The waiting room smelled like ozone and grease.
Han Yu was on his knees, welding a new armor plate onto Gu Ling's wheelchair. Sparks flew everywhere. Little Que was busy braiding a protective charm into Gu Ling's silver hair, chatting a mile a minute about "aerodynamics."
Jiang Fan sat on a bench nearby, eating a bag of spicy dried fish. He looked calm, but his eyes were narrowed slightly.
"You're eating again," Gu Ling said, not looking up from the diagnostic screen of her chair. "Nervous?"
"Bored," Jiang Fan corrected. He tossed a piece of fish into his mouth. "They're taking too long to announce the Semi-Finals. Usually, the bracket is automatic. This delay means someone upstairs is arguing."
Gu Ling paused. She tapped her armrest. "You think the Elders are interfering?"
"I don't think. I know." Jiang Fan dusted off his hands. "We embarrassed the Viper Squad. We embarrassed the Twin Tigers. We made the Outer Sect look stronger than the Inner Sect elites. Old people hate it when young people break the status quo. It ruins their Feng Shui."
Gu Ling frowned. She looked at her legs, then at the massive spiked wheels Han Yu had installed. "Let them interfere. My Frost Cannon is fully charged. If they cheat, I'll freeze the referee."
Jiang Fan smiled. "That's the spirit."
Suddenly, the heavy iron doors of the waiting room slammed open.
The room went silent. Han Yu dropped his welding torch.
Standing in the doorway wasn't a referee. It was Elder Mo, the Head of the Discipline Hall. He was a tall, skeletal man with a long goatee and eyes that looked like they judged your soul and found it wanting.
Behind him walked a young man in white robes.
The young man was handsome, clean, and radiated an aura so sharp it felt like a knife pressing against your skin. He didn't look at Jiang Fan or Gu Ling. He looked at the ceiling, as if the air down here was too dirty for him to breathe.
"Jiang Fan," Elder Mo said, his voice dry as old parchment. "Gu Ling."
"Elder," Gu Ling nodded respectfully, though her hands tightened on her chair.
"There has been a change in the tournament structure," Elder Mo announced. " Due to the... unusual nature of your team composition, the Sect Master has decided that the Semi-Finals will be a test of individual capability."
Gu Ling's face went pale. "Individual?"
"Correct. No supports. No duo teams. One on one."
Elder Mo smirked cruelly.
"Jiang Fan, your opponent has been selected. You will face Li Murong."
A gasp ran through the room. Even Han Yu looked terrified.
"Li Murong?" Little Que whispered, hiding behind Han Yu. "The 'Swift Sword'? But... he's already an Inner Disciple! He's ranked number 3 in the Sword Hall! Why is he in the Outer Tournament?"
"He volunteered," Elder Mo said smoothly. "To demonstrate the gap between true genius and... lucky trash."
Li Murong finally looked down. He locked eyes with Jiang Fan.
"You made a mess of my arena," Li Murong said softy. "Rolling around in the mud. Using toys and tricks. It's disgusting."
He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"I will end you in three moves. If you surrender now, I will allow you to keep your arms."
The threat hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. This wasn't a competition anymore. It was a hit job.
Gu Ling rolled her chair forward, her eyes blazing with blue light.
"This is ridiculous! Jiang Fan is Stage 4! Li Murong is Stage 5 Peak! Putting them in a cage match is attempted murder!"
"The bracket is set," Elder Mo turned his back. "Enter the arena in five minutes. Or be expelled for cowardice."
They walked out, leaving a heavy silence behind them.
Gu Ling spun around to face Jiang Fan. She was shaking—not with fear, but with rage.
"You can't do this," she said, grabbing his sleeve. "Li Murong is a speed specialist. He's the natural counter to my ice. Without me to slow him down, he'll cut you to ribbons before you can even bring out your fan."
She looked desperate. "Forfeit, Jiang Fan. Please. I can't... I don't want to watch you get crippled."
Jiang Fan looked at her hand on his sleeve. He looked at the genuine worry in her eyes.
He smiled, a real, gentle smile. He reached out and patted her head, messing up the braid Little Que had just made.
"Hey. Relax."
"Relax?! He's Stage 5 Peak!"
"Yeah," Jiang Fan yawned, stretching his arms. "Which means he worked really hard to get there. Probably trains ten hours a day. Runs laps. Eats raw eggs."
Jiang Fan's expression shifted. The laziness vanished, replaced by a cold, metallic calm.
"I slept for ten hours last night, Gu Ling. Do you know what that means?"
Gu Ling blinked, confused. "What?"
"It means I'm well-rested."
He turned and walked toward the tunnel.
"Watch the match, Senior Sister. And keep a warm towel ready. I might sweat a little."
THE ARENA
The crowd was screaming. Word had spread that Li Murong was fighting. The "Swift Sword" had a fan club, and they were chanting his name.
"LI-MU-RONG! LI-MU-RONG!"
In the center of the ring, Li Murong stood like a statue. He held a long, thin rapier. His Qi flared around him—sharp, white, and aggressive.
Jiang Fan walked out. He looked small compared to the pressure Li Murong was releasing. He didn't have his fan out. He just stood there, hands in his pockets.
[ SYSTEM ALERT ][ Emergency Quest: The Wall of Talent ][ Opponent: Li Murong (Stage 5 Peak - Wind/Sword) ][ Danger Level: HIGH ][ Objective: Survive 3 minutes OR Defeat Opponent. ][ Reward: "Skill Upgrade Token" ]
"Three minutes?" Jiang Fan muttered. "System, you have little faith in me."
The referee raised his hand.
"BEGIN!"
BOOM.
Li Murong didn't run. He vanished.
It was pure speed. The ground where he stood cracked, and he became a white blur.
"First Move: Flash Step!"
He appeared instantly behind Jiang Fan, his sword thrusting toward Jiang Fan's spine.
The crowd gasped. It was too fast. No Outer Disciple could react to that.
CLANG.
The sound of metal hitting metal rang out.
Li Murong's eyes widened.
His sword hadn't hit flesh. It had hit... a pillow?
No.
Jiang Fan had spun around. In his hand, he held a black iron pillow (something he apparently bought from the shop). He had used it to block the sword tip perfectly.
"You're fast," Jiang Fan said, looking unimpressed. "But you breathe too loud."
"Luck!" Li Murong snarled. He retracted his sword and unleashed a flurry of strikes.
STRIKE-STRIKE-STRIKE.
Dozens of sword shadows rained down on Jiang Fan.
Jiang Fan didn't attack. He just moved.
[ Skill: Sleepwalker Step (Active) ]
He swayed like a leaf in a hurricane. He tilted his head left, and a blade cut a strand of his hair. He twisted his waist right, and a sword grazed his robe. He took a half-step back, and the tip of the blade missed his nose by a millimeter.
To the audience, it looked like a choreographed dance. Li Murong was sweating, his face twisted in frustration, slashing wildly. Jiang Fan looked like he was barely paying attention.
"Stand still!" Li Murong screamed. "Why won't you let me hit you?!"
"Because that looks sharp," Jiang Fan replied reasonably.
"Second Move: Gale Slash!"
Li Murong jumped back. He gathered massive amounts of Qi into his blade. The wind in the arena began to swirl, creating a mini-tornado.
"If I can't hit you, I'll hit the entire area!"
He swung. A massive crescent of wind-blades tore through the arena floor, ripping up the stones, heading straight for Jiang Fan.
There was nowhere to dodge. The attack covered the whole ring.
In the stands, Gu Ling looked down, screaming. "Use the barrier!"
Jiang Fan sighed. He looked at the incoming wall of death.
"Fine. Effort time."
He dropped the iron pillow.
He reached into his inventory and pulled out the Gale-Shadow Fan.
He didn't open it gently this time. He snapped it open with a violent crack.
[ System: Qi Injection 100% ][ Attribute: Lazy Counter ]
"You call that wind?" Jiang Fan asked.
He swung the fan.
He didn't use a fancy technique name. He just swung it hard.
A blast of compressed air, visible to the naked eye, shot out of the fan. It slammed into Li Murong's wind-blade.
CRASH.
The two attacks collided in the center of the arena.
For a second, they held.
Then, Jiang Fan's attack simply... ate the other one.
The sheer density of Jiang Fan's Qi—purified by hundreds of hours of system-assisted sleep—was heavier than Li Murong's. Jiang Fan's wind blast shattered the sword attack and kept going.
"What?!" Li Murong shrieked.
The blast hit him.
It lifted him off his feet like a ragdoll. He flew backward, tumbling through the air, his white robes shredding in the wind.
He smashed into the arena wall, creating a spiderweb of cracks in the stone. He slid down, coughing blood, his sword falling from his hand.
The arena went dead silent.
Jiang Fan stood in the center, fanning himself gently. He looked up at the VIP box where Elder Mo was sitting.
He pointed the fan at the Elder.
"Is that three moves yet?" Jiang Fan asked loudly. "Or should I wake him up and try again?"
The Aftermath
The medic team rushed onto the field to scrape Li Murong off the wall.
Jiang Fan walked back to the tunnel. He felt... tired. Using that much Qi actually drained his stamina bar a little.
As soon as he entered the shade of the tunnel, a blur of indigo and silver slammed into him.
Gu Ling had rolled her chair at max speed. She grabbed the front of his robes, her eyes wide and shining.
"You! You idiot! You reckless idiot!"
"I won, didn't I?" Jiang Fan laughed weakly.
"You blocked a Gale Slash with raw Qi! Do you know how dangerous that is? If your foundation wasn't perfect, your meridians would have exploded!"
She was yelling, but her hands were shaking as she checked him for injuries.
"I'm fine, Gu Ling. Really."
He looked at her.
"But I think I pulled a muscle in my shoulder. I might need that massage gun later."
Gu Ling stared at him. Then, she let out a breathy, relieved laugh. She released his robes and smoothed them out.
"Fine. One session. But you're paying for the electricity."
Han Yu and Little Que were dancing in the background.
"Did you see his face?!" Little Que cheered. "Splat! Like a bug on a windshield!"
Jiang Fan smiled. He checked his system.
[ Quest Complete. ][ Reward: Skill Upgrade Token. ][ Current Status: Semi-Finalist. ]
"Okay team," Jiang Fan said, walking toward the exit. "Let's go get some food. I have a feeling the Finals are going to be even more annoying."