The noon sun hung heavy above the dueling ground, its light dimmed beneath gathering storm clouds. The crowd was restless—too many had witnessed Xuanye's terrifying display the day before, and whispers filled the stands like wind before thunder.
Then came the voice of the referee, echoing through the arena:
"Next duel—Ling Xuanye of Qingling Sect versus Zuo Kuang of the Obsidian Bone Sect!"
The air shifted. Every breath carried tension.
Xuanye stepped forward, his expression calm—too calm. His black and navy robes fluttered faintly as lightning traced faint silver lines around his shoulders. Across the field, Zuo Kuang entered with his signature arrogance, dragging the haft of his bone spear against the stone, leaving sparks behind.
A smirk twisted his face.
"So, you're the famous Young Master," Zuo Kuang said, voice dripping with mockery. "I must thank your sect for sending me such delightful toys. That Feng Ruo of yours… her fear was exquisite—the way her eyes trembled as I broke her flame apart. Hah. The most beautiful sight of this tournament."
The crowd froze. The taunt sliced through the air sharper than any blade.
Xuanye didn't move. He simply stared at Zuo Kuang with eyes that no longer held warmth. His voice, when it came, was soft and cold enough to chill the arena.
"You talk too much. In a few minutes, you won't have the tongue to do so again."
The Duel Begins
The referee barely lowered his hand before Xuanye's sword flashed—a blur of silver and blue.
Zuo Kuang blocked with his bone spear, sparks erupting as metal met marrow. But Xuanye wasn't striking to kill—yet. Each blow found its mark with unnerving precision: a cut across the shoulder, another at the thigh, a stab grazing the arm.
He didn't aim for vitals.He aimed for pain.
The crowd murmured.
"He's… toying with him?""No. He's returning every strike Feng Ruo suffered."
Zuo Kuang roared, fury overtaking reason. He thrust his palm forward."Bone Poison Surge (腐骨浪)!"
A wave of pale-green miasma burst toward Xuanye, devouring the ground in corrosion. Xuanye dodged, his robes fluttering, but a sliver of bone energy grazed his cheek.
A red line opened across his skin.A single drop of blood fell.
The world seemed to hold its breath.
Xuanye lifted his hand and touched the blood. His gaze shifted—no longer calm, no longer composed. The thunder that always slept within him stirred awake.
Lightning cracked across the sky.
Unchained Storm
Zuo Kuang smirked, misreading that silence.
"Bleeding already? Maybe I'll add you to my collection next!"
Before he could finish, the world around him flashed.
Xuanye vanished.A thunderclap followed.
"Heavenstep Lightning Veil (天行雷幕)!"
Xuanye appeared behind him, blade already swinging. Each movement hummed with divine electricity. Sparks rained, melting stone beneath his feet. He struck again—faster, sharper—his strikes forming arcs of blue light that hummed like a storm's heartbeat.
Zuo Kuang barely raised his spear before it was split in half.Xuanye's next slash struck his leg; the one after, his shoulder. The third carved the air beside his neck, close enough to let the static burn his skin.
"You said her fear was beautiful," Xuanye's voice echoed like distant thunder. "Then let me show you what true fear feels like."
Zuo Kuang screamed and unleashed his final technique—"Bone Tyrant's Last Grasp (骨魔夺命)!"—dark tendrils erupted from his body, clawing at the air, reaching to crush Xuanye whole.
Xuanye didn't flinch. His blade pulsed with pure thunder qi.He whispered,
"Void Heaven Style — Thunder Severance Slash (雷灭斩)."
A blinding light consumed the stage. The explosion of thunder shook the arena, forcing spectators to shield their eyes. When the dust cleared, Zuo Kuang was kneeling—his weapon shattered, armor split, body trembling. Blood streamed from his mouth as he looked up, terrified.
Xuanye stood before him, his sword glowing faintly, its tip aimed just above his heart.
He raised the blade once more—ready to strike again.
"Xuanye, stop!" elders shouted, rising to their feet. "He's defeated!"
But Xuanye's eyes didn't waver. He stepped forward once more, aura rippling like a restrained tempest—until Sect Master Lin's voice thundered across the arena:
"Xuanye! Enough!"
The shout broke through the haze of rage.Xuanye halted, lowering his sword slowly. The light around him dimmed, leaving silence behind.
Zuo Kuang collapsed, coughing blood, barely conscious.
Aftermath
The audience remained frozen. Even those who despised Qingling dared not speak. The calm, cheerful young master they once mocked was gone—replaced by something else, something dangerous and absolute.
On the elders' platform, Sect Master Lin's face was unreadable. Pride warred with dread in his eyes.
"He's changed…" one elder whispered."No," another said. "He's finally awakened."