From Wu Xian Yue's Perspective
Yue couldn't understand what was happening.
Her cultivation level was the same as that man's — First Stage of Spiritual Refinement.
And she was three years younger than him.
By any logic she knew, that meant only one thing:
if they shared the same level, then her talent had to be greater.
But the reality before her eyes made no sense at all.
None of her attacks hit him.
Not one.
Every strike, every movement, every charge — he dodged them all as if it were a game.
It wasn't like fighting someone stronger, nor someone with superior techniques.
It was like fighting the wind.
He simply stepped aside, turned his body, or leaned back, always just out of reach — always fluid.
And worst of all, he kept that insolent smile on his face.
That smile.
The same one she was beginning to hate more than the sound of clashing steel.
For a moment, her heart raced — not from exhaustion, but from frustration.
The sound of her breathing echoed inside the silent helmet that focus created.
Her sword still vibrated in her grip, the metal hot from the energy built up by wasted strikes.
In the end, Yue took a step back.
She drew in a deep breath, then forced the air out slowly, emptying her lungs.
She needed to calm down.
It was useless to attack like a storm when he was the kind of man who could dance within it.
She straightened, retreating to her starting point.
Her boots touched the center of the symbol carved into the stone floor, and there she stopped.
Her eyes closed for a moment — just long enough to feel her heartbeat align with the energy inside her body.
When she opened them, silence filled the arena.
Yu Jin was still there, only a few meters away, arms relaxed, the same calm smile on his lips as he watched her.
As if nothing in the world could disturb him.
As if all of this were a private performance meant solely for his amusement.
He wasn't taking the duel seriously.
She knew it.
He was underestimating her — letting her attack as much as she pleased, without countering, without advancing.
Letting her tire herself out, as if saying, without words: "I don't need to fight to win."
Yue tightened her grip on the sword.
The sound of stretched leather whispered softly.
A wave of heat rose through her chest, burning like resolve made flesh.
That man would pay dearly for such arrogance.
She closed her eyes again and dove inward.
Spiritual energy moved.
First, a pulse in her dantian — calm and steady, like a distant drumbeat.
Then the flow quickened, rising through her spiritual veins, racing along her arms until it reached the blade.
The sword answered with a sound almost alive — a faint metallic whisper, vibrating, as if it knew what was coming.
The color began to change.
From cold silver, the blade turned red-hot, as though liquid fire flowed within the metal.
Spiritual flames shimmered across its surface, flickering irregularly — alive, wild, dangerous.
The heat was so intense the air around her rippled, and the stone beneath her feet glowed faintly in response to the Qi's pressure.
The Flames of War.
One of the Wu Clan's forbidden techniques.
She had never used it before anyone — not even in her father's presence.
Only her masters knew she had mastered the art.
And even they, fearing the price she would pay, had begged her never to use it.
But now… she had no choice.
Her body began to vibrate with power.
The spiritual pressure thickened, squeezing the air around her, sparks rising from the ground.
The crimson glow reflected off her skin, painting it in shades of fire.
Behind her, the air trembled.
And slowly, a ghostly figure took form — tall, slender, clad in a shattered armor coated with dust from ancient battles.
It was the manifestation of her Martial Soul:
The Indomitable Warrior.
The apparition hovered like a living mirage, holding a flaming spear, eyes steady and unbreakable — the same gaze that now burned within Yue's own.
As soon as the image stabilized, everything changed.
The weight on her shoulders vanished.
Her breath became light.
Her thoughts — sharp, precise.
It was as if the entire world had slowed down.
Her spiritual energy flowed in perfect harmony, coursing through her body like the steady current of a river.
This was her strongest state — a power she had never revealed to anyone.
But she knew the cost.
After this, she wouldn't be able to use a drop of Qi for three days.
Three days of weakness.
Three days as nothing more than a mortal.
Yet fear had never been something that stopped her.
Because in this moment, her life was being decided.
And if she had to sacrifice tomorrow to secure today, she would do it without hesitation.
Yue raised her sword before her, the crimson blade splitting the air like a line of fire, and her eyes — now glowing like burning coals — locked once more onto Yu Jin.
He was still smiling.
But now, the air around them began to tremble.
What had once been a duel...
was about to become war.
Yue didn't hesitate anymore.
The time for doubt had passed.
Every part of her — body, mind, and spirit — converged toward a single purpose: victory.
She twisted her wrist, and the ringing hum of her blade rolled through the arena like the distant growl of thunder.
The ground beneath her cracked the instant she leapt forward.
The force of her jump left marks in the stone, and the air erupted in a swirling vortex of red.
The strike was not merely physical — it was spiritual, an extension of everything she was.
Her sword shot forward like lightning wrapped in flame, cutting through the space between her and Yu Jin in the blink of an eye.
The blade carried the weight of her will, the pain of her years of discipline, and the silent cry of her soul for freedom.
A strike not meant to wound — but to break free.
Flaming Qi exploded around her, forming a luminous arc.
The figure of her Martial Soul — the Indomitable Warrior — moved in unison, merging with the attack.
Two forces, one purpose.
Yue felt the heat scorch her skin, the thin air burn her lungs, her heart pounding with the rhythm of a thousand drums.
Every fiber of her body screamed.
Every cell burned.
This would be the strike that decided everything —
the blow that would determine whether the future was hers… or whether fate would chain her again.
She believed she could win.
She had to win.
The distance between them vanished in an instant.
The crimson blade sliced through the air — fast, precise, unstoppable.
But what happened next…
was not what she expected.
Chapter 44 – When the Moon Wore Fire
From Wu Xian Yue's Perspective
Yue couldn't understand what was happening.
Her cultivation level was the same as that man's — First Stage of Spiritual Refinement.
And she was three years younger than him.
By any logic she knew, that meant only one thing:
if they shared the same level, then her talent had to be greater.
But the reality before her eyes made no sense at all.
None of her attacks hit him.
Not one.
Every strike, every movement, every charge — he dodged them all as if it were a game.
It wasn't like fighting someone stronger, nor someone with superior techniques.
It was like fighting the wind.
He simply stepped aside, turned his body, or leaned back, always just out of reach — always fluid.
And worst of all, he kept that insolent smile on his face.
That smile.
The same one she was beginning to hate more than the sound of clashing steel.
For a moment, her heart raced — not from exhaustion, but from frustration.
The sound of her breathing echoed inside the silent helmet that focus created.
Her sword still vibrated in her grip, the metal hot from the energy built up by wasted strikes.
In the end, Yue took a step back.
She drew in a deep breath, then forced the air out slowly, emptying her lungs.
She needed to calm down.
It was useless to attack like a storm when he was the kind of man who could dance within it.
She straightened, retreating to her starting point.
Her boots touched the center of the symbol carved into the stone floor, and there she stopped.
Her eyes closed for a moment — just long enough to feel her heartbeat align with the energy inside her body.
When she opened them, silence filled the arena.
Yu Jin was still there, only a few meters away, arms relaxed, the same calm smile on his lips as he watched her.
As if nothing in the world could disturb him.
As if all of this were a private performance meant solely for his amusement.
He wasn't taking the duel seriously.
She knew it.
He was underestimating her — letting her attack as much as she pleased, without countering, without advancing.
Letting her tire herself out, as if saying, without words: "I don't need to fight to win."
Yue tightened her grip on the sword.
The sound of stretched leather whispered softly.
A wave of heat rose through her chest, burning like resolve made flesh.
That man would pay dearly for such arrogance.
She closed her eyes again and dove inward.
Spiritual energy moved.
First, a pulse in her dantian — calm and steady, like a distant drumbeat.
Then the flow quickened, rising through her spiritual veins, racing along her arms until it reached the blade.
The sword answered with a sound almost alive — a faint metallic whisper, vibrating, as if it knew what was coming.
The color began to change.
From cold silver, the blade turned red-hot, as though liquid fire flowed within the metal.
Spiritual flames shimmered across its surface, flickering irregularly — alive, wild, dangerous.
The heat was so intense the air around her rippled, and the stone beneath her feet glowed faintly in response to the Qi's pressure.
The Flames of War.
One of the Wu Clan's forbidden techniques.
She had never used it before anyone — not even in her father's presence.
Only her masters knew she had mastered the art.
And even they, fearing the price she would pay, had begged her never to use it.
But now… she had no choice.
Her body began to vibrate with power.
The spiritual pressure thickened, squeezing the air around her, sparks rising from the ground.
The crimson glow reflected off her skin, painting it in shades of fire.
Behind her, the air trembled.
And slowly, a ghostly figure took form — tall, slender, clad in a shattered armor coated with dust from ancient battles.
It was the manifestation of her Martial Soul:
The Indomitable Warrior.
The apparition hovered like a living mirage, holding a flaming spear, eyes steady and unbreakable — the same gaze that now burned within Yue's own.
As soon as the image stabilized, everything changed.
The weight on her shoulders vanished.
Her breath became light.
Her thoughts — sharp, precise.
It was as if the entire world had slowed down.
Her spiritual energy flowed in perfect harmony, coursing through her body like the steady current of a river.
This was her strongest state — a power she had never revealed to anyone.
But she knew the cost.
After this, she wouldn't be able to use a drop of Qi for three days.
Three days of weakness.
Three days as nothing more than a mortal.
Yet fear had never been something that stopped her.
Because in this moment, her life was being decided.
And if she had to sacrifice tomorrow to secure today, she would do it without hesitation.
Yue raised her sword before her, the crimson blade splitting the air like a line of fire, and her eyes — now glowing like burning coals — locked once more onto Yu Jin.
He was still smiling.
But now, the air around them began to tremble.
What had once been a duel...
was about to become war.
Yue didn't hesitate anymore.
The time for doubt had passed.
Every part of her — body, mind, and spirit — converged toward a single purpose: victory.
She twisted her wrist, and the ringing hum of her blade rolled through the arena like the distant growl of thunder.
The ground beneath her cracked the instant she leapt forward.
The force of her jump left marks in the stone, and the air erupted in a swirling vortex of red.
The strike was not merely physical — it was spiritual, an extension of everything she was.
Her sword shot forward like lightning wrapped in flame, cutting through the space between her and Yu Jin in the blink of an eye.
The blade carried the weight of her will, the pain of her years of discipline, and the silent cry of her soul for freedom.
A strike not meant to wound — but to break free.
Flaming Qi exploded around her, forming a luminous arc.
The figure of her Martial Soul — the Indomitable Warrior — moved in unison, merging with the attack.
Two forces, one purpose.
Yue felt the heat scorch her skin, the thin air burn her lungs, her heart pounding with the rhythm of a thousand drums.
Every fiber of her body screamed.
Every cell burned.
This would be the strike that decided everything —
the blow that would determine whether the future was hers… or whether fate would chain her again.
She believed she could win.
She had to win.
The distance between them vanished in an instant.
The crimson blade sliced through the air — fast, precise, unstoppable.
But what happened next…
was not what she expected.