Hours passed, and the first batch of matches on the six platforms concluded. Elder Lǐ's voice echoed through the grounds, "The winners of the first round are:
Platform One: Duō Chóng
Platform Two: Duō Líng
Platform Three: Duō Méi
Platform Four: Duō Wěi
Platform Five: Duō Lín
Platform Six: Duō Shēn
"These descendants have proven their strength and will proceed to the next round."
Elder Lǐ raised his hand, and a translucent screen materialized before him. With a swift gesture, the screen displayed the names of the next set of participants.
"The following people should proceed to their platforms:
Platform One: Duō Jiāo vs. Duō Sù
Platform Two: Duō Zēn vs. Duō Lián
Platform Three: Duō Xuān vs. Duō Jié
Platform Four: Duō Jùn vs. Duō Míng
Platform Five: Duō Hóng vs. Duō Lóng
Platform Six: Duō Yī vs. Duō Zhì"
The assembly erupted into murmurs as descendants analyzed the pairings. Some spectators exchanged skeptical glances, remarking on Duō Zhì's luck.
"Looks like Elder Duō Jì's son gets to fight the Clan Head's useless son," a voice sneered from the crowd.
"Yeah, Duō Yī doesn't stand a chance against Duō Zhì. He's going to get demolished," another spectator chimed in.
"This is hardly a fight. Duō Zhì's going to make a fool out of him," someone else jeered.
"Lucky bastard gets to fight the weakest here. Wish I was that lucky," another muttered bitterly.
Duō Yī's eyes locked onto his opponent, Duō Zhì, son of Elder Duō Jì, a renowned strategist and one of the most respected members of the Duō Clan's Council.
Duō Zhì stood at 5'9" with an unassuming yet athletic build. His short, dark brown hair framed his sharp face, and his narrow blue eyes gleamed with cunning.
Duō Zhì's reputation among the descendants was well known. He was known for his skills at misdirection, deception, and sub-par swordsmanship. He wielded a slender, crystal-tipped sword called "Lǐ Huǒ" (Cold Frost), given to him by his father—a weapon perfectly suited for his agile and quick fighting style.
As Duō Yī approached Platform Six, he assessed his opponent with a mixture of disdain and confidence.
"Tch, I get a weakling as my first battle? I'll end this quickly."
Duō Zhì, however, smiled slyly, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. "Looks like I get to toy with the Clan Head's son," he sneered. "A free pass to the next round, served on a silver platter. Guess I can put on a show. This should be entertaining."
The crowd's anticipation grew as the next round's pairings held some of the best fighters among the younger generation. The names Duō Jiāo, Duō Míng, and Duō Hóng were met with whispers of admiration and excitement, their reputations solid among the descendants. But as spectators watched Duō Zhì's sly grin and Duō Yī's cold gaze, all eyes lingered on Platform Six.
Elder Lǐ's voice cut through the chatter, "The next round will commence simultaneously. Participants, take your places!"
The assembly dissolved into a flurry of activity as descendants hastened to their designated platforms. The battles were about to intensify, and only the strongest would prevail.
On Platform Six, Duō Zhì taunted, "Ready to show everyone what a disappointment you are, Clan Head's son? Or will you finally surprise us?" His voice dripped with mockery, yet Duō Yī met each jab with a steady, unwavering gaze, unshaken.
"Nothing to say? Come on, at least make this interesting," Duō Zhì continued, trying to provoke a reaction.
Duō Yī's cold stare was his only response, refusing to let his opponent's words pierce his calm.
"Begin!" Elder Lǐ declared.
The platforms exploded into motion, a chaotic symphony of shouts, clashing steel, and raw power.
Duō Yī and Duō Zhì circled each other, their eyes locked in a silent, deadly challenge.
The battle had begun.