Morning sunlight spilled over the vast dueling arena, washing the scarred stone in shades of pale gold. Yet no one spoke of the dawn's beauty—only of the blood that had been shed the day before.
The stands were tense, whispers rippling through every row.
"Feng Ruo was crushed… her flames couldn't even scratch that monster Zuo Kuang.""And the prince of Crimson Jade—broken ribs, shattered pride.""Hei Mu advanced without a single effort. How terrifying must he be?"
Elders exchanged uneasy glances. The balance of the tournament had shifted; brutality had replaced competition.
At the high dais, Sect Master Lin Tianyan sat silent, eyes sharp as unsheathed steel. The previous day's violence still weighed on him, but his expression revealed nothing. Behind him, the Qingling banners fluttered proudly, refusing to bow even to the wind.
In the disciples' stands, tension pulsed thicker than qi. Su Feilí, Shui Lin, Huo Shan, and the others stood quietly, their gazes fixed on the empty ground below. Feng Ruo still lay recovering in the infirmary, her defeat a reminder of the stakes that now defined this "friendly tournament."
"They're playing with lives now," Shui Lin muttered, fists clenched."Let them," Su Feilí replied softly. "They'll soon learn Qingling doesn't break easily."
But even her calm voice couldn't still the unease that haunted them.
The Elders' Assembly
The presiding elders gathered once again at the center platform, their robes glowing faintly under the sun. One elder stepped forward, voice amplified by a simple sound array.
"By order of the sect masters, today begins the decisive round of the qualifiers! The next duel shall be between—"
He paused for dramatic effect, letting spiritual energy ripple across the entire arena.
"—Ling Xuanye of Qingling Sect and Yue Chányīn of Qingling Sect!"
The crowd erupted in astonishment.
"Two from the same sect?""The Young Master himself—dueling his own comrade?""Qingling is tearing itself apart!"
The announcement echoed, and for a heartbeat, even the heavens seemed to still.
The Calm Before the Storm
Xuanye rose slowly from his seat beside Sect Master Lin. His robe, a weave of black and navy embroidered with golden threads, shimmered with restrained lightning beneath the fabric. He inclined his head respectfully to his father.
"Go," Lin Tianyan said simply. "Show them what Qingling truly is."
Xuanye nodded and leapt from the high dais, landing gracefully upon the dueling platform as a breeze of qi rippled outward.
Across the arena, Yue Chányīn stepped forward. Dressed in pale blue robes that shimmered like frost under morning light, her long hair trailed behind her like threads of moonlight. The air around her grew colder with every step she took; even the mist in the air crystallized into drifting snowflakes.
The moment they both stood facing each other, cheers erupted.
"Young Master Xuanye!""Yue Chányīn, Ice Fairy of Qingling!"
It was not rivalry—it was reverence. Two prodigies of the same bloodline of glory.
But among their companions, silence reigned.
Su Feilí folded her hands together, lips tightening. "They'll fight fair," she whispered, though her eyes betrayed her worry.Huo Shan crossed his arms. "Fair or not, this'll be one hell of a fight."Shui Lin nodded grimly. "Just don't let it end with another broken spine."
A Duel Between Ice and Lightning
The referee descended into the center, bowing to both.
"The duel between Qingling's own shall proceed under standard rules. No killing intent, no forbidden strikes. Fight with honor."
Xuanye smiled faintly. "Understood."
Yue Chányīn gave a single nod.
For a brief moment, they simply stared at each other—the golden glow of his aura meeting the silver frost of hers.
"We'll fight fair," Xuanye said quietly. "No holding back. Try your best.""That was already my plan," she replied, her tone as cold as her qi.
Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, Xuanye leaned slightly closer.
"By the way, have you thought about that gift they mentioned last night?"
Yue Chányīn's expression froze, and a faint flush colored her pale cheeks.
"You—" she hissed, voice low as snow-crackle.Then she exhaled sharply, her cold aura bursting around her like a sigh."Hao (好)… Let's see, Xuanye. But if I win…"
Her eyes narrowed, a faint, dangerous smirk curving her lips.
"You'll do whatever I say. No matter what."
Xuanye tilted his head, amused. "Deal."
Their gazes locked—ice against storm, will against will. The arena seemed to hum with expectation.
The referee raised his hand high, signaling for silence.
"Contestants—prepare yourselves!"
A gust of wind swept through the arena, scattering frost and dust alike.
From the stands, Su Feilí whispered softly, "Don't hold back… either of you."
The sound array boomed.
"Begin!"
Both cultivators stepped forward in perfect unison—no weapons drawn yet, no powers flaring, just two prodigies of Qingling Sect facing each other beneath a thousand watching eyes.
The air between them shimmered with tension, and the very ground trembled in anticipation of what was to come.