The courtyard shimmered with heat and tension.
Hundreds of disciples had gathered in silent awe, forming a ring around the two cultivators at its center. Lin Xun stood tall, black robe fluttering in the wind, while Yu Wushuang faced him with arms folded, her silver-white hair catching the sun like liquid starlight.
The sky overhead was painted scarlet by dusk, as if the heavens themselves leaned in to watch.
> "This isn't a personal grudge," Wushuang said calmly. "This is fate testing your spirit."
> "Or yours," Lin Xun countered, eyes glowing faintly—one ember-red, the other frost-blue.
The sect elders stood at the edges, eyes stern, but none dared interfere. Even they understood—some duels were more than mere challenges. They were rites of destiny.
The bell rang.
And the world exploded.
---
Wushuang's first move was divine.
A storm of phoenix-shaped fire surged forward, each blaze wrapped in ancestral qi. Her steps left behind lotus flames that hung midair, burning illusions of her form spinning around Lin Xun like petals.
Lin Xun reacted instantly.
He pressed his palm to the ground—Frozen Blaze Manifestation.
A ring of blue flame burst forth, countering the illusionary petals with icy fire. The clash of cold and heat warped the air.
> "Not bad," Wushuang murmured, dancing through the clash with graceful strikes. "You've inherited the essence. But your control is still raw."
Lin Xun didn't respond with words.
He struck back.
Blazing Storm Palm!
His right hand ignited with chaotic flame, his left glowing with frost. When the palm landed, the energy twisted into a spiral that melted Wushuang's incoming fire barrage and cracked the dueling platform beneath them.
She skidded back slightly, eyes flashing.
Then she smiled.
> "Good. Now try this."
She drew a long crimson blade from her back—Phoenix Bone Saber—an artifact carved from the remains of a divine beast slain centuries ago.
With a single arc, she split the sky.
A crimson flame wave surged forth, coiling like a phoenix in flight.
Lin Xun roared, energy spiking.
He summoned his dual-core technique: Inferno Frost Reversal.
The wave hit his shield of frostfire and exploded, sending out shockwaves that knocked nearby disciples off their feet.
Dust filled the arena.
When it cleared, both fighters were panting, but neither had fallen.
> "You've improved since the start of this fight," Wushuang said, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Your instincts are wild… but sharp."
> "And you're holding back," Lin Xun replied, voice steady. "You could've aimed to kill."
> "I didn't come to kill you, Lin Xun."
She stepped forward, blade fading back into its sheath.
> "I came to see if you're worthy of the secret buried in your bloodline."
Lin Xun blinked.
> "What do you know of my bloodline?"
Wushuang's expression turned serious.
> "You think you're the only one seeking the truth? The Flame-Eating Sect isn't just after you—they want the Frozen Infernal Core said to exist only once every ten generations. Your father had it. And from the duel… I think you inherited it too."
A cold silence followed.
Then she added softly, "I'm not your enemy, Lin Xun. But I can't protect you either. The Phoenix Council has already marked you."
She turned away.
> "Prepare. There's more coming than you know."
And like that, she vanished into a swirl of flame, leaving only scorched ground and stunned silence.
---
Later that night, Lin Xun stood at the cliff's edge behind the Skyrect Sect's main hall, watching the stars shift in the dark sky.
The duel still echoed in his bones.
Not just the battle—but the truths hidden in her words.
> Frozen Infernal Core… marked by fate… enemies in shadows and allies that vanish like smoke.
His hand touched the ring once more.
It pulsed gently.
> "You sent her, didn't you, Mother?"
From the silence, the ring shimmered.
A vision appeared—Wushuang and his father, standing beside one another, younger, unaware of the fates that would divide them.
> "What is our connection?" he asked the night. "What part do I play in all this?"
A voice responded—not from the ring, but from behind him.
> "You play the part of a storm that does not know it is one."
Lin Xun spun.
A man cloaked in gray stood near the trees, half his face hidden behind a mask of black jade. His presence was like oil on water—slippery, dark, impossible to grasp.
> "Who are you?"
> "An old ally of your father," the masked man said. "And perhaps, your only warning before the slaughter begins."
> "Slaughter?"
The man tossed Lin Xun a scroll. On it were names—disciples of Skyrect Sect, elders, traitors.
> "The Flame-Eating Sect has already infiltrated your sect. And on the night of the next eclipse… they will strike."
> "How do I trust you?" Lin Xun growled.
The man began to fade.
> "You don't. You prepare."
And then he was gone.
---
That night, Lin Xun did not sleep.
He
stared at the scroll, memorizing every name, every symbol.
For tomorrow, he would begin hunting.
Not just beasts.
Not just rivals.
But the darkness that dared to call itself family.