The day of the final match dawned with a different kind of energy. The air over the tournament island was not thick with the chaotic buzz of the preliminary rounds, but with a sharp, clear, and almost sacred anticipation. The entire world, it seemed, was holding its breath.
In Elder Bao's laboratory, the mood was somber. "I have no strategy for this," Bao admitted, his voice for once devoid of any mania. He stood before a tactical board, but it was blank. "The disciples of the Adamantine Temple are different. They do not fight to defeat you; they fight to make you defeat yourself."
He looked at Bu He, his gaze heavy. "The 'Diamond Body' technique is a perfect defense. It doesn't just block kinetic force; their refined Qi field reflects it. It doesn't just block spiritual attacks; it purifies them into nothingness. He is, in theory, your perfect counter. Your brute force will be turned against you, and your heretical Leyna may be purified before it even reaches him."
"So there is no plan?" Ci Ying asked, her voice tense.
"The plan," Bao said, looking directly into Bu He's eyes, "is Bu He himself. This will not be a battle of techniques. It will be a battle of wills. We will see which philosophy is more absolute: the vortex that consumes all, or the mountain that moves for nothing."
Their walk to the arena was a parade through a sea of whispers. Every eye was on them. The disciples of the great sects looked on with a mixture of fear and morbid curiosity. In the crowd, Bu He saw a flash of gold—Xue Feng, standing with his arms crossed, his face pale, his aura a shadow of its former glory. Their eyes met for a second, and in Xue Feng's gaze, Bu He saw not just hatred, but a flicker of bitter confusion. He was watching to see if the monster who had shattered his world could be stopped.
The final arena was a place of breathtaking beauty and intimidating simplicity. It was called the "Celestial Mirror." It was not a platform of stone or earth, but a vast, perfectly circular floor made of a single, seamless piece of polished, sky-reflecting crystal. Standing upon it gave the illusion of battling in the heavens themselves, with the clouds and the sky both above and below.
In the very center, Wu Wei was already there. He sat in a meditative lotus position, his eyes closed, his presence as serene and immense as a mountain lake. The chaotic energy of the thousands of spectators seemed to part around him, unable to disturb his perfect tranquility.
Bu He walked onto the crystal mirror. His reflection rose from below to meet him. He walked until he stood opposite the still, silent monk. There were no words. Only the silent acknowledgment of two opposing forces of nature about to collide.
The Head Instructor's voice boomed from the heavens.
"The final match of the Challenge of the Heavens! From the Adamantine Temple, Wu Wei! From the Secret Tower's Heretic Team, Bu He!" His voice paused, letting the tension build. "The winner shall receive the title of this generation's greatest champion, and the grand prize… a Thousand-Year Frost Lotus! Let the final battle… BEGIN!"
Bu He knew that a long battle was a risk to his sanity. The hunger in his core was a beast that grew more restless with every passing moment. He had to end this. He had to test the limits of that perfect defense.
With a deep Leyna Breath, he called upon the humming power of his Blood Core. With a Traceless Burst, he closed the distance in an instant, focusing all his power into a single, heavy fist. It was the same overwhelming physical force that had shattered Xue Feng's spirit.
But Wu Wei was not Xue Feng.
Just before Bu He's fist could make contact with Wu Wei's serene face, it struck an invisible, shimmering barrier. The Diamond Body field. The force of the impact didn't just stop. It was as if he had punched a perfect mirror. The entirety of his own devastating force was reflected back at him in an instant.
Bu He was thrown backward, his own punch sending a shockwave of agony up his arm. He landed hard on the crystal floor, skidding several meters, his knuckles bruised and his bones rattling from the force of his own attack.
The crowd gasped.
Across the mirror, Wu Wei, who had not moved a single inch, slowly opened his eyes. They were as calm and deep as a bottomless lake, holding no malice, only a profound certainty.
"Your path is one of consumption," Wu Wei's voice echoed calmly across the Celestial Mirror. "But a vortex cannot swallow a mountain. Surrender."
Bu He pushed himself up, shaking his bruised hand. He stared at the immovable monk, a grim understanding dawning on his face. Brute force was useless. To defeat this monster, he first had to find a way to shatter a perfect mirror.