlikely at this gathering. It's chiefly a festive occasion," Xiulan assured.

The setup proved simple enough, in essence.

Before long, we entered the chamber adjoining the arena—and suppressing my urge to gape demanded every ounce of restraint as all present turned, beheld us, and bowed. Beside me, Meimei drew a faint breath, her grip tightening on my arm, reality dawning fully. The arena had felt distant before, but here, in this close setting, every gaze would examine us intensely.

A genuine red carpet guided our steps inside, stirring my self-awareness. This mirrored those lavish galas for elites from the old days, or so I pictured. I'd never attended one; mere glimpses from store televisions or channel surfing sufficed. Still, our arrival evoked that grandeur. Thankfully, no camera flashes assaulted us. Not a single recording crystal's tone.

Cultivators donned lavish silks—graceful robes blending with ostentatious designs, some opting for pristine sect uniforms. Women dazzled in striking ensembles, a whirlwind of hues and billowing fabrics. Certain Young Mistresses and Sect Elders favored… snug garments. A few gowns bared ample skin, almost contemporary in boldness.

Realizing my status among the elite jarred me, shifting from urchin or farmer's lad. Meimei and I shared that humble origin, at least.

Yet the performance demanded continuation. Into the opulent chamber we strode, delicate scents wafting toward us. Surprisingly, Azure Hills folk possessed refined noses. Their fragrances stayed subtle and elegant, no nasal assault.

I expected brief socializing, yet my arrival ignited the proceedings. Thus, I adapted swiftly.

"Tie Delan, Master Gen! Eagerly awaiting your son's and disciples' hard-earned displays!" I proclaimed. Pride visibly swelled in both.

"Disappointment won't find you, Master Rou," Master Gen replied with a nod.

Through the portals we advanced into the arena; I took point assertively, brooking no delay. The arena's transformation immediately arched my brow. From brutal colosseum, it had evolved into a grand amphitheater.

Our positions, predictably prime, sat dead center with flawless sightlines to the "stage". Moreover, accommodations suited humans… and Spirit Beasts alike. Washy and Babe enjoyed extended benches for chest rests, sparing them constant standing—a delight for the dragon.

Swiftly, illumination faded, and an announcer's voice boomed.

"The Azure Alliance greets Master Rou Jin and his retinue at the Dueling Peaks," proclaimed a suave, broadcaster-like timbre, silky as a premium concert's audio. "We offer respects, aspiring his approval of our welcome. Behold attractions prepared for your delight. Savor the opening performance."

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Then water surged into the arena. Meimei gasped, eyes alight, as a figure emerged from below, resembling a mystical water sprite.

Xiulan and allied sects had assembled a full production for this spectacle.

Elder Xinling—Music Lady from past visits and Xiulan's tutelage—commenced playing, prompting me to recline and immerse in the display.

The performance shone brilliantly; Elder Xinling excelled. Lady Wu, skilled guzheng player, wept at the melody's splendor, strings echoing arena-wide and stirring my core. Even Tianlan sniffled softly… drawn by the selection.

The melody hailed from Xiaoshi's memory crystal, crafted by Ruolan for an opera.

Xinling rendered it masterfully.

Its close prompted instinctive applause from me, echoes resounding… until custom's recall halted me. Dignity prevailed here; mere subtle taps sufficed typically.

Adjusting, I clapped measuredly, conveying approval over wild cheers I craved—damn, she dominated. Fears of tedium vanished; such caliber promised thrills.

"Fantastic," I declared, voice carrying clearly. Applause spread. Xinling blushed, bowed profoundly, then surfaced smugly triumphant before the platform sank, waves reclaiming her.

"Our next offering brings uniqueness. A display bout in an exotic discipline imparted to the Grand Marshal by Master Rou. Grace, prowess, might, endurance tested—a mock combat where cunning rivals brawn. Verdant Blade Sect and Misty Lake Sect practitioners demonstrate," the velvety voice announced. I froze momentarily, puzzled—until ice enveloped the arena.

She hadn't.

Glancing at Xiulan, I noted her sly smile. Xianghua stood hips akimbo, grin dominating her features. Teams glided from arena flanks; Verdant Blade and Misty Lake disciples locked gazes fiercely. Verdant Blade faces mirrored Xiulan's Solstice war paint—while Misty Lake wore iconic reed hats.

"Witness the mighty Ha Qi art. Tradition names these cultivator squads. Thus, Verdant Blade Sect's Wusheng Heroes face Misty Lake Sect's Dragon-Fisher Herons. The Grand Marshal commences."

Eagerly, I leaned in, fully captivated. Xiulan rose as teams advanced faceoff players. Only that element felt familiar. Formations defied convention: ten per side over standard six, rink vastly enlarged.

"Battle honorably and true!" Xiulan ordered, wrist flick launching the puck centrally.

Thus erupted the conflict.

Motion detonated among players. Four per team collided instantly, sticks brandished as polearms—their rears would've earned ejections back home, yet here it passed muster, riveting baffled cultivators instantly.

Violence in sports captivated universally.

Wusheng Heroes seized first control, storming ahead savagely. The puck darted amid Heroes like a frenzied hare, passes weaving operatic blurs defying sight.

Dragon-Fisher Herons lived up to their title. A forward plunged foe-center, snaring puck momentarily, shattering lines—till cross-checked airborne.

Then frenzy peaked. Speeds neared a hundred miles hourly at full tilt; steel puck impacts thundered like rifle cracks. Acrobatic leaps propelled screaming blasts at padless goalies wielding mere sticks. Deflections hurled returns to squads.

Chaos reigned supreme, control paradoxically absolute. Brawls ignited. Forbidden Before-moves executed brazenly. Brutality defined it. Blood occasionally stained ice.

Perfection incarnate, feast-goers concurred raptly. After initial ten minutes, restraint crumbled: cheers erupted for favorites, roars hailed scores, laughter greeted fresh fisticuffs. Bladed skates forbade kicks, seemingly sole taboo.

Wusheng Heroes clinched 3-2 thriller, last-second passes securing triumph. Respect saluted foes. Dragon-Fisher Herons reciprocated, then honored spectators—proving mutual thrashing bred no grudges.

Battered thoroughly… yet grins beamed universally, hard battle's euphoric afterglow.

…damn, playing below would've rocked insanely.

Amusedly, crowd whispers reached me.

"The agility, instant choices this discipline instills—and from Master Rou! Practical beyond doubt."

"Bladed skate velocities—acquire pairs at once."

"Miniature warfare—captivating. Task disciples forthwith. Azure Horizon Sect shall topple Wusheng Heroes gloriously!"

===============================

Distant, Bai Huizhong gaped. Eyes gleamed brightly. His spirit soared ecstatically.

That… incredible display. Velocity. Force. Clashes!

Puck's ballet under Wusheng Heroes' command. Bold Herons lunging through whirl to reclaim.

Heart pounded fiercely. Craving more views. Demanding endless spectacles.

Roars swelled thunderously. Packed stands brimmed. Central ice expanse gleamed.

Ideas flooded. Endless visions, poised for grandeur. Mortal-adapted variant too. Town squads aplenty. Ultimate tourney!

Trophy gleaming. Clash for supreme victors.

First in ages, Bai Huizhong bypassed, "Profit maximization?"

Instead pondering:

"How to unveil this globally?"

Thoughts spun wildly, cue nearly escaped. Assistant's frantic wave snapped focus.

Coughing, head cleared, he ignited the Resounding Crystal Dias.

"Next arrives Azure Horizon Sect's recitation of Heroic Age poetry relic…"

No pity for their follow-up burden, yet duties bound.

Bai Huizhong confessed mind drifted utterly, ignoring verses.

Sticks and pucks dominated his reverie.