Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes into half an hour. By now, close to an hour had passed, yet neither Zhou Xiaosi nor Liang Mang had spoken or moved.
Zhou Xiaosi stood with his hands clasped behind his back, posture relaxed but aura faintly coiled. Liang Mang faced him, his spine straight as an iron spear, wrinkles etched deep into his weathered face. Their gazes locked, unblinking, as though neither man could afford to look away. Occasionally, a smirk tugged at one corner of their lips, but nothing more.
Outside the pocket world. The mortals among the crowd grew restless. Their voices rose one after another, impatient.
"Fight already!"
"Are they just going to stare all day?"
"An hour has passed, what's the meaning of this?"
Their shouts rose, echoing through the arena. To mortals, patience was a thin thread.
But cultivators were different. Most remained calm, watching silently, their gazes steady. Only a small portion began to frown and murmur softly, but none dared speak loudly. They understood something the mortals did not, true battles between powers at this level could erupt at any instant, and when they did, the devastation would be immense.
Then, without warning, the silence shattered.
A thunderous boom ripped across the pocket world. The ground quaked violently. When the dust cleared, a crater of a hundred kilometers wide yawned upon the earth. Mortals gasped, some screaming in fear, but the higher cultivators had already seen what had truly happened.
They were hovering a few feet above the crater.
Just before the boom, both Zhou Xiaosi and Liang Mang had a sinister smile that contained neither warmth nor joy. Then in less than a sliver of second, their auras erupted, colliding in a flare of power as each punched toward the other. That single exchange carved out the massive crater.
And in the instant after, both vanished.
To the eyes of anyone below the Quasi-Elysian stage, the two were gone. To Quasi-Elysian cultivators and above, however, their movements were completely visible, attacks already exchanged, spells unleashed, all within the span of a heartbeat.
"—Heavenly Vortex!"
Liang Mang's voice boomed, calm yet thunderous.
On his palm, golden light swirled. Slowly at first, then faster and faster, a vortex began to spin into existence. The vortex from the size of a fist became the size of a bowl, then a cart, then larger still. Its edges distorted the space around it.
It rose skyward, and as it did, light itself seemed to spiral around it. Rays of sunlight bent unnaturally, drawn into the growing whirlpool of radiance. The more it consumed, the brighter its radiance.
Zhou Xiaosi's gaze remained steady, though his eyes flickered with faint amusement.
Liang Mang's hand pressed upward. The vortex, now vast, ascended until it floated a thousand feet in the air. It spun rapidly, forming a perfect golden circle. Its brightness was so bright to the mortal eye, to them it seemed like a miniature sun. To cultivators, it was a simple gravity and light based technique, common for the disciples of Sun-Forging sect.
Then it struck.
Chii—chii—chii! Countless beams of light shot downward in a rain of destruction. Each was no wider than a finger, yet their speed rivaled the speed of light and their heat rivaled magma. Trees, earth, stones—everything caught within a hundred-meter radius was incinerated instantly.
To mortals, it looked as though fire simply appeared out of nowhere. To Nirvana cultivators, it was still the same as mortals. Only those at the Quasi-Elysian level and higher could truly see the beams as they rained down.
But Zhou Xiaosi was still faster.
His body blurred, leaving afterimages in all directions. He moved twice as quickly as the beams themselves, arriving at different points before the light reached there, as though mocking the attack's speed. His expression was calm, almost lazy, his movements as effortless as breathing.
Liang Mang's gaze betrayed neither anger nor frustration. He merely lifted his hand and, with a single word, recalled the vortex. It dissipated, fading back into the sky.
For a brief pause, the two men regarded one another again, their smirks unchanged.
Then Liang Mang's sleeve flickered. With a sound of thunder, a long spear appeared in his hand. Its shaft was pitch-black, its blade glowing faintly with a blood-red aura. A demonic treasure, sinister and heavy, as though drenched in the screams of countless souls.
Zhou Xiaosi's lips curved upward.
"Let us see," he said lightly, "if your old bones still have strength left. Don't worry. I won't use my full power."
Liang Mang's eyes glinted, confidence flashing within their depths. He raised the spear, pointing its tip toward Zhou Xiaosi.
"Then I thank Senior Zhou for his mercy. But forgive me… junior will not be holding back."
Outside, the crowd erupted. Gasps, cheers, and shouts filled the air. Mortals trembled with excitement, while cultivators leaned forward, eyes fixed on the screen.
Yet not all were fooled.
The elders of each sect in the elders chamber already figured out that this was no real fight, but a planned show.
Shen Yuan, arms folded, watched silently. His eyes narrowed.
'A show, he thought. This fight is nothing but a show.'
He analyzed every movement, every flare of Qi. There were truths hidden beneath the spectacle, but he knew most would never see them.
Liang Mang struck first.
In an instant, he appeared a hundred feet before Zhou Xiaosi. The spear shot forward with blinding speed, piercing space itself. Zhou Xiaosi shifted slightly, dodging with elegance, the spear grazing past. With a thought, Liang Mang recalled it, the weapon returning to his hand.
His fingers formed a seal. The surrounding sunlight trembled. A river of light condensed before him, vast and shimmering. Slowly, it twisted and coiled, scales forming, claws stretching.
A dragon of pure light, made from condensing the surrounding sunlight, two hundred feet long, unfurled into existence.
It coiled around Liang Mang, radiating blinding brilliance, as if it alone could illuminate the entire sky. His voice rang out.
"Senior Zhou, this is my Brilliant Dragon technique. You shall be the first to witness it."
Zhou Xiaosi's smirk deepened. His thoughts whispered coldly. 'The old man does know how to act.'
He lifted his hand. Dark-gold qi flared from his body, roiling like a storm. It condensed behind him, forming a colossal skull. The skull's eye sockets blazed with lightless fire, and from its jaw exhaled a mist of pure decay.
The dragon roared. The skull exhaled.
They collided.
The impact birthed a shockwave that shook the sky and earth. A deafening explosion resounded.
Sensing the impending destruction, the teammates of both men immediately tore open spatial rifts, retreating into the folds of space itself.
The shockwave expanded outward in every direction.
For eight thousand kilometers, mountains crumbled, rivers evaporated, forests disintegrated. Everything within range was reduced to fine powder. The land became a barren plain, flattened into an almost a kilometer deep crater.
Outside the pocket world, gasps echoed. Mortals and even Nirvana cultivators stared in disbelief. The crater this time was far greater than the one before!
'So this is the might of the Elysian stage…'
However, what made mortals even more shocked was that the explosion didn't even scratch the two. Liang Mang's hand rose again. The sunlight bent once more, this time forming a thousand illusory blades of light. Each blade was about thirty inches, humming with energy. They circled him like a storm, then shot forth in a single wave toward Zhou Xiaosi.
Zhou Xiaosi cackled, his laughter sharp and mocking.
"Youthful tricks!"
His sleeve flickered. Dark-gold qi surged outward, rising like a tidal wave. It swallowed the blades, dissolving them into a haze of entropy.
To many watching, it seemed a desperate defense. But those with keener eyes—Shen Yuan among them—noticed something strange. Zhou Xiaosi was not drawing upon his spiritual energy, even though true Elysian cultivators used that as their energy source. Instead, he was using the spare Qi hidden in his storage bag.
Shen Yuan's confidence grew. 'A show indeed.'
However it was not just Shen Yuan who had realized it, but also those with a keen sense of analyzing everything, like the elders in the elders chamber, the sect leaders, world lord's envoy and world lord himself. All being cunning foxes.
With their divine sense, Zhou Xiaosi's voice brushed Liang Mang's mind.
"Don't overdo it. Save your strength. You aren't a true Elysian cultivator, you will need to save your energy to fight Shen Yuan."
Liang Mang replied calmly, a smirk hidden beneath his composed exterior.
"I remember. But a performance without an ending is no performance at all."
Zhou Xiaosi gave a faint snort of agreement.
The fight escalated. Liang Mang unleashed bursts of spatial power, tearing rifts through the surroundings. Zhou Xiaosi countered with a massive illusory bell, which absorbed the attack before shrinking into his palm, disappearing into his storage bag once more.
Among the elders outside, murmurs spread.
The Fengyue elder raised his voice, his tone proud.
"Regardless of theatrics, our prince is superior."
The other elders glared, but none could refute. It was, after all, the truth.
Inside, the battle surged toward its climax.
Liang Mang's aura flared, and he roared, "Mid-tier Earth-grade Technique—Eternal Night Vortex!"
Above him, light and shadow twisted together. Stones and trees were dragged upward, sucked into the forming maelstrom. Slowly, it condensed into a massive black vortex, spiraling bands of light wrapped around its edges. Its gravitational pull distorting space itself.
The sky seemed ready to collapse.
Zhou Xiaosi's eyes sparkled. 'The old man truly knows how to make it grand.'
His aura surged as well. "Mid-tier Earth-grade Technique—Fallen Tomb!"
From his storage bag, black qi flooded outward. Wherever it spread, trees withered instantly, soil decayed to dust. The energy condensed into the form of a colossal tortoise. On its back stood a gravestone larger than a mountain, exuding the aura of ancient death.
The vortex howled. The tomb loomed.
Both techniques seemed to howl with power, threatening to tear apart the land itself.