The moment the Crow and the Owl appeared, something shifted in the Great Tower.
Not in the stone.
Not in the air.
Not even in the cultivators who watched.
It was deeper than that.
A silent truth settled over the arena—
The Hunt had begun.
And once the Hunters moved,
nothing and no one standing in their way would be forgiven.
Shàng Guān Zhě stepped from the balcony as if stepping off a quiet cliff.
And gravity, wisely, refused to pull her down.
Her movements were soft, graceful—almost delicate.
Like drifting snow.
Yet the pressure she carried slammed into the arena like a falling star, sending weaker disciples dropping to their knees, clutching their chests in terror.
Zhao Ming froze.
His breath cut short.
She's coming for me.
The Owl From The Tree floated downward, head tilted, bloodlust radiating gently, almost affectionately.
"Found you," she whispered.
While the Owl descended with quiet cruelty, the Crow didn't drift.
She fell.
Straight down.
Black feathers erupted outward, slicing the air like knives. The arena lights dimmed as if shadows themselves bowed before her presence.
Her target was not Zhao Ming.
She dropped directly toward:
Zhao Yuan.
And—
Pin Sujin.
Pin Sujin rose from his seat in an instant, teeth clenched, eyes burning with grim acceptance.
"Tch… I hoped she'd ignore me."
Zhao Ming turned sharply toward him.
"You can't fight her."
Pin Sujin cracked his knuckles.
"Boy, I can't fight her—
but I sure as hell can slow her down."
Lin Xue, mid-strike, felt the oppressive aura descend like an ice-cold blade pressed against her spine. Her flames flickered, reacting instinctively to danger.
Zhao Yuan sensed it too—his face drained of color.
"What… what is that?!"
No one could answer him.
No one even had time to try.
The Owl landed at the edge of the arena, the stone beneath her feet dissolving into dust under the pressure of her qi.
She raised her hand toward Zhao Ming, fingers extended like talons.
"Don't run."
Zhao Ming didn't move.
Couldn't move.
And then—
The Crow struck.
She hit the center of the arena with such force that the ground fractured outward in a perfect circle. Dust and flame lifted in a shockwave that rattled the upper balconies.
Zhao Yuan flew backward, smashing against the arena wall, coughing blood.
Pin Sujin leapt down from the stands, meeting the Crow head-on with a palm strike heavy enough to collapse boulders.
She stopped it with a single finger.
A single.
Cold.
Finger.
Pin Sujin's face contorted in pain as blood poured down his arm.
"So weak," the Crow murmured.
"This generation disappoints me."
The Tower's elite guards, normally forbidden from interfering in matches, were forced by instinct and training to respond.
They leapt forward—
Only to be knocked out of the air by a single flap of the Owl's feathers, sent crashing into the walls like paper dolls.
The Crow didn't even acknowledge them.
They were beneath her notice.
The spectators screamed, chaos erupting, people scrambling toward the exits—
but the doors refused to open.
The Tower had sealed itself in response to the overwhelming killing intent inside.
No one was leaving.
Flames rose around her like a corona, her instincts screaming.
The Crow turned her head slightly toward Lin Xue, red eyes gleaming beneath the mask.
"You burn brightly," she said.
"Perhaps you will rise high."
Lin Xue tightened her fists.
"And what are you?"
The Crow smiled beneath the mask, though it was not kind.
"One who shadows the strong."
She pointed a finger at Zhao Yuan.
"He is prey."
She pointed a finger at Pin Sujin.
"So is he."
She didn't point at Lin Xue.
That alone was an insult.
Zhao Ming stepped back.
Only one step.
But that was enough.
The Owl's eyes widened behind her mask, almost delighted.
"Oh… you're resisting?"
She blurred.
Her figure flickered left, right, then suddenly—
Behind him.
Her hand wrapped lightly around his throat.
"Don't struggle," she whispered softly.
"You'll only die tired."
Zhao Ming's eyes widened in panic.
Before she could tighten her grip—
A shockwave erupted between them.
Lin Xue stood on the arena's edge, flames swirling violently.
"You will not touch him."
The Owl tilted her head.
"…A phoenix cub?"
Her voice darkened.
"Annoying."
The Crow stepped toward Zhao Yuan.
The Owl tightened her grip on Zhao Ming.
Pin Sujin charged with everything he had, veins bulging, teeth bared.
Lin Xue's wings of flame unfurled behind her.
The arena became a battlefield.
A hunt.
A slaughter waiting to happen.
And one truth echoed in every heart—
When the Hunters from The Tree begin moving,
no one who stands in their way
is forgiven