The battle took another turn at the exact mont those sky-blue eyes opened completely.
In the stands, a collective shiver ran through the crowd.
"He changed again..."
"That energy... it’s completely different from before..."
If before Kyrian seed like a genius disciple of a sword sect, wrapped in sharp intent and impeccable technical mastery, now he seed like another person.
His posture remained upright, but the presence emanating from him was cold, distant. His eyes were no longer green blades ready to cut, they were glacial abysses.
A cold intent spread through the arena.
It was not just temperature. It was sothing deeper. As if the very concept of movent was being slowed around him. The air grew heavy. The breath of so spectators in the front rows ford mist.
Zhao Ren was completely caught off guard.
The ice that had exploded around Kyrian still restrained part of his body when he forced his Qi to the limit.
A dark layer enveloped his limbs, vibrating intensely. With a muffled crack, he shattered the spikes holding him and leapt backward, sliding across the arena until he gained dozens of ters of distance.
As soon as he stopped, he felt it.
A sharp pain ran through his arms, legs, and torso.
He lowered his eyes for a mont.
His skin was whitish. Not rely pale, but burned. Small red fissures marked the points where the ice had touched him. Frostbite burns. Just a few seconds of contact had caused that.
Zhao Ren inhaled deeply and expanded his Qi even further around his body, forming a constant defensive layer to contain the residual icy energy that insisted on invading his ridians.
He let out an exasperated sigh.
"I thought only that sword was already terrifying..."
His voice ca out low, almost to himself.
"But he still has this..."
At the center of the arena, Kyrian did not advance. Did not run. He only watched. Cold. Silent.
While Zhao Ren tried to reorganize his thoughts, Kyrian slowly raised his right hand. The gesture was simple, but the effect was not.
Ice erged from his eyes like an invisible reflection, and in the next instant, the ground in front of him burst. Crystalline stakes shot forward in a straight line toward Zhao Ren, advancing with brutal speed, tearing through the arena stone as if it were soft earth.
Zhao Ren reacted at the limit. His body dissolved into shadows again.
A black blur swerved by centiters from the rising stakes, fragnts of ice exploding around. He reappeared to the left, then to the right, trying to find a blind angle.
But whenever he erged, even for a fragnt of a second... Kyrian was already looking. Directly at him.
Even hidden in shadow, even without emitting a clear presence, Kyrian seed to know. Every ti, he knew where Zhao Ren would co from.
Ice ford at the exact point where Zhao Ren tried to erge. A crystalline wall blocked his trajectory. Spikes rose beneath his feet. A freezing blast swept the space where he intended to attack.
In the challengers’ stands, Yun Hao deeply furrowed his brow. He knew those eyes. He had already faced Kyrian in that state. He knew what it ant.
"He’s completely reading the opponent, while the ice turns into an almost invincible defense..." he muttered to himself.
Even with his physique fully activated in his own previous fight, Yun Hao rembered the suffocating sensation. It wasn’t just ice. Kyrian also possessed perception expanded to the extre. It was like fighting soone who saw the entire field at once.
In the arena, Zhao Ren tried again. Shadows rippled across the ground as he appeared behind Kyrian, daggers crossed, aiming at the kidneys.
Kyrian did not fully turn. He only tilted his gaze.
A wall of ice rose behind him at that sa instant, blocking the attack and forcing Zhao Ren to retreat before the spikes closed over his body. The impact of the cold was imdiate.
Even with Qi active to protect himself, the constant proximity caused his energy to be drained quickly. His movents were beginning to beco less fluid.
He reappeared ten ters away, breathing more heavily.
’Too fast...’
Zhao Ren was the fastest among the ranked fighters Kyrian had faced so far. His shadow technique allowed him to cross the field like a ghost. But speed was not enough. As long as Kyrian knew his exact position, he could always act first to intercept him.
Whenever he approached, ice appeared.
Whenever he tried to press, the cold invaded his limbs.
Spikes struck him in passing. Small perforations instantly froze the flesh around them. His mobility began to decrease imperceptibly.
Kyrian, on the other hand, remained practically motionless at the center of the arena. He did not waste much Qi on long-range attacks he knew Zhao Ren would dodge.
He only reacted. Controlled the space. Turned the arena into his territory.
The ground was increasingly covered by crystalline layers. Ice fragnts reflected the sunlight, creating a scene almost beautiful and deadly.
Zhao Ren attempted one final charge.
He forced his Qi to the maximum, shadows condensing around his body like a living cloak. He disappeared completely from common perception, even his energetic presence was compressed to the limit.
The audience lost his location.
For one second...
Two...
Then he appeared above Kyrian, descending in a vertical dive, daggers pointed at the top of his skull.
Kyrian lifted his face.
The snowflakes in his pupils slowly rotated. The air around him froze in a perfect circle. Zhao Ren felt the impact before even touching the ground.
The cold struck him from all sides.
His arms locked for a fraction of a second, enough.
An explosion of ice erupted upward, striking his torso and hurling him backward violently.
He rolled across the frozen ground until he stopped near the edge of the arena. He remained on his knees. Trembling.
His Qi was still active but unstable. His arms were almost completely white now. His legs are stiff. Small crystals of ice clung to his dark garnts.
He tried to close his fists. But the pain was intense. If he continued, he knew what would happen. He could lose his limbs forever.
He raised his gaze to Kyrian.
The opponent was still at the center. Watching motionless and unhurried. Zhao Ren took one last deep breath.
The shadows around his body slowly dissipated. He returned the daggers to his spatial ring with a tired gesture.
"This is enough."
His voice echoed clear, despite the cold.
"I surrender."
User Comments
0 comments from readers