"Brat! Could this be… a Domain!?"
On the spectator stands, Yan Shaozhe's eyes flickered with disbelief. Even Qian Duoduo was so stunned he leapt to his feet.
Staring at the immobilized Netherworld White Tiger, Yan Shaozhe murmured his suspicion under his breath. He never imagined something as rare as a Domain would appear in a freshman semifinal.
Domains were exceedingly scarce—even among Shrek's own instructors, none possessed one. All he could do was infer from ancient records.
But his theory was swiftly dismissed.
"No—this is merely sword intent."
Yan Shaozhe's whisper hadn't escaped Elder Xuan, whose profound cultivation made even the softest sound clear. The usually disheveled elder now looked unusually serious as he observed Arena One.
He took a swig of wine, then judged calmly, "But in the future… it might well become a true Domain."
Having made his point, Xuan Zi turned his gaze away. Arena One held no more surprises for him. Might as well pay closer attention to that Body Martial Soul in Arena Two.
Yet the faint crimson glint in his eyes betrayed his inner turmoil—far from the calm he projected.
Back in Arena One—
Chen Junting gazed indifferently at the colossal beast before him. His Seven Kill Sword trembled slightly in his hand. Instantly, the three pentagrams on the blade shot out, transforming into one yellow and two purple soul rings. As they pulsed with deep, resonant light, the killing intent around him condensed into something terrifyingly tangible—
Majestic. Ferocious. Icy.
Three distinct auras fused into one.
With two fingers raised, he gave a subtle upward flick.
Amid a crisp, ringing chime, the Seven Kill Sword floated into the air. The swirling killing intent coalesced into a white dragon coiling around the blade, radiating an unstoppable, razor-sharp pressure.
"ROOOAR—!"
The tiger's roar shook the heavens.
In its bloodthirsty eyes flashed humiliation and rage.
Two streaks of light crossed—the Netherworld White Tiger lunged, claws rending the air. At the same moment, the hovering Seven Kill Sword shot forward with a sound that was both dragon's cry and sword's song!
A flash of white—
The sword pierced straight through the Netherworld White Tiger's body.
Its claws halted less than an inch from Chen Junting's brow. Yet even then, Chen Junting remained utterly composed—as if he'd foreseen it all.
Slowly, he raised a hand and flicked a finger.
The once-mighty, awe-inspiring Netherworld White Tiger shattered on command. Dai Huabin and Zhu Lu crashed to the ground, utterly spent—too weak to stand, their minds overwhelmed by the chaotic killing intent, sinking into unconsciousness.
As for their injuries…
Well, those spoke for themselves.
Yan Shaozhe remained calm. Glancing at the impassive Xuan Zi and the tense Qian Duoduo—who was now fixated on Arena Two—he gave Du Weilun a subtle nod.
After all, Dai Huabin was the second son of the White Tiger Duke Manor.
Since they'd deliberately allowed the match to proceed unchecked, it was only right they provide treatment.
"Teacher Li, I'll leave this to you," Du Weilun said immediately, turning to a white-robed man nearby.
The man—addressed as "Teacher Li"—nodded. Seven soul rings rose from his feet: two yellow, two purple, three black—a clear testament to his formidable cultivation.
He floated into Arena One. Before the crowd's eyes, emerald-green energy bloomed from his palms. As his seventh black soul ring flared, his martial soul true body manifested: a towering Tree of Life. Its vast canopy shook, and countless jade-green leaves drifted down, settling gently onto the gravely wounded Dai Huabin and Zhu Lu.
Within moments, they regained consciousness. Their injuries weren't healed—only stabilized to prevent worsening.
As Dai Huabin struggled upright beneath the Tree of Life's glow, he saw Chen Junting standing calmly in place—and his face twisted in fury, features contorted with shame and hatred.
He had lost.
And he'd even used the Netherworld White Tiger.
Remembering his arrogant words before the match, his eyes burned with intensified malice, burying his humiliation beneath raw fury. Ignoring the referee announcing the result, he locked his gaze on Chen Junting.
Just as he turned to leave—
"You'll taste my defeat today… someday!"
But Chen Junting didn't even turn.
His back was all Dai Huabin received.
Clearly, Chen Junting hadn't considered him worth a second glance.
From the very beginning, his sole interest had been the ten-thousand-year-old inherited fusion skill—the Netherworld White Tiger.
…
"Boss Chen, where to next?" Qin Lan asked.
"Of course, Arena Two."
Chen Junting picked a good viewing spot and motioned for Qin Lan and Gao Ming to follow. He was curious—after being blindsided by Huo Yuhao's fusion skill, could Ning Tian's team still pull off a victory?
From their vantage point, the battle in Arena Two came into view. So far, Ning Tian's side seemed to be holding their own.
Due to Nanmen Yun'er and Wu Feng, Dugu Xin's poisons were effectively neutralized—and he was now locked in combat with Nanmen Yun'er.
As for the others—
Under Ning Tian's amplification, Wu Feng's power had surged dramatically!
Her dragon claws and dragonfire pressed Huo Yuhao and Wang Dong into retreat. Only Wang Dong's flight ability kept them from being overwhelmed by Wu Feng's enhanced might.
"Yuhao, we can't keep this up!" Wang Dong dodged a blast of flame, frustration flaring. ;When was the last time I was this humiliated?' His eyes hardened with resolve. "Let's use that move."
Huo Yuhao hesitated. They'd originally planned to save their fusion skill for a match against Senior Brother Junting. But if they lost here in the semifinals, what good was holding back?
Without another thought, he nodded in agreement.
But first—they needed the right opening.
Exchanging a glance, Wang Dong's sapphire wings blazed with golden sigils. His thousand-year soul ring flared, and a dazzling golden beam slammed into Wu Feng, sending her flying.
Seizing the chance—
Wang Dong grabbed Huo Yuhao and dashed toward Dugu Xin.
Wu Feng, stung by the hit, wouldn't let them slip away—especially since Ning Tian had ordered her before the match: 'Take out Huo Yuhao first.' She gave chase immediately.
Ning Tian's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
This reunion felt wrong. Earlier, Huo Yuhao's team had deliberately split up to relieve pressure on Dugu Xin from Wu Feng and Nanmen Yun'er's coordination.
But now…?
Her gaze fell on Huo Yuhao, gripped by Wang Dong. Something was off—and the anomaly clearly stemmed from Huo Yuhao, not Wang Dong.
"Feng, stay alert!" Ning Tian called out.
Behind her, white light flickered—as if something were about to emerge.
Wu Feng, hearing the warning, instantly heightened her guard. "Dragon's Wrath!" she cried.
Her second soul ring ignited. Fiery, chaotic energy surged—her dragonfire intensified, her half-body scales thickened, and her right hand fully transformed into a draconic claw.
Unnoticed, she, Nanmen Yun'er, and even Ning Tian had all aligned—nearly in a straight line.
A chill ran down Ning Tian's spine.
At that very moment—
"They're going to lose," Chen Junting said quietly from the stands, shaking his head with faint regret. Despite Ning Tian's vigilance, Huo Yuhao and Wang Dong's calculated setup had already sealed the outcome. The flaw in their first fusion skill—requiring opponents to be aligned—had just been perfectly exploited.
Just as Qin Lan and Gao Ming exchanged confused glances—
In Arena Two, Wang Dong and Huo Yuhao suddenly embraced.
A strange, radiant light—blue and gold intertwined—erupted from their bodies.
The Radiant Goddess Butterfly slowly merged into the Spirit Eyes. In an instant, brilliant blue-gold flames blazed across the Spirit Eyes' silhouette—and then, a terrifying beam of dual-colored energy shot forth.
Like a streak of iridescent lightning, it flew true, leaving behind a trail of dazzling brilliance and golden afterglow—a path fit for legends.
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