Back at the Coldwind Tournant Arena, tension once again thickened like mist over a spirit spring.
Currently on stage were two figures, both graceful, both deadly.
Wu Min stood at the eastern edge, sleeves fluttering in the breeze, her pale jade robes carrying the lion crest of the Wu Clan. Her eyes were sharp, unreadable. Calm, but not relaxed.
Her opponent stood facing her across the polished white marble platform: Fang i.
Unlike the younger Fang juniors who had earned the crowd’s attention through surprise, Fang i needed no introduction.
Her presence carried the quiet dignity of a rising force.
Already ordained as an elder of the Fang Clan, she had made her na through strength and poise to say her rank was not ceremonial.
Her robes bore the Fang family’s crest proudly, and her expression was composed, neither arrogant nor timid.
From the crowd, murmurs buzzed like flies around lantern light.
"That’s the Young Elder of the Fang Clan..."
"She’s already mid-stage Qi Transformation, isn’t she?"
"Yes. Sa as Wu Min."
"Two mid-stage Qi Transformation cultivators going at it. Finally!"
On the stage, Wu Min spoke first.
"So you’re the Young Elder," she said coolly, her feet gliding a half step forward, exactly three paces away. "The next Fang Yuan, I suppose?"
Fang i’s lips curved, not quite a smile.
"No," she said softly. "I’m nowhere near Elder Brother’s level. He’s a genius... I’m not qualified to be compared to him."
She lowered her stance, fingers poised like coiled silk, spirit energy quietly humming around her.
"But I’m strong enough to win against you."
Wu Min didn’t flinch. She didn’t laugh either.
Instead, her gaze grew more focused.
"I see," she whispered. "Then show ."
Qi surged from both girls at once, silent but searing.
The marble beneath their feet began to tremble.
Two whirlpools of raw spiritual force collided without touching, twisting the air between them.
Wu Min moved first.
A blur.
A whisper of wind.
Her palm shimred:
Mirage Slap.
The sa move that had ended her last match in a single strike.
The air cracked.
But Fang i didn’t freeze.
Her eyes narrowed, and her body twisted at the last second.
Whoosh! CRACK!
The shimring slap arced through the air, Mirage Slap unleashed with perfect form.
Fang i twisted just in ti to avoid a direct hit to the face, but...
Thump!
Wu Min’s palm still struck.
Right across her chest.
A quiet beat passed.
Wu Min blinked. Her hand froze in the air as she registered what had just happened.
Then,
"...Uh," Wu Min said, voice small. "My bad."
Fang i stared at her, face suddenly flushed a brilliant crimson, equal parts sha and pure, simring embarrassnt.
The crowd didn’t know whether to laugh or panic.
Then...
Tap!
She took a graceful step forward.
Swift Step Footwork. A low-grade black-level movent technique. Elegant, precise, and right now, fueled by intense fury.
With a whoosh of spirit energy and a fwip of her sleeve, she drew her blade.
"Fang Family’s Tyrant Light Sword—Third Form: Heaven’s Will!"
Her voice rang through the arena like a silken bell, elegant, deliberate, and laced with fury.
In that instant, Fang i’s sword ignited not with fire alone, but with the blazing light of wounded pride.
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Crimson fla surged up the blade’s length, twisting into gold-edged arcs that danced and hissed like spirits with sothing to prove.
The air bent around her, trembling with spiritual pressure, as if even the heavens had taken a guilty step back.
Unlike the first form, which fired a clean divine beam...
Unlike the second, which intersected light in a calculated star-shaped barrage...
This one flared, wild and free. It wasn’t a technique of control.
It was a declaration.
With a single slash, a curved wave of fla and radiant qi erupted outward like a phoenix clawing its way across the sky, fueled by mortified vengeance.
Wu Min’s eyes widened.
FWOOOOM!
The air scread as Fang i slashed downward, a wave of fiery sword qi tearing across the platform.
Wu Min barely managed to retreat with a blast of her own qi, slipping backward at the last second....
BOOM!
The stage cracked.
Not dented. Not scorched.
Half. The. Stage. Was. Gone.
The tiles were gone. A whole crescent chunk of marble platform now floated lazily as rubble.
Wu Min landed on the edge of what remained, eyes huge.
"You’re not mid-stage! That’s late-stage Qi Transformation!" she shouted, as she steadied herself from the aftermath.
Fang i slowly raised her head, her expression composed... except for the twitch in her brow and the bright red still painting her cheeks.
The crowd was dead silent.
Soone in the stands gulped audibly.
Wu Min gulped louder.
Fang i blinked once, sheathed her sword with a soft click, and gave Wu Min a mild, deadly smile.
"... I’ll kill you."
Wu Min exhaled slowly, her breath steady as a breeze through bamboo.
She shifted her stance, planting her feet with precision, right hand forward, left drawn back near her waist like a coiled spring.
A calm aura enveloped her.
"All right," she said, voice low but clear, "I’m ready."
Across from her, Fang i lifted her sword once more. Her eyes narrowed, lips parting as her spiritual energy surged.
"Tyrant Light Sword—First Form: Divine—"
PA!!
The slap ca without warning.
A ripple of sound echoed across the arena.
Fang i vanished from her spot in a blur of motion, sent skidding back across the marble tiles.
Her boots screeched against the ground until she landed near the far edge, knees bent, sword gripped firmly in her hands.
The air still humd with the leftover force of the Mirage Slap.
Fang i remained composed. Her eyes t Wu Min’s across the stage.
Her voice was even.
"You’re strong."
Then Wu Min stepped forward, lowering her stance slightly as qi gathered around her fingers like silk threading through the air.
"Mid-stage Qi Transformation against Late-stage," she said, her
tone teasing but focused. "You think that’s enough to decide the outco?"
She smirked and brought her arms back into the ready position, aura flaring like a quiet blaze.
"Think again."
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