Morning light hadn't yet risen.
Cold wind seeped through the corridor cracks.
Xiǎo Chén pushed open his dorm door—
Just as his eyes caught a figure standing outside.
It was Bái Shī.
Behind him stood a bruised silhouette—
Shī Tóngbǎi, his face still mottled with fading purple.
Xuán Chén and Xiǎo Chén both glanced at Bái Shī.
Neither spoke.
Their steps didn't slow.
Bái Shī frowned,
Raised a hand to block them.
Xiǎo Chén sneered,
Spear tapping the ground—
"President Bái Shī—
Planning another sneak attack?"
"Make it easier for White Profound Society to win?"
Bái Shī pressed his lips,
Voice low—
"This time…
I didn't know."
"It was my men acting on their own."
"If you want to blame someone—
Blame those reckless dogs."
"Don't blame the whole White Profound."
"I didn't want this.
Now Silver Mirror gets to profit."
Xiǎo Chén tapped his spear against the doorframe,
Said nothing.
Just glanced at Xuán Chén.
Xuán Chén's fingers still held talisman breath.
He looked back coldly—
"Whether it was rogue action or indulgence—
We'll settle it after the duel."
Bái Shī looked like he wanted to speak—
But didn't.
He stepped aside.
Xiǎo Chén snorted,
Ignored him,
And walked past with Xuán Chén toward the arena.
—
Morning wind swept through the corridor.
Crowds had already gathered at the arena's edge.
Whispers filled the air—
Cold laughter,
Doubt.
Few believed this duel could turn the tide.
When the two reached the arena,
The barrier hadn't fully activated.
Shī Tóngbǎi leaned against the railing,
Blood still crusted at the corner of his mouth.
But his eyes burned with fury.
His voice rasped—
"Senior brothers…
Get my blood back."
"When you return—
Drinks are on me."
Xiǎo Chén lowered his gaze,
Tapped his spear shaft,
A cold smirk forming—
"Wait for it."
They turned,
Stepped onto the arena with Shī Tóngbǎi.
Already waiting were two fighters—
One from White Profound,
One from Silver Mirror.
Dù Jīn stood nearby,
Assigned as referee and witness.
His gaze swept the field.
He sighed inwardly—
These two aren't like Xiàng Yuán.
If they lose—
It won't end with bruises.
—
The three walked to the center of the arena.
It stood in the inner courtyard's open space.
Four corners held talisman pillars,
Their runes faintly glowing.
The platform was pieced from blue stone,
Edges carved with sealing patterns.
Dark red blood still stained the cracks.
Old sword marks snaked across the surface—
Like reminders to every challenger—
No one leaves this place clean.
The moment his foot touched the blue stone,
Talisman breath rippled like water.
All retreat was sealed.
Outside the viewing steps,
Voices dimmed.
Every gaze locked onto the few standing in the arena.
Dù Jīn spoke solemnly—
"Today's duel is bound by a Life-and-Death Pact."
"It settles victory—
And fate."
"No poison.
No borrowed hands.
No switching opponents."
"All by the pact."
He looked to both sides—
"Who fights first,
Who holds the rear—
You decide."
Xuán Chén and Xiǎo Chén exchanged a glance.
Xiǎo Chén stepped forward, spear in hand—
"I'll go first."
Dù Jīn nodded.
Raised a hand.
Two pacts were brought forth.
Both sides signed their names before the crowd.
Dù Jīn lifted the scrolls—
"Pacts signed.
Fates sealed.
Responsibility is yours."
He stepped back to the high platform.
Only Xiǎo Chén and the White Profound Society swordsman remained.
The Silver Mirror talismanist scoffed,
Arms crossed,
Stepping down with disdain.
Xuán Chén followed,
Sitting cross-legged at the corner,
Eyes closed,
Talisman breath sinking into his sleeves.
—
The arena barrier sealed.
The White Profound swordsman sneered—
"You? Mid-tier?"
"Ready to die?"
His meridian breath exploded.
Full fate scar pressure slammed outward.
Spectators gasped.
Whispers surged—
"Ranked 85 on the Hidden Dragon List…"
"That kid's done for."
"Whole tier difference—he thinks he can win?"
Sect disciples murmured,
Eyes full of mockery.
Xiǎo Chén didn't respond.
His spear lifted.
Breath unchanged.
Not a ripple leaked.
Snickers rose—
"Coward.
Won't last thirty moves…"
On stage,
The swordsman grew bolder.
Pointed his blade—
"Kid, so you don't die ignorant—
My name is—"
Xiǎo Chén cut him off,
Spear tip twitching—
"I don't need to remember the name of a dead man."
The swordsman's face darkened.
He growled—
"Was going to give you a clean death."
"Now I've changed my mind."
"I'll make you beg for it—
On your knees, crying for me to kill you."
Xiǎo Chén replied coolly—
"Who begs whom—
We'll see."
The swordsman roared,
Breath surging again.
His blade swept low,
Flashing like a white line through the air.
Spectators saw only a blur—
White light closing within five steps of Xiǎo Chén.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
That sword was nearly a shadow.
But to Xiǎo Chén,
It felt half a beat too slow.
His gaze darkened.
A cold thought passed—
I've blocked the killing goddess's blade.
This?
Too slow to matter.
To outsiders,
He looked frozen—
Paralyzed.
Even Dù Jīn on the high platform broke into a cold sweat—
Why isn't he moving?
The sword's already there!
The swordsman sneered inwardly—
Bluffing.
Now he dies.
But just as the blade closed in—
Xiǎo Chén shifted.
The sword edge grazed his sleeve.
He sidestepped—
No counterattack.
Just a clean dodge.
The swordsman missed.
His heart jolted.
He stopped,
Reassessing.
Still, he forced calm—
Lucky dodge.
Won't happen again.
Before he could speak,
He lunged again.
Blade slashed and stabbed,
Pressing close.
Xiǎo Chén didn't strike.
But each time—
He moved just ahead of the attack,
Dodging with eerie precision.
After several exchanges,
Sweat beaded on the swordsman's brow.
A chill crept into his heart—
That gaze…
It's like he's staring at a corpse.
He pressed in again.
Then, frustrated,
Jumped back.
Both hands surged with power.
His sword hummed.
He growled—
"Let's see you dodge this!"
Lightning-fast,
The blade struck.
This time—
Xiǎo Chén moved.
His spear jolted.
He blocked with the shaft,
Twisted the edge aside,
Spun—
And slammed the butt of his spear
Into the swordsman's throat.
Thud!
A muffled groan.
Throat crushed.
Blood spat.
The swordsman staggered back three steps.
Dù Jīn was stunned.
The crowd gaped.
Just moments ago,
They thought this was a slaughter.
Now—
The tide had turned.
The swordsman clutched his throat.
For the first time,
Fear flickered in his eyes—
This kid's unnatural.
He sees through my sword…
How do I fight that?
He tried to speak—
But his throat was crushed.
No sound came.
A chill spread through his chest—
Can't even beg for mercy?
Xiǎo Chén stepped forward slowly.
Saw the panic in his eyes.
Smirked coldly—
This blood…
Is for Shī Tóngbǎi.
His spear twisted.
He lunged—
Swept.
Crack—crack—
Two sharp bone snaps.
Clear.
Piercing.
The swordsman's knees shattered.
He collapsed onto the arena floor.
His sword clattered away.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Dù Jīn nearly called a halt—
But then Xiǎo Chén turned his gaze.
Cold as a blade.
It said clearly—
Don't interfere.
Dù Jīn's heart trembled.
He remembered Dean Gǔ Líng's words about this boy.
He lowered his hand.
Stayed silent.
Xiǎo Chén looked down at the kneeling swordsman.
His voice was terrifyingly calm—
"How's that?"
"Weren't you going to make me beg for death?"
"Now look who's on the ground."
The swordsman trembled.
Eyes wide with terror.
Xiǎo Chén crouched.
Spoke quietly—
"I'll ask.
You nod or shake your head."
"If your answers satisfy me—
You might live."
The swordsman nodded frantically.
Clinging to his last hope.
Xiǎo Chén asked coldly—
"Did Bái Shī know about the attack on Shī Tóngbǎi?"
The swordsman shook his head violently.
Xiǎo Chén's gaze sharpened.
He pointed to the ground—
"Your hands still work."
"Write the name of the one who ordered it."
The swordsman's fingers trembled.
He dipped into his own blood—
And wrote, stroke by stroke:
[Cáo Jiànyú]
He looked up,
Eyes pleading.
Xiǎo Chén glanced at the name.
Murder flickered in his eyes.
Then he asked—
"Did you take part in the attack?"
The swordsman trembled,
Cold sweat pouring.
That night—
He'd struck hardest.
Cáo Jiànyú had promised him cultivation resources if the job was done.
He thought Shī Tóngbǎi was nothing.
Never imagined this boy would drive him into a death trap.
He opened his mouth,
Voice rasping—
But no words came.
His eyes filled with panic and desperate hope.
Xiǎo Chén slowly stood.
Looked down at him.
Voice cold—
"Your answer disappoints me."
"Next life—
Try not to be a villain."
Before the words finished,
The Dragon Soul Spear flashed.
Its tip pierced his chest.
Blood mist burst.
The swordsman's eyes widened—
Life ended.
The mist cleared.
Xiǎo Chén withdrew the spear,
Turned without a glance,
Walked toward the edge of the arena.
Dù Jīn rose on the high platform,
Voice shaken—
"First match—
Xiǎo Chén wins!"
Staff rushed onto the stage,
Removed the body.
Blood was wiped hastily.
The crowd's hearts still hadn't settled.
At the corner,
Xuán Chén opened his eyes.
Gaze fell on Xiǎo Chén's back.
Talisman breath still steady.
His thought whispered—
〖Your spiritual flow just now—why was it so turbulent?〗
Xiǎo Chén didn't stop walking.
Replied—
〖Brother, I've found the one behind it.〗
Xuán Chén's breath stirred—
〖Who?〗
Xiǎo Chén spoke low—
〖Cáo Jiànyú.
He wants to drag us down through this duel—
End it clean.
No trouble later.〗
Xuán Chén chuckled softly.
His thought cut like a blade—
〖Good.
Then in the second match—
We take that thread back.〗
Xiǎo Chén stepped down,
Stopped beside Shī Tóngbǎi.
His gaze fell heavy—
"I've reclaimed half your blood."
"The other half—
Xuán Chén will finish."
Shī Tóngbǎi's lips trembled.
Tears rolled down.
He nodded hard,
Too hoarse to speak.
Dù Jīn
called out from the high platform—
"Second match—
Both sides, step onto the arena!"
Xuán Chén rose slowly.
Talisman breath still steady.
He glanced at Shī Tóngbǎi—
Gave a slight nod.
Said nothing.
Then turned,
And walked toward the arena.
The moment his foot touched the blue stone,
Talisman breath surged beneath him like a serpent—
Sealing all retreat.
A flicker of cold light passed through his eyes—
Just as I wanted.
Shī Tóngbǎi watched his back.
His eyes burned.
He thought—
In this Ao Tiān Academy,
Only these two stand for me.
No matter what comes—
I'll guard this bond.
He clenched his fists,
Knuckles pale.
And swore silently—
If I ever have the chance—
I'll repay this a hundredfold.