The Supreme Eternal Prime God : 1000x System From Beginning

Chapter 17 – The Battlefield of Ten

The moment the first light of dawn stretched across the sky, casting a golden glow over the vast expanse of Azure Dragon Academy, the air itself seemed to thrum with barely contained tension, the whispers of hundreds of disciples mingling in hushed anticipation, their voices carrying across the massive open grounds surrounding the Grand Tournament Arena, a coliseum of ancient stone that had borne witness to countless battles throughout the academy’s long history.

Today, it would witness something new.

Something unprecedented.

The Outer Court Selection Tournament had begun.

And all eyes were on one man.

Xiao Lin stood in the center of one of the massive stone platforms that had been prepared for the first round, his golden-flecked eyes calm, unreadable, as he observed the other nine disciples that had been placed in his group, their expressions a mixture of barely hidden anxiety and thinly veiled hostility, their hands tightening around the weapons at their sides as they struggled to conceal the growing realization that they had been thrown into a battle they could not win.

The rules were simple—ten enter, three survive.

It was not merely about defeating an opponent. It was about endurance, strategy, and sheer, unrelenting domination.

A disciple could not flee. They could not surrender. The only way to leave this stage was to either stand victorious or be dragged out unconscious.

For many, this was their chance.

A chance to prove themselves.

A chance to claim a place in the Inner Court.

But for Xiao Lin—it was merely another step forward.

The Elder overseeing the match raised his hand.

"Let the battle begin!"

A deafening gong rang out, its deep, resonating sound echoing across the battlefield.

And in that instant—chaos erupted.

Two disciples lunged at each other immediately, their weapons clashing in a blur of steel and Qi-enhanced strikes, while another group of three engaged in a vicious exchange of blows, their eyes burning with desperation as they sought to eliminate their competition before they themselves could be eliminated.

But through all the movement, through all the fights breaking out across the stage, there was one person who remained perfectly still.

Xiao Lin had not moved.

Had not drawn a weapon.

Had not even lifted his hands.

He simply stood there, watching.

Waiting.

And that alone was enough to send a ripple of unease through the battlefield.

The first to hesitate was a tall, broad-shouldered disciple wielding a massive war hammer, his breath uneven as he stole a glance at Xiao Lin, his fingers tightening around the handle of his weapon.

He had seen what Xiao Lin had done to Wei Tong.

He had heard the whispers of his impossible strength, his unshakable confidence, his terrifying precision in combat.

And yet—this was still a battle.

This was still a test of strength.

And in a battle, hesitation was death.

With a sharp growl, the disciple surged forward, his war hammer descending toward Xiao Lin’s head like a falling mountain.

The attack was fast. Brutal. Merciless.

But the moment it came within range—Xiao Lin moved.

A single step.

Effortless.

Casual.

And yet—it was enough.

The war hammer sliced through empty air, crashing into the stone platform with a deafening explosion, cracks spiderwebbing across the surface beneath its weight.

The disciple’s eyes widened in shock—

And then, Xiao Lin was behind him.

His hand tapped lightly against the man’s back.

And then—he struck.

A pulse of Qi exploded outward, invisible but devastating, sending the massive disciple hurtling forward, his war hammer slipping from his grasp as he crashed into the far end of the stage, his body crumpling against the stone like a broken doll.

Silence.

One attack.

One single attack.

And one of the ten had already fallen.

The remaining disciples froze, their minds struggling to process what had just happened.

That wasn’t just strength.

That wasn’t just speed.

That was absolute control.

But there was no time to hesitate.

A second disciple broke first, his fear twisting into reckless aggression as he unleashed a flurry of blade strikes, each one enhanced by his Qi, each one aimed at vital points, each one designed to kill.

He never landed a single hit.

Xiao Lin sidestepped the first strike.

Tilted his head to avoid the second.

Stepped forward—inside the man’s guard.

Then, with a single, precise motion, he grasped the wrist holding the sword—

And crushed it.

CRACK.

A scream tore from the disciple’s throat as his weapon clattered to the ground, his eyes filled with sheer agony.

But Xiao Lin did not let him fall.

Instead, he grabbed him by the collar—

And threw him into the third disciple who had dared to move against him, sending them both flying off the stage in a tangled heap.

Three were down.

Seven remained.

But none of them dared to move.

High above the arena, seated in a private observation pavilion, a group of Inner Court Elders watched in silence, their expressions unreadable as they observed the battle unfolding below.

For most of the tournament’s history, the first round was nothing more than a formality, a chaotic clash of lower-ranked disciples fighting for survival, a battlefield of meaningless skirmishes that held little interest to the academy’s true power holders.

But this year—things were different.

This year, there was Xiao Lin.

One of the elders, an aged man with sharp, piercing eyes, exhaled slowly, his fingers steepled before him as he murmured, "He is playing with them."

Another elder, a woman with a cold, calculating expression, nodded. "He could have ended this fight instantly."

"Then why hasn’t he?" a younger elder questioned, his brow furrowed.

The aged man chuckled softly.

"Because he is making a statement."

Below them, Xiao Lin stood alone in the center of the battlefield, his golden eyes sweeping across the remaining disciples with an expression of quiet amusement, his stance completely relaxed, his aura undisturbed, as if he were merely watching insects struggle against the inevitable.

Then, he lifted a hand—

And beckoned them forward.

His voice was calm.

Unhurried.

"Come."

The remaining disciples staggered back.@@novelbin@@

Because at that moment, they realized the truth.

This wasn’t a fight.

This was a massacre.

And Xiao Lin was merely choosing how long it would last.