A heavy silence descended upon the Whispering Shadowwood, broken only by the hiss of melting ice and the ragged breathing of the four companions. Leng Yue, the proud Ice Prince, was still on one knee, the impact having shattered more than just his ice seal—it had shattered his understanding of power. He looked at Bu He, not with hatred, but with the dazed confusion of a man who had seen a mountain move.
"Your path... is one of chaos," Leng Yue finally managed, his voice strained. "It is powerful. But it will consume you." He rose slowly, supported by his disciples. Without another word, they turned and vanished into the mist, their tournament hopes extinguished. They were eliminated.
Ci Ying let out a whoop of triumphant laughter, the sound sharp in the quiet clearing. "We did it! We actually did it!"
"The Spirit Flag," Jian Ming reminded them, his voice calm but his eyes bright with the thrill of their impossible victory.
They walked to the center of the grove. The flag stood on a small pedestal, its silk banner pulsing with a gentle, neutral life energy. As Bu He reached out and took it, a soothing warmth spread through his battered body, a stark contrast to the violent, hungry fire of his own Leyna. For a moment, the gnawing in his core subsided.
"Let's go," Bu He said, his voice hoarse. "Let's get out of this place."
As they stepped through the shimmering exit portal, the chaotic landscape of the Shattered Pagoda dissolved, replaced by the overwhelming reality of the Grand Plaza.
They were not met with a roar of applause. They were met with absolute, profound silence.
Tens of thousands of cultivators—masters, disciples, elders from every great sect—stared at them. They had watched, through the great projection crystals, as this unknown team of misfits from the Alchemy Division had not only survived, but had dismantled two of the tournament's most promising teams. They saw the blood on Bu He's torn robes, the exhaustion on Ci Ying's face, the calm intensity of Jian Ming, the quiet resilience of Lian Hua. They saw the Spirit Flag in Bu He's hand.
This was the silence of fear. The silence of witnessing an anomaly defy all logic. In the stands, Xue Feng's hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists, his face a mask of cold fury. Mei Qian watched from behind her fan, her eyes alight with a dangerous, calculating curiosity.
But it was Elder Bao's reaction that was the most telling. He was on his feet, his body trembling, a massive, manic grin threatening to split his face. He was trying to contain his pride, but it was leaking out of him like steam from one of his unstable concoctions. He looked like a father whose son had not only won, but had done so by burning the entire school down.
The team was escorted away from the arena, the crowd parting before them like water before a hot stone. They walked not as heroes, but as omens.
Back in the quiet solitude of their quarters at the Lotus Clan guesthouse, the adrenaline finally faded. It was replaced by an bone-deep exhaustion and the sharp sting of their wounds. In this moment of quiet vulnerability, their bond as a team solidified. Ci Ying, wincing, used a gentle flame to warm a healing salve that Lian Hua applied to a deep gash on Jian Ming's arm. Jian Ming, in turn, was already reviewing the battle in his mind.
"Your feint was perfect, Ci Ying," he said. "But your initial volley wasted too much energy. Lian Hua, your timing was flawless. Bu He... you were the anvil. But you took too much damage. You let him hit you too many times."
It was then that it happened.
Bu He, who had been sitting silently, suddenly gasped. A violent tremor ran through his body. The faint crimson mark on his chest began to glow, an angry, pulsing light visible even through his robes.
"Bu He!" Ci Ying cried out, rushing to his side.
He collapsed to the floor, his body convulsing. A dark, crimson vapor began to seep from his skin. The "hunger" of his Blood Core, fed by two intense battles and the absorption of so much hostile Qi, was now demanding payment. The stabilizing pill Mei Qian had given him was no longer enough. The backlash had arrived.
He was losing consciousness, the concerned faces of his friends blurring into a red haze. The last thing he heard was the door to their quarters bursting open and the panicked, roaring voice of his master.
"Get away from him, you fools! The Core is trying to devour him!"