"Alright, that's enough. Settle down now."
After the three of them fooled around for a while, Flender called them back to order.
"What's this? You all think you fought brilliantly, is that it?" The moment Flender opened his mouth, the three went silent.
"Especially you, Dai Mubai. You think you won easily this time?"
Flender fixed Dai Mubai with a stare, making him squirm uncomfortably before he finally continued:
"Cat got your tongue? You know your victory was hanging by a thread, don't you? If that spirit master named Gunfire's second spirit skill hadn't happened to be countered by your first spirit skill, would you really have won?"
"But his spirit still restrained mine…" Dai Mubai muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. Yet Flender's spirit was the Owl—enhanced hearing was second nature to him.
"Restrained? To what extent? Were you unable to attack? Were you unable to defend? If you had just taken a few blows at the start, or immediately activated your White Tiger Barrier and pressed the attack, could he have withstood it? Didn't I already teach you this: Tool Martial Spirits in the early stages don't give their masters as much overall enhancement as Beast Martial Spirits."
He jabbed a finger at Dai Mubai.
"And that Flame Gun Spirit—its power lies in its terrifying heat. But Gunfire's spirit power rank is still low. As long as the heat of that gun is within your tolerance and you can endure a few strikes, its strength turns into its weakness. Aside from its natural high temperature, the Flame Gun Spirit gives little boost to its wielder in other aspects. You could've taken him down outright. Hesitation is the same as failure!"
Dai Mubai lowered his head, robbed even of the courage to argue.
At last, Flender shifted his sharp gaze toward Qian Jue.
"And you. Do you understand the saying, 'The longer the night, the more dreams come'? If a fight can be finished early, why drag it out? When that barrage of feather arrows rained down, why didn't you just dodge outright? Standing there in the middle, showing off—what if your calculations had been off?"
Qian Jue rolled his eyes downward. He felt Flender was just nitpicking. If he had absolute confidence, what was wrong with ending it later? And even if his calculation had slipped, he could've blocked the arrows with the Kindred's bow. But he dared not talk back. Flender was the type to quietly hold a grudge; who knew what sort of trick he might play if his pride was challenged.
And indeed, Qian Jue had guessed right—Flender truly was nitpicking. In truth, he was quite satisfied with both of their performances: Dai Mubai's steadiness and Qian Jue's ease in combat had both impressed him. Yet he had to pour cold water over them. If they went into future matches puffed up with pride and arrogance, disaster would only be a matter of time.
---
After scolding the two thoroughly, Flender took them to register the points they had earned from their one-on-one matches. Then he led them to the registration counter for the two-on-two matches.
"Please present your Spirit Arena badges and pay the registration fee of ten gold coins. If you win, the fee will be refunded, along with an additional prize of ten gold coins."
The staffer processed their registration with a mechanical tone, reciting the rules without expression.
They handed over their Iron Spirit Arena badges, and Dai Mubai paid the ten gold coin fee. The two registered under the team name
After waiting for a short while, they received their match slot for the night: Match No. 23 on Arena Eight.
Separating once again from Flender and Oscar, the two hurried toward Arena Eight. Passing through the rest area, they reached the competitors' stand, only to find that Match No. 17 had just begun.
Two-on-two matches were far slower than one-on-ones. By now only the seventeenth bout was underway, leaving six full matches before Qian Jue and Dai Mubai's turn.
"Didn't expect team battles to drag on this much. I thought we'd barely make it in time." Dai Mubai muttered, listening to the announcer's booming introduction.
"Of course they're slower," Qian Jue replied calmly. "In a solo fight, one slip is enough for the opponent to finish you off. In a duo, you've got a partner who can cover your mistakes. And in terms of spirits, pairings aren't as easily restrained as one-on-ones."
As Qian Jue analyzed, the two teams on stage had already finished introductions and were now releasing their spirits. One team consisted of a Steel-Armored Scorpion and a Blackstar Mantis; the other, an Ice-Ring Blade and a Staff. It was Beast Spirits versus Tool Spirits.
The Steel-Armored Scorpion belonged to a stout, short man named Shan Mao, standing barely 1.6 meters but built solid. Qian Jue recognized the spirit type. Unlike the Obsidian Venom Scorpion from which his Wolf Spirit had absorbed a skill, the Steel-Armored Scorpion was a different species altogether—roughly sheep-sized, lacking venom, but as its name suggested, specialized in defense. Clearly, Shan Mao himself was the same.
The other three spirits were all offensive by nature. That meant the match-up was a defense-and-attack duo against a pure offense pair. With all four competitors at roughly level 36–37, each bearing three yellow rings, the stage was set for an even clash. The audience's cheers boomed louder than when Qian Jue himself had fought earlier.
The starting bell rang, and both pairs charged forward at once.
The Ice-Ring Blade Spirit shone with a pale blue glow: a circular weapon with three windmill-like blades spinning at the front and four spines curving backward at the handle. It could both attack and defend. Its wielder was a woman named Zhu Bing, about twenty years of age, who now faced Shan Mao.
Shan Mao's Scorpion Possession spread plates of dark armor across his body, especially covering his arms. When he clashed with Zhu Bing, he reached straight out to grab her Ice-Ring Blade barehanded. Sparks showered from the impact of armored flesh against spinning blades.
Normally, that should've been impossible—the Ice-Ring Blade was no ordinary tool spirit. Yet Shan Mao had chosen both of his first two spirit rings from defensive beasts, granting him purely passive enhancements. The result: this brazen effect of grasping an opponent's weapon spirit without injury.
But Zhu Bing did not panic, nor did she waste strength struggling. As a woman and a tool spirit master, her raw power was naturally less. Instead, she triggered her second spirit skill—Snowfall Flurry.
Billows of frost surged from her Ice-Ring Blade, engulfing Shan Mao. His armored hand instantly iced over, frost creeping up his arm toward his torso.
Startled, he released his grip and stumbled backward, hoping to retreat out of range. He clearly realized he had underestimated her.
But escape was no easy matter. Zhu Bing let out a cold snort and pressed forward. Shan Mao was a defensive type; his speed couldn't match hers. Now slowed by her icy aura, he was practically a sitting target. This was the perfect chance to "beat the drowning dog," as the saying went—and she had no intention of sparing him.
Shan Mao staggered back two steps, feeling his limbs stiffen under the encroaching cold. His gaze darted toward his teammate and the enemy staff-user. They were too far; there'd be no quick help.
Gritting his teeth, he blocked a few more strikes, then roared, unleashing his third skill:
"Vajra!"
Golden light swept across his armored body, rooting him like a statue.
In the stands, Flender rolled his eyes.
Shan Mao's teammate, the Blackstar Mantis user, heard his cry and rushed to assist, brandishing the mantis' sharp arm-blades to force space open. But the staff spirit master was no idle opponent. He'd been watching closely, and seeing his teammate already dominating, he cut off the reinforcements without hesitation.
"Staff Shadows Multiply!"
His second spirit ring flared, and dozens of phantom strikes rained down. The mantis wielder, battered, was forced to defend, dragged into a duel of attrition.
The momentum shifted decisively toward Zhu Bing.
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