Chapter 49

  After the shenanigans of the previous match, now it was a match between Lan Xiaoyan of the Grand Harmony Sect and Wei Lian of the Void Pillar Sect.

  “Contestants, step forward!” the gamecaster announced, his voice booming with excitement.

  Xiaoyan rose calmly, sword in hand, his footsteps measured but firm as he descended into the arena. Opposite him, Wei Lian strode with a hint of swagger, carrying a gun-sword hybrid across his shoulder. The weapon gleamed under the formation lights, its barrel etched with runic lines while the blade along its length shimmered with condensed light Qi.

  The ground began to quake as the formation masters raised their hands. With a resonant hum, the battlefield warped and transformed.

  Mist rolled in waves across the arena floor, not ordinary fog but one laced with unpredictable temporal distortions. Shapes bent within it, moving slower or faster than they should, making each step a gamble. Overhead, orbs of light flickered into existence, hovering in random spots like waiting traps—ready to burst into blinding flashes if struck.

  The crowd gasped as a low rumble echoed. From the arena’s edges, cracks split open, glowing with molten fury. Lava began to seep inward, forming a tightening ring that promised to swallow the combatants if they hesitated too long.

  The gamecaster raised his arm high.

  “The stage is set! Do either of you have words for your opponent before the match begins?”

  Wei Lian’s eyes didn’t immediately lock onto Lan Xiaoyan himself. Instead, they gleamed with an almost feverish light as they roamed over Xiaoyan’s blade.

  “That sword…” he breathed, lifting his gun-sword slightly as though in reverence. “The balance of its edge, the faint ripple on the steel, the shade of red-grey in the blade—it’s magnificent.” His voice carried a kind of hushed passion, as though describing a lover. “It sings of precision and power. Truly, a weapon worthy of obsession…”

  Xiaoyan blinked, half-turning his head in disbelief. …What is wrong with this guy?

  He raised a brow and asked, cautiously, “Wait. Are you… getting excited just looking at this sword?”

  “Yes,” Wei Lian answered flatly, without hesitation.

  “…No, I mean—are you getting excited as in… sexually?” Xiaoyan clarified, almost regretting the words as they left his mouth.

  “Yes,” Wei interrupted again, tone perfectly calm, perfectly emotionless.

  Xiaoyan’s grip on his sword faltered for half a heartbeat. “…Okay…?”

  The crowd gave a mixture of laughter and disturbed murmurs, but Wei Lian continued as though nothing was strange about his declaration. His eyes never left Xiaoyan’s blade.

  “That sword will be mine after this battle. I don’t care who you are. I don’t care what sect you come from.” His voice dropped into a sharp edge. “I will cut you down, and this fight will not end until you are dead. For a weapon of that quality—this will be a death match.”

  The arena grew heavier with tension at his words.

  Within the quiet hum of his sword, Lunaria’s voice rang sharp and urgent in Xiaoyan’s mind.

  “Xiaoyan, you cannot lose this fight. I refuse to be wielded by that lunatic—do you hear me? Do not let his hands touch me.”

  Xiaoyan tightened his grip on the red-grey blade, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on handing you over to anyone.”

  From the contestants’ stand, Adam leaned forward, raising a thumbs up with an easy grin. “Go all the way, Xiaoyan!” he called out.

  Xiaoyan glanced his way and gave a firm nod in return.

  The gamecaster’s voice boomed over the arena, drawing everyone’s attention. “On one side, Lan Xiaoyan of the Grand Harmony Sect! On the other, Wei Lian of the Void Pillar Sect! Swords are drawn, elements ready—the match begins now!”

  The signal echoed, and the duel commenced.

  The fog drifted lazily across the arena, shifting in strange and unpredictable flows. Every so often, it thickened into a shimmering veil that distorted the sense of time—sometimes crawling slow, sometimes flashing fast. A tendril of it rolled directly between the two contestants, half-hiding them from each other.

  Wei Lian didn’t wait. With a single flourish, his gun-sword flared with fire Qi, and he immediately pulled the trigger.

  Bang!

  A blazing bullet shot out, slow enough that Xiaoyan thought he could easily slip past it. But before he could exhale, another trigger squeeze followed.

  Bang!

  The second bullet screamed forward, faster than the first, forcing Xiaoyan to twist aside. The sudden mismatch in timing made his pupils tighten. Before he had even adjusted—

  Bang!

  A third bullet flew, even sharper, and to his alarm the first bullet was still lumbering toward him at the back. The order had scrambled completely.

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  “Tch—!” Xiaoyan bent low, twisting his body out of the firing path altogether rather than trying to judge the insane tempo of the shots. Sparks bit against the ground where the bullets struck, exploding into tiny bursts of fire Qi.

  Wei’s grin widened. “Beautiful dodge!”

  Xiaoyan answered by stepping forward in a streak of flame, his body splitting into afterimages. The Blazing Echo Step carried him across the slick ground, and in an instant, he closed the gap.

  Their swords met with a clear, ringing clang!

  The sound of steel on steel echoed sharply in the warped fog. Wei’s expression shifted—eyes dilating, lips curling into an unnerving grin. With every clash, his breathing grew heavier, not from strain, but from something else.

  “Haaah… magnificent tone,” Wei muttered, pressing harder with his blade. “The sonorous bite of your sword—it sings! Each ring is perfect, flawless… intoxicating!”

  Xiaoyan tightened his grip, unsettled by the man’s gaze. This guy… he’s getting off on the sound of swords clashing.

  Steel rang again, louder this time, and Wei shuddered like the vibration alone thrilled him.

  Xiaoyan raised his blade overhead, fire Qi coiling along the edge before erupting downward in a crushing, explosive slash.

  Wei didn’t retreat—he met it head on. His gun-sword whipped upward in an uppercut, his stance loose, his eyes wild. Steel collided in a booming ring, the vibration echoing longer than normal. Wei’s grin stretched wider, almost trembling in delight at the resonance.

  They locked there in a tense standoff, sparks spitting between their blades.

  Then—Wei’s free hand flared with light Qi. A flash burst forth, sharp and blinding.

  “—tch!” Xiaoyan’s eyes seared white, his vision torn away.

  But he didn’t falter. He drove fire Qi into his heel and detonated it against the ground, launching a focused explosion forward toward where Wei stood.

  The blast forced Wei back a few paces, boots skidding across the slippery arena floor. Xiaoyan, eyes narrowed against the whiteness, honed in on the sound of Wei’s landing. His sword hummed, guiding his focus.

  In that instant, he thrust out his hand. A translucent ripple shimmered into being, wrapping around Wei’s lower leg—an Echo Bubble.

  The air distorted as time slowed within the sphere. Wei’s calf sank as though caught in thick, resistant liquid. His movement froze unnaturally, locked in place by the temporal drag.

  Xiaoyan seized the opening. He burst forward, twisting into a flaming kick aimed squarely at Wei’s chest.

  Wei bent backward just in time, the heel whipping past his chin—but not without consequence. He seized Xiaoyan’s ankle mid-swing. With a grunt of effort, Wei pivoted and slammed Xiaoyan down onto the arena floor. The impact cracked the stone, fire scattering around them.

  The Echo Bubble pulsed, weakening from the disruption but still clinging faintly to Wei’s leg, its time-slowing drag gnawing at his balance.

  He snarled under his breath, beginning to wriggle his leg free.

  For Xiaoyan, the slam didn’t leave much damage. At the Foundation Establishment realm, his body was durable enough to shrug off such brute impacts—the pain wasn’t sharp, only a dizzying rattle in his head, the disorienting thrum of his brain being shaken in its cage.

  He pushed himself upright, steadying his breath.

  Above them, the fog rippled. A glowing orb of light shimmered into existence, humming faintly with unstable Qi. Wei didn’t notice it—his crazed focus was fixed entirely on Xiaoyan.

  The gun-sword in Wei’s grip roared to life as he channeled fire Qi into it. Flame surged along the blade and barrel, wild and consuming, as if it had been dipped in a vat of burning oil. With both hands, he raised it for the kill.

  Xiaoyan’s eyes flicked upward, sharp.

  His hand darted to the rubble left by their earlier clash. He snatched a jagged piece of stone and hurled it into the air. The rock cracked into the orb.

  BOOM!

  The orb burst with a deafening hum, flooding the arena with a blinding explosion of light. Wei’s eyes snapped shut too late—the world around him drowned in whiteness. His flaming strike whistled downward but cut only through empty air.

  Whoosh!

  Wei’s instincts screamed. He twisted, raising his blade toward the right side where he felt killing intent surge. But he was slow—just a hair too slow.

  Clang—CRACK!

  Xiaoyan’s sword slammed past the guard, biting against Wei’s shoulder and forcing him back. Sparks and flames scattered across the slick ground as Wei skidded, his boots scraping against stone, the grin on his face faltering for the first time.

  The arena still burned in patches, oily flames clinging stubbornly to the stone where Wei’s flaming slash had missed its mark. Around them, the circle of lava crept ever closer, the oppressive heat gnawing at the edges of their focus. At best, they had only minutes left before the battlefield itself consumed them both.

  Xiaoyan’s grip tightened on his sword as he whispered inward.

  Lunaria… I have an idea.

  Her voice rippled inside his mind, displeased, sharp. I can already feel where this is going—and I don’t like it.

  Please, Xiaoyan urged. Trust me this once.

  A beat of silence. Then a reluctant sigh. Fine… but if this backfires, I’ll never let you forget it.

  He nodded faintly, gaze hardening as he stepped forward. Wei mirrored him, the two locking eyes in tense standoff.

  “Tell me,” Xiaoyan said evenly, “are you truly so obsessed with this sword that you’re willing to kill me for it?”

  Wei didn’t even hesitate. “Killing a fat sheep has always been the way. From ancient cultivators till now, it’s only in the past few centuries that cowards have started moralizing against it. Treasure demands blood. That’s reality.”

  Xiaoyan’s lips curled into a faint grin. “Then I’ve got good news for you.”

  He lifted the blade high, its red-grey steel gleaming with firelight. “HERE—I BESTOW UPON THEE!”

  With a sudden motion, he hurled the sword straight at Wei.

  Wei’s eyes widened, his composure cracking. He lunged for it with both hands, his gaze feverish, almost worshipful. His fingers stretched, trembling with anticipation—

  —then suddenly, his thoughts screeched to a halt.

  Wait… why would he just throw it to me? He can’t be that stupid. No, no, no…

  His mind raced, paranoia flooding in. Don’t tell me—it’s a soul-bound weapon! One of those cursed blades that kills anyone unworthy who dares to touch it?!

  For the first time, doubt flickered in his eyes. His gaze darted to Xiaoyan, who was standing there with the most insufferable impish grin. The kind of grin that screamed my plan is working.

  Wei’s heart sank. I’m done for. The moment I touch it… that’s the end. What a cruel, cruel fate…

  His hand closed around the sword’s handle.

  Wei braced himself, squeezing his eyes shut, waiting for the fatal backlash.

  …

  Nothing.

  Absolutely nothing happened.

  Wei cracked one eye open. “…Huh?”

  A long pause. “…Was I… wrong?”

  When Wei’s eyes darted back to Xiaoyan’s position—he was gone.

  A flash of movement. Suddenly Xiaoyan was right in front of him. His boot crushed down on Wei’s foot, locking him in place, and a blazing fist shot upward into his chin.

  BOOM!

  The explosive uppercut snapped Wei’s head back violently, his brain rattling inside his skull. Dazed, he couldn’t even stagger back because of the pinning foot beneath him.

  Xiaoyan’s voice cut through the haze, low and venomous.

  “Since you were so eager to kill me… you won’t mind if I’m the one who kills you, right?”

  Then came the flurry. Explosive fists pummeled Wei’s head again and again—from the chin, the jaw, the temple, the sides of his skull—each strike detonating like fireworks, rattling his brain in every direction. The air boomed with every hit, the crowd wincing and roaring all at once.

  Xiaoyan reached for his sword, but Wei’s grip on the hilt was ironclad even in his daze.

  “Tch.”

  Without hesitation, Xiaoyan jammed his entire hand into Wei’s mouth, gripping his jaw from the inside. He lifted the Void Pillar disciple high above himself like a struggling animal.

  And then—he unleashed his Qi.

  Explosions erupted inside Wei’s body. His flesh ballooned grotesquely, swelling and trembling as if he were an overfilled wineskin. His eyes bulged, veins bursting under his skin. The expansion grew unstable—until finally, with a sickening BOOM, Wei’s body detonated into a spray of blood and gore that painted the stage crimson.

  The arena fell silent for a heartbeat. Then—

  “The first fatality of the tournament!” the gamecaster’s voice rang out, equal parts shocked and electrified. “The winner—Lan Xiaoyan of the Grand Harmony Sect!”

  The crowd erupted in chaos. Some cheered wildly at the sheer savagery, fists pumping in the air. Others recoiled in horror, faces pale at the gruesome end. But none could deny the spectacle: a bloodbath victory, one that would be remembered.

  And at its center stood Xiaoyan, spattered in blood, his chest heaving, his sword still clutched tightly in Wei’s lifeless hand.

  Xiaoyan stepped off the stage, leaving the arena behind as the formation masters moved in. The scorched ground, splattered with gore, was swiftly cleansed as Wei Lian’s remains were reduced to drifting motes of dust—erased as if he had never been.

  Adam met him just outside the barrier, arms folded and a raised brow.

  “I know I told you to go all out,” he said, “but damn—that was too much.”

  Xiaoyan shot him a flat look, still spattered faintly with blood.

  “Adam… do you remember that practice session where you almost cut me in half?”

  Adam’s expression froze. His hand instinctively scratched the side of his head, sheepish.

  “…Yeah, you’re right.”

  Xiaoyan snorted, shaking his head as he walked past.

  As Xiaoyan left the noise of the crowd behind, the weight of the sword at his side pulsed faintly. Lunaria’s voice echoed in his mind, cool and steady.

  “You did well, Xiaoyan. Cruel, yes—but necessary.”

  He glanced down at the blade, his steps slowing.

  “That man was willing to kill you for me. By ending him the way you did, you’ve shown more than strength—you’ve shown resolve. Now others will think twice before trying to make you their enemy. They’ll remember the lengths you’re willing

  to go, even over something as ‘small’ as one greedy fool.”

  Xiaoyan’s jaw tightened. He knew she was right.

  He let out a low breath. “Then let them remember.”

  The faint hum of Lunaria’s spirit settled back into silence, satisfied.