From Abbot Shen Ming's Perspective
The girl fighting the so-called Calamity Boy was, at the very least, admirable.
From a monk's point of view — one used to the serenity of mountains and the slow blooming of flowers — there was something deeply poetic about the way she moved.Every strike was measured, every breath calculated — and yet, there was passion and fury in each motion.
She fought as if the sword were an extension of her soul.And perhaps it was.
"Ah… what a pity," I thought, watching from my seat, hands joined before my chest.
If my monastery accepted women, I might have considered taking her as a disciple.She was the kind of student the elders would call "worthy of the Martial Dao."She had the purity of intent, the strength of heart, and the discipline that many men spent a lifetime trying to achieve.
But fate, cruel as always, had not been so generous.The Monastery would never accept a woman within its walls.And in any case, her nature wasn't that of one who could live in silence.She belonged to battle — to the sound of steel, to the living flame of movement.
Even so, I couldn't help but sigh.It was useless.Completely useless.
No matter how talented she was, she was facing him — the boy the world called Zhuge, the Calamity.And of all the beings I had seen in my long life, he was, without question, the most unpredictable.
With every strike, I could see her effort, her determination, her will to win — but also the futility of it all.Yu Jin wasn't fighting.He was simply moving.As if his body reacted before his mind could think.As if instinct itself moved faster than technique.
She didn't realize it, but he was toying with her.And still, she didn't give up.Her eyes burned like embers.That was the look of someone who still believed they could change their fate.
And that was how I knew — when she stepped back a few paces — what was coming next.
I had seen that look before.Countless times.The look of someone about to do something reckless.
Her breathing changed.The spiritual flow in her body began to spiral, too fast, unstable.The ground beneath her feet trembled, and the particles of energy around her responded — drawn toward her center like leaves swept into an invisible vortex.
My heart sank.That was no ordinary technique.Not something that could be taught openly.It was forbidden.
I didn't know its name, but I recognized the kind of power it was.The energy surged too quickly, far beyond what her body could contain.The Qi consumption was absurd.In mere moments, it would drain everything — body, mind, and soul.
And then I knew: if she continued, she would pay a terrible price.
"Emperor Wu…" I murmured, breaking the silence and turning to the man seated beside me.
He looked at me, surprised.It was rare for me to speak.Rarer still to interrupt an imperial duel.
"Would Your Majesty heed the words of an old monk?" I asked.
The emperor frowned but nodded, his voice firm."Of course. What counsel do you offer, Abbot?"
"Though it may not be the most honorable course," I began carefully, choosing every word, "I fear Your Highness should put an end to this duel."
For a moment, he seemed confused.His brows arched; his eyes narrowed.
"You fear for the Zhuge heir's life?" he asked.Then, before I could reply, he continued,"Do not worry. Yue knows her limits."
Limits.
The word echoed in my mind like distant thunder.A cultivator's limits are not barriers… they are invitations.And those who defy fate, like her, rarely stop at them.
I sighed.It was pointless.
No one would believe it — not until they saw.Not even him.Not even me.
I turned my eyes back to the arena.
The girl's body now radiated visible heat, tiny embers floating around her.The crimson of her blade was almost blinding, and the spiritual pressure made the air vibrate.
Even the reinforced floor, carved with containment runes, began to crack.
The flame surrounding her wasn't mere energy — it was the pure will of a desperate soul.
And then… she charged.
The scream of the wind merged with the roar of fire.Her figure became a crimson blur, her sword carving through the air like lightning.
The battle that would decide both their fates began in that instant.
The boy was still smiling.
Even as the young warrior lunged at him, even as the entire arena trembled under the power she had unleashed, Zhuge Yu Jin wore that same relaxed, almost lazy smile — the one I had learned to fear.
I sighed once more.I knew what was coming — not the precise result, but the feeling.That suffocating pressure I had experienced only once before in my life.
And then, the fire appeared.
Not the common fire of the mortal world, but a spiritual one — gold at its edges, red at its core — a living flame no human should be able to awaken.
It burst from Yu Jin's back like a pair of burning wings, expanding in concentric waves that distorted the air around them.
The heat didn't burn.It was worse.It pressed against the soul.
Even the emperor's guards instinctively stepped back.And for a brief moment, the world seemed to stop.
I had seen it before.
When young Zhuge, in a fit of uncontrollable fury, stood among one hundred and four monk corpses — the ground soaked in blood, the air heavy with smoke.Back then, the same golden fire had risen behind him.A fire that didn't just destroy — it consumed.
Now, that same flame burned again.But this time, before him stood not an army, nor a temple… only a girl.
Wu Xian Yue.
And she came at him with everything she had.
The sword in her hand gleamed like a red sun.Spiritual pressure exploded from her body in waves that made the runes of the arena flicker at their limits.She was the very definition of courage — or madness.
The sound of her final strike echoed like thunder tearing the sky apart.
And Yu Jin… didn't move.
He didn't retreat.Didn't dodge.Didn't raise a single barrier.
He simply lifted his hand.
The gesture was calm, almost casual — like plucking a piece of fruit from a plate.But when her sword came down, the impact that followed was… indescribable.
The golden fire blazed once more, and there was no sound of metal meeting flesh.What echoed instead was a dull crack — the sound of a blade striking stone.
The sword had stopped.
Not because it lost strength.But because it had been caught.
Yu Jin held the blade's edge between his fingers — unarmed, unguarded, no visible technique, just his bare hand.
The spiritual energy around the sword dissipated like smoke within the golden light radiating from his skin.The red flames enveloping the girl wavered, uncertain — as if they had found something that refused to burn.
For a heartbeat, the entire world held its breath.
Silence fell — absolute.
Yue stared at him, eyes wide, her body still locked in the motion of a strike that had never landed.Her face was a blend of disbelief and shock.
Then, his voice echoed across the arena — light, steady, and cruelly calm:
"That was a fine strike," Yu Jin said, still holding the blade between his fingers, the same unshaken smile on his lips. "But if that's all you've got… you should start packing your bags."
The fire behind him roared, vibrating as if obeying its master's command.And for the first time in many years, even I — who thought I had seen everything — felt a shiver crawl down my spine.
The Calamity of Zhuge had awakened once more.