Their tongues swirled and twined together, their bodies melding as they lost themselves in the moment. The wet sounds of their kissing echoed in the room, filling it with the scent of their passion.
Kyle's hands roamed freely, from Nuna's waist sinking lower until he grabbed each of her ass cheeks, kneading and queezing them lightly, teasing the supple flesh of her curved ass.
"Ahhhhh!"
When they finally broke apart, they stood there for a moment, their breaths coming in shallow pants, their gazes locked onto each other's. Their eyes were misty, filled with a raw, primal emotion that spoke of their intense connection.
The air between them lingered for a beat, soft and unspoken, before the door behind them opened quietly. Sebastian entered, bowing slightly.
"Young master, Lady Nuna," he greeted. "The second round will commence by sundown. Participants are to report to the lower floors for registration and assignment."
Kyle nodded, rising from his seat. "Then let's not keep them waiting."
He turned to Nuna, offering a hand. "Shall we?"
"Lead the way," she said with a light smile.
They stepped out together, moving down the grand spiraling stairs. The marble glistened beneath their steps, and faint mana lights floated along the walls.
"So," Nuna said casually as they walked, "how do you think the others fared?"
Kyle shrugged. "The ones worth remembering made it through. The rest… well, they served their purpose."
Nuna chuckled softly. "You sound cruel."
"Just realistic."
They descended further, and the sound of the roaring crowd grew louder, seeping faintly through the barriers between floors. They passed a few attendants, all bowing respectfully as they went.
Nuna tilted her head, glancing at Kyle. "You've been calm this whole time. Are you ever nervous?"
Kyle smiled faintly. "Only when you're mad at me."
She laughed lightly. "That's a lie. I don't think I have ever been mad at you."
He raised a brow. "Maybe. But you know what that means? I have never been nervous. I just think that there's no use worrying over things that might be out of your control."
Their quiet banter continued as they finally reached the bottom floor of the arena—a massive open hall filled with rows of seats, tables, and recovery arrays glowing softly.
The moment they entered, all conversation stopped.
Heads turned.
Whispers spread.
"Who is he?…"
"You mean who are they. Look at the woman beside him…"
"They're both seeded participants…"
Kyle ignored the attention entirely, walking with his usual composure. Nuna, though graceful, felt the stares—some admiring, others wary.
Not just them—others were arriving too. Out of the sixty-four seeded participants, more than half entered around the same time, each radiating an overwhelming aura that pressed faintly against the room.
They were all young, yes, but their confidence, their very presence, screamed power.
Someone muttered under their breath, "We're supposed to fight against them?"
Another sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Forget the finals… at this point, I just want to survive a round."
A third whispered, "If we get matched with one of them early, it's over."
The unspoken thought rippled through the hall—monsters. These seeded ones weren't just cultivators; they were walking storms. Most of them at least
As people whispered and compared, more people walked in together, catching the eyes of a few who had recognized them from the arena screens.
"They made it out of the realm alive?" one disciple said quietly.
"Moonlight Sect's outer disciples, right? Huh… impressive."
Serena eyed the new entrances, quietly taking a seat near the corner with Delia. The two shared a brief nod.
"You ready for the next round?" Delia asked.
Serena exhaled, glancing toward the center of the hall. "Ready as I'll ever be." It was obvious this stage was going to be on a different scale than the last.
Sure, theoretically, there would be fewer dangers and variables compared to the hidden realm, but there were also fewer chances of surviving by the skin of your teeth. Here, if you were matched against an overwhelmingly strong opponent, that was it.
Just as everyone was getting settled in, the atmosphere changed in an instant.
A sudden, subtle pressure filled the room—soft at first, but quickly heavy enough to make the air thicken. Conversations stopped. The faint buzz of mana flickered like a dying flame.
Then, three figures appeared.
Two women and a man, all three standing at the center of the hall.
The one in front was breathtakingly beautiful—long hair cascading like liquid silk, her robes gleaming faintly with runic light. Her aura was impossible to read, vast and calm yet oppressive.
The two behind her, a man and another woman, stood silently, one step behind.
Even Kyle, standing tall among the elites, narrowed his eyes slightly. She's strong, he thought.
The woman at the front cleared her throat softly, her voice amplified by qi, carrying effortlessly across the room.
"Congratulations to everyone here for making it this far," she began, her tone calm but powerful. "That includes the seeded participants. Being seeded is not a gift—it is a recognition of your strength. Be proud of that."
The crowd remained silent, all eyes fixed on her.
"Now," she continued, "as you may have heard, you have until sundown before the second round begins. Those who survived the first round will be given recovery elixirs to ensure fairness."
A flick of her wrist—and suddenly, a faint shimmer filled the air.
Before each of the nine hundred and sixty participants, a translucent pill materialized, floating gently in the air.
The woman smiled faintly. "Take it. It will restore your qi and body instantly."
Without hesitation, most grabbed the pill and swallowed it. A rush of cool energy flooded through them immediately. Cuts closed, bruises faded, torn muscles stitched themselves whole again.
Serena blinked in surprise, flexing her hand. "That's… incredible."
Delia nodded, eyes slightly wide. "Mid-grade Restoration Pill. Rare stuff."
Nearby, another group of disciples murmured in awe.
"Never thought I'd get to taste something like this."
"Feels like a cold breeze running through my veins…"
"Careful not to get used to it."
The leading woman waited patiently until the murmuring died down.
"Now that that's out of the way," she said, her gaze sweeping the room. "From this point on, the tournament will proceed as a one-on-one elimination. You lose once—you're out."
The tension in the hall spiked.
"You will receive further instructions before sundown. Until then, prepare yourselves," she finished, her expression unreadable. "Rest while you can. The true test begins soon."
Then—without another word—she and her companions vanished in a ripple of energy, leaving behind only silence.
For a long moment, no one moved.
Then, slowly, the murmurs returned.
"So it's one-on-one now…"
"That means—no more teams. No more hiding."
"Good. I prefer a fair fight."
Serena sat quietly, her fingers brushing over the hilt of her blade. "One-on-one, huh," she whispered. "Guess there's no room to slip up."
Delia smirked faintly. "That's what makes it fun."
Across the room, Kyle and Nuna shared a look.
"Finally," Kyle said quietly. "The real tournament begins."
Nuna nodded, her eyes gleaming. "Let's make it worth watching."
Outside, the sun hung high—its descent slow but inevitable. The crowd above was still roaring, the air thick with excitement, as Annalise's voice echoed once more:
"Rest up, my dear participants! Because when the sun sets…"
She smiled, her voice rising like thunder.
"…the true storm begins!"
The crowd answered with a roar that could be heard for miles.
And beneath that noise, in the quiet halls of the arena, around nine hundred and sixty cultivators prepared themselves—knowing that when the sun touched the horizon, every strike would matter, every breath would count.
The calm before the storm never lasted long. And this time, even more so.