The inferno raged, a sea of crimson flame engulfing the center of the arena.
All eyes fixed on the blaze.
Sun Yaoqing's chest rose and fell, her slender fingers trembling on the bowstring.
Sweat beaded along her brow.
"Phew!"
It was her first time having to rely on her trick rather than her overwhelming power.
She swallowed, her heart pounding.
(It hit… it must have hit.)
But then—
A soft sound echoed from within the inferno.
Step! Step!
Slow and casual footsteps.
The raging flames parted like curtains before an unseen will.
From within their depths, a silhouette emerged—straight-backed, leisurely, unhurried.
The hall fell utterly silent.
Bai Zihan walked forward with little injury save for some faint burn marks.
His body, tempered through refinement beyond mortal comprehension, was nearly immune to fire.
Yet Sun Yaoqing's flames, though ultimately unable to truly harm him, had carried a heat unlike any he had faced before.
