On the ground, Ling Feng stretched his arms over his head until his shoulders popped, then let them fall with a satisfied sigh. The stone beneath his boots was still hot from heavenly lightning, hairline cracks spiderwebbing across the training field, yet he lounged there like a man who had just finished a good meal instead of watching two of his women wrestle with Heaven itself.
Above him, the last traces of tribulation clouds slowly scattered.
Two auras still lingered where the calamity had struck—vast, sharp, and utterly transformed. They weren't just Enlightened Beings anymore. They were Eternal Prestige monsters who had forced Heaven to bow its head.
And, incidentally, they were his women.
Ling Feng grinned up at them.
"See?" he called lazily. "Easy."
Chen Baojiao hovered in the air for a breath longer, hair still crackling faintly with leftover lightning. The dense, surging power of her Tyrannical Valley Immortal Spring Physique boiled beneath her skin, newly reforged under the hammer of tribulation.
"Easy, he says," she muttered, fighting the urge to laugh and cough blood at the same time. "Heaven was just trying to tear my bones apart…"
The scars of the calamity hadn't yet faded from her meridians. Each Immortal Spring inside her body roared, deeper and broader than before—springs that could swallow the force of mountains and return it doubled as a ferocious counterattack.
Beside her, Li Shuangyan floated with her usual quiet poise. Her icy robes fluttered in the fading wind, Pure Jade Physique radiating a clear, crystalline light. The aura of Eternal Prestige wrapped around her like an endless, pale tide, vast yet controlled; every thread of power ran smooth as warm jade under water.
Her gaze, however, drifted down despite herself.
Ling Feng smiled up at her—simple, direct, unhurried.
For a moment, the terrifying aura of an Eternal Prestige Enlightened Being softened around her like fog in the morning sun. Her Dao Heart, tempered in countless storms, rippled once.
He lifted a hand and made a little "come down" motion with his fingers.
She hesitated, then exhaled slowly and allowed her power to calm. The two Eternal Prestige auras descended toward the ground, tribulation clouds finally dispersing.
The moment Heaven's pressure vanished completely, the training grounds of the Grand Era Hall fell utterly silent.
Disciples from every era hall—Idle Era, Zenith Era, Sacred Era, Emperor Era—stood in frozen rows around the shattered field. In any other age, two Eternal Prestige Enlightened Beings emerging from the same sect would shake the entire Hundred Cities. Today, for this academy, that should have been the main story.
Instead, every gaze was pulled toward the young man in plain robes at the center.
Ling Feng turned his head.
His eyes slid through the crowd, past elders with unreadable expressions, past jealous geniuses biting their lips, until they found two familiar figures standing not far away.
Chi Xiaodie and Bing Yuxia.
Chi Xiaodie's royal robes still carried the dignity of Lion's Roar. For the last while, she had maintained the posture of an imperial princess watching the tribulation with composed concern.
That posture lasted right up until Ling Feng raised his hand and tapped his wrist—where an invisible watch would be.
He tilted his head and smiled.
"Bet's done," he said lightly, voice carrying through the murmuring field as if he were just chatting in a marketplace. "I'll take my days later."
A dozen disciples nearby blinked, then remembered. The princess of Lion's Roar and the young lord of Cleansing Incense had made a little wager before—about whether he could raise his women to trample the so-called geniuses of this era. The "days" he mentioned… were promises she had reluctantly put on the table.
Chi Xiaodie's composure cracked for a heartbeat.
Her ears flushed a sharp red. She quickly turned her face away, but the line of her lips betrayed her.
"…This princess… will keep her word," she whispered, barely loud enough for those closest to hear.
Bing Yuxia stood with her usual air of aloof pride, fan half-closed in her hand. The wind caught her blue robes; sunlight traced her delicate profile. Her eyes though, bright and sharp as cold stars, never left Ling Feng.
"This young master did say he wasn't afraid of stupid bets," she muttered behind her fan, tone half-mocking. Yet her gaze shone with a light that hadn't been there before—part challenge, part interest.
Ling Feng chuckled, satisfied.
"Good girl," he said under his breath, eyes dancing. "And good future troublemaker," he added, flicking a glance at Bing Yuxia.
He was just about to turn toward Mei Suyao—standing like a painting in distant calm, the immortal radiance around her faintly withdrawn after watching the tribulation—already forming a casual invitation in his mind, something halfway between flirting and recruitment.
He didn't get the chance.
A roar split the sky.
"Ling Feng!"
The shout was drenched in humiliation and killing intent. It rolled in from the direction of the Dragon Arbiter Stage like a crashing wave, wrapped in golden light and demonic shadows both.
The disciples' mood flipped in an instant.
Heads snapped toward the sound.
Two figures soared over the academy roofs, banners and attendants trailing behind them like the tails of comets.
Ba Xia.
Hu Yue.
The first prince of the Furious Immortal Saint Country; Lower Tyrannical Immortal Physique swirling around him, blood energy surging like a furious sea. The prime descendant of Tiger's Howl School; demonic tiger shadow roaring behind his back, eyes cold and predatory.
Both were already at astonishing heights for this era. In the records of the Hundred Cities, their names stood near the top of every list of geniuses—young men whom great powers expected to shoulder a country's fate.
In another timeline, they should have been the center of attention today.
But after watching two women ascend to Eternal Prestige under the guidance of a "mere" Named Hero…
Today, they only felt late.
They landed at the edge of the training grounds, stone tiles cracking beneath the weight of their auras. Heavenly Dao Academy disciples instinctively moved aside, a path opening in the crowd without anyone speaking.
Furious Immortal Saint Country's banners billowed in a wash of blood-gold light. Tiger's Howl School's demonic tiger standard snapped in the wind, emitting the illusory roar of an ancient beast. Elders from both powers floated in the distance, cloaked in heavy clouds of energy, watching without intervening.
Ba Xia's eyes were bloodshot.
He stared at Ling Feng as if he wanted to tear the young man out of time itself.
"You killed Sima Longyun," he snarled. "You humiliated our Saint Country. You made a laughingstock of Huangfu Feng and caused Gui Fushu to die under everyone's eyes. Today, either you die, or I—"
"Sit down," Ling Feng said.
The words were not loud.
They didn't need to be.
His gaze met Ba Xia's.
For a moment, chaos surged in Ling Feng's eyes—something ancient and lawless, a weight that did not belong to a simple Named Hero. It pressed directly on Ba Xia's Fate Palaces, bypassing ordinary defenses as if they were made of paper.
Ba Xia's body locked.
His knees nearly buckled.
Lower Tyrannical Immortal Physique roared inside his frame, golden bones blazing, blood like burning rivers… yet when they crashed against that invisible, alien force, it was like charging headfirst into an unseen mountain. His muscles strained. Veins popped beneath his skin. Teeth ground together hard enough to draw blood.
But his body refused to move forward.
"…You—" he gasped, face flushing an ugly red.
On the other side, Hu Yue's tiger aura exploded.
"Don't be careless, Brother Ba—" he began, stepping up, demonic shadow rearing up behind him, claws outstretched as if to tear the sky.
Ling Feng glanced his way.
"Sit," he repeated, voice light as a breeze.
The word dropped into Hu Yue's sea of consciousness like a boulder. For someone whose entire Dao was fierce aggression, the sensation of his body freezing mid-step was almost worse than pain. Demonic blood boiled, tiger shadow roared; fate palaces trembled; yet the command, carried on Chaos Intent, sank into those structures and pinned them.
His killing intent flickered.
His steps stopped.
The onlookers' expressions changed.
They could not see the intricate Dao arts Ling Feng was using—how Chaos Force twisted the threads of law around Ba Xia and Hu Yue, how their fate palaces were suppressed by a weight that did not belong to this heaven. They only saw two top geniuses of the Hundred Cities halt like puppets with tangled strings.
Murmurs burst out.
"Ba Xia… can't move?"
"Even Hu Yue… what kind of technique is that?"
Ling Feng sighed.
"You two are loud," he said lazily. "And annoying. But you can keep your barking for later."
He jerked his chin toward the two women who had just descended, their auras still half-wrapped in the fading residue of Heaven's will.
"The people who are going to kill you," he added, tone almost conversational, "just finished their warm-up."
Ba Xia and Hu Yue's faces twisted.
"You think two freshly advanced Enlightened Beings can—" Ba Xia started, voice cracking from the strain of resisting that invisible pressure.
"En?" Chen Baojiao rolled her shoulders, the faint ache of tribulation still singing in her newly reforged bones. She cracked her knuckles one by one, smile turning sharp. "He's already offering himself? That's rare. People usually need more encouragement."
Li Shuangyan's gaze cooled, turning from soft jade to cold steel. Her killing intent was not loud. It flowed quiet and clear, like a blade laid gently along a chopping block.
Ling Feng lifted a hand.
"Dragon Arbiter Stage," he said. "If we're going to kill you, we may as well do it properly."
Ba Xia and Hu Yue's pupils shrank.
They had elders and hidden trump cards ready to intervene if the tide turned. At worst, they might lose some face; at best, they would cripple this upstart and restore their countries' prestige.
Now, with one simple sentence, Ling Feng had dragged them toward a place where excuses and half-measures could not exist.
…
The crowd surged after them like a tidal wave.
From every hall of the academy, from every corner of the Grand Era Hall's training grounds, disciples streamed toward the Dragon Arbiter Stage, flying, running, or riding treasures. Even elders of various halls took to the air, wanting a clear vantage point.
Ba Xia and Hu Yue landed on one side, entourages fanning out behind them. Furious Immortal Saint Country elders stood with dark faces, their robes adorned with the mark of the Lower Tyrannical Immortal Physique. Tiger's Howl School's elders radiated demonic aura, tiger roars echoing faintly whenever they shifted.
Opposite them, Ling Feng chose not to step onto the stone.
He remained at the boundary, hands in his sleeves, posture relaxed as if watching a street performance in Ancient Sky City.
Instead, it was his women who moved.
"Baojiao," he said, eyes never leaving the two prime descendants. "You've been itching for a real fight."
Baojiao tilted her head, lips curling in a feral grin. "You know me," she replied simply.
"Hu Yue is yours," Ling Feng continued. "Don't go lightly."
Her eyes sparkled. "I wasn't planning to."
He turned to the woman at his other side.
"Yan," he said softly. "Ba Xia thinks the world owes him. Help him understand it doesn't."
Li Shuangyan's lashes lowered in a brief, respectful acknowledgment. "As you wish, Young Noble."
Together, the two women rose onto the Dragon Arbiter Stage.
Gasps rippled across the stands.
"Two Eternal Prestige… against Ba Xia and Hu Yue…?"
"This is insane… this is overturning the heavens…"
"Ba Xia and Hu Yue are the pride of this generation. Even if the women reached Enlightened Being, Eternal Prestige or not… isn't this too arrogant?"
Some eyes burned with anticipation. Others with envy, spite, or schadenfreude. But no one could look away.
Ba Xia laughed, harsh and angry, the corners of his lips twitching.
"Even if you achieved Enlightened Being," he said, voice cold, "you are still just chicks. This prince has stood at the apex of geniuses long before you even understood what cultivation meant."
"Talk less," Li Shuangyan said.
Her voice was calm. It cut through his words cleanly, like a clear sword light through rotting wood.
She looked at both men, gaze lingering for a fraction on Hu Yue, then returning to Ba Xia.
"Life-and-death duel," she declared, each word steady. "No backing down. No early mercy."
Chen Baojiao's eyes shone with savage delight.
"Heh," she added, flashing a grin that showed a hint of white teeth. "You heard her. If you regret it later, cry to your ancestors, not us."
Hu Yue's tiger eyes narrowed dangerously.
He looked at Chen Baojiao's relaxed stance—the lazy way she stood with one hip slightly cocked, as if this life-and-death stage were nothing more than a training field—and his pride snarled.
"Fine," he spat. "Life-and-death."
Ba Xia hesitated half a breath. His eyes flicked upward, seeking the faces of the elders from Furious Immortal Saint Country in the stands. He saw grim expressions, proud chins, a father's gaze hidden behind a veil of light. He also felt the weight of countless eyes—the geniuses of the Hundred Cities, the elders of great sects—all waiting to see if the prince of Furious Immortal would flinch.
Pride, fury, and the suffocating knowledge that he had already lost once at this man's hands on the academy's day of entrance formed an invisible cage around his heart.
"Life-and-death," he echoed at last, voice like ice. "So decided."
The Dragon Arbiter Stage's formations flared.
Light rose from the edges of the stage, forming an invisible wall that isolated the arena from the outside world. A bell rang, low and ominous, reverberating through the academy like the heartbeat of an ancient beast.
The duel began.
…
Hu Yue moved first.
It would be an insult to his tiger blood to wait.
Demonic qi erupted from his body in an explosive wave. Behind him, the phantom of a ferocious tiger reared up, fangs bared wide, claws like scythes that could reap lives by the dozen. His aura locked tightly onto Chen Baojiao, distorting the air around her.
The stone beneath his feet cracked with each step.
With a roar that shook the clouds, Hu Yue leaped.
His body blurred into a streak of black-and-gold light. Claws of condensed Dao—each trace containing the ferocity of Tiger's Howl's inherited techniques—ripped down toward Baojiao, aiming to tear her apart from crown to heel.
The air screamed.
The stage shuddered.
Chen Baojiao's smile widened.
"Good," she said softly. "Come."
Her Immortal Springs surged to life.
Water-type spirit energy rose from every inch of her flesh, but it did not explode chaotically as it once might have.
Qi condensed around her fists into invisible, terrifying density. Her circulation pattern turned, not in a wild torrent, but in tight, controlled spirals—like storm clouds compressed into the size of a bowl.
At the last moment, Chen Baojiao didn't dodge aside in a graceful arc like a typical Heaven's proud daughter.
She shifted one step. Just one.
It was enough to let the main force of the tiger phantom slip past her shoulder, its claws scraping the air where her head had been a heartbeat before.
Her counterpunch drove forward, short and brutal, straight into the phantom tiger's neck.
A muffled boom sounded.
The tiger shadow didn't explode into flashy light. It shattered like brittle glass, breaking into fragments of demonic qi that were immediately sucked into her Immortal Springs, where they churned, refined, and re-emerged as more of her own power.
Hu Yue's eyes widened.
His demonic heritage had always given him an advantage. Tiger's Howl School's complete inheritance, combined with his innate talent, had let him crush most peers with simple, overwhelming aggression. Against an ordinary Enlightened Being—even one with good physique foundations—the first exchange would have left them vomiting blood.
Against Chen Baojiao, whose physique had just been reforged by heavenly lightning and tempered by Chaos…
It was like trying to chew through an iron mountain with baby teeth.
"Hateful—!" he snarled, forcing his qi to surge again.
Demonic aura drew inward, compressing. The tiger shadow behind him shrank, not in weakness, but in focus—stripes of Dao coiling tighter around his limbs, aiming not just to rip flesh, but to tear at her Fate Palaces directly.
His claws changed. The raw ferocity turned razor-fine, each strike aiming at precise trajectories that would disrupt her internal circulation and damage the very foundation of her springs.
Chen Baojiao laughed aloud.
"You think you're the only one who can bite?" she asked.
She stepped forward to meet him.
From the stands, what followed looked like madness.
Their bodies collided again and again in the center of the stage—no graceful dance, no polite exchange of distant techniques. Fists, elbows, knees, and shoulders smashed against each other; afterimages blurred; shockwaves cracked the surface of the Dragon Arbiter Stage, forcing the arrays underneath to hum in warning.
Every time Hu Yue tried to leverage his demonic speed and explosive power, Chen Baojiao met him at the worst possible angle. When his fist came in at full force, her shoulder slammed into his elbow. When his claw descended from above, her knee cut through his center of gravity. Every impact he landed was caught, swallowed by the Immortal Springs inside her, then spat back at him doubled.
His bones started to creak.
Muscles tore beneath his skin, only to be forced to repair themselves with demonic blood. His lungs burned as the compressed, storm-like circulation inside her aura made his qi stumble whenever it brushed against hers.
"How—" he rasped between exchanges, teeth clenched. "You just entered Enlightened Being—"
"Then you should've killed me yesterday," Chen Baojiao said cheerfully.
Hu Yue's heart lurched.
He previously dismissed this woman as another beauty orbiting a lucky brat. The thought of taking her as a concubine had briefly crossed his mind. At that time, he had decided there was no need to act; after all, the world moved at his pace.
Now he realized that a single day's hesitation had turned his "potential concubine" into an executioner.
She caught his wrist mid-swipe.
Grip like iron.
He tried to tear free; her fingers tightened, and he felt tendons strain dangerously.
"Come here," she said.
She yanked him off-balance.
Their foreheads slammed together with a sickening crack that echoed across the arena.
Blood sprayed from Hu Yue's nose. For a breath, his vision turned white.
The Tiger's Howl disciples in the stands all flinched as if the headbutt had landed on them instead.
Before he could regain focus, something hammered into his chest.
Her fist—coated in condensed spring-qi and infused with Chaos—struck right between his Fate Palaces. The force didn't just break bone; it sank deeper, hitting the nexus where his cultivation path and tiger bloodline intertwined.
Hu Yue felt something break.
Not just ribs.
Something fundamental.
"Your future…" Chen Baojiao said almost conversationally, even as she used her grip on his wrist to lift him by the throat with her other hand. His toes scraped uselessly across the stone. "You were going to ride on a marriage alliance, right? On other people's plans. On borrowed backing."
She squeezed.
His fingers clawed at her arm, demonic qi flaring wildly, then sputtering as the Tyrannical Valley Immortal Springs inside her calmly drank in his struggling power and converted it into her own strength.
"Too bad," she murmured, smile sharpening. "You came barking at the wrong door."
Bones crunched audibly beneath her fingers.
Hu Yue's eyes bulged. Air stuck in his throat. Pride, fury, unwillingness—all choked off together.
On the Tiger's Howl side, students' faces turned ashen.
"Hu Yue!!"
"Prime descendant—!"
But the arrays of the Dragon Arbiter Stage remained quiet. They did not care about status. They only cared that this was a life-and-death duel.
…
On the other side of the stage, Ba Xia's expression twisted as he heard the bones cracking.
But he could not go to help.
He had his own storm to drown in.
Li Shuangyan stood in front of him like a jade statue brought to life.
Her aura was not loud. No violent flares, no demonic shadows.
It was inevitable.
Ba Xia's Lower Tyrannical Immortal Physique roared in full. His blood became molten metal, his bones turned into golden pillars. Each breath pulled in the essence of heaven and earth; each exhale carried a faint echo of a furious roar. Physique law circled his body in thick bands of light, stacked layer upon layer—defense and offense intertwined.
He stepped forward and punched.
It was not a crude blow. Even his fists carried the heritage of the Furious Immortal Saint Country. The force crashed down like collapsing mountains, each knuckle carrying hundreds of thousands of jin of power.
Li Shuangyan met his fist with an open palm.
She did not clash head-on.
She received.
His power struck her hand—and flowed.
It traveled across the surface of her Pure Jade Physique like water on glass, slipping along the pathways Ling Feng had painstakingly opened within her. It entered her Fate Palaces, where the Chaos-enhanced refinements made her internal structure both resilient and flexible, then slid sideways into the ground.
To Ba Xia, it felt like punching moving water that possessed the density of iron.
"What trick is this?!" he snarled, stepping in with greater fury.
He unleashed a sweeping strike that ricocheted across multiple Dao points at once, trying to drown her in a storm of continuous blows, denying her the chance to redirect.
Li Shuangyan's eyes narrowed, calm as a winter lake.
Before Ling Feng interfered with her path, her Pure Jade Physique had focused on purity and refinement—purifying external energy, polishing her own Essence. Now, under his guidance, that purity had gained direction and edge. Energy no longer merely flowed through her; it obeyed.
Her hands shifted.
His next punch landed squarely in her palm.
The sound rang like a bell.
Pain like lightning shot up his arm. Ba Xia's eyes widened.
His wrist bones snapped.
"…!"
He hissed as the bones cracked, almost hearing the sound over the roar of his blood.
He tried to yank his arm back. Her fingers closed around his fist like an iron clamp. For a single heartbeat, the proud prince understood what it meant to be completely controlled.
"You call yourself 'Tyrannical,'" Li Shuangyan said softly, voice low enough that only he could hear. "Yet you only know how to lean on your father's shadow. On your sect. On your title as prince. When these are stripped away… what remains?"
She let go.
Then she stepped in.
Her palm struck his chest—not with a flashy explosion of light, but with perfect precision. It slipped between the layers of his defensive Dao, bypassing the majority of his physique's fortification, and landed directly on the key node that stabilized his Lower Tyrannical Immortal Physique Law.
His immortal physique shuddered.
For the first time since cultivating that supreme law, Ba Xia felt its circulation stumble.
Impossible.
He roared in denial, forcing it to spin harder. Divine rings in his life wheel buzzed, Fate Palaces thundering as he poured every last shred of foundation into stabilizing his path. His ribs creaked but held as the physique brute-forced the impact aside.
Li Shuangyan's gaze remained level.
"If you had met my Young Noble," she said, tone still mild, "he would have shattered you with one hand. Consider it mercy that you are facing me instead."
Her next strikes did not give him time to respond.
She glided around his savage swings, every step landing exactly where it needed to. Her palms, fingers, and the side of her hand tapped along his body—not at random, but at points she had spent nights studying under Ling Feng's explanation, learning how his Chaos-enhanced insight saw through physique laws.
Each touch landed on a node that disrupted the circulation of the Tyrannical Physique.
His supposedly unstoppable tide of power turned sluggish.
Attacks that once flowed smoothly now caught on invisible rocks, tripping over themselves. His movements grew heavier, less precise. Every time he tried to force more power, another subtle palm from her cut off that flow, sending a jolt of pain through his meridians.
Cold sweat broke out down his back.
If this continued, it wouldn't just be his pride that shattered.
It would be the very foundation of his cultivation.
"Enough!" he shouted hoarsely. "If you cripple my Immortal Physique, my father will—"
Li Shuangyan's eyes turned harder than jade.
"Your father's choices are his own," she said. "Your sins are yours."
Her final strike was ruthless.
She drove her palm into his sternum.
Jade light exploded outward, not diffusely, but as countless thin, invisible threads. They sank into his Fate Palaces, bypassing outer defenses to detonate at the intersections where his Lower Tyrannical law intertwined.
Something shattered.
Not only the physical structure of the physique, but the perfect confidence he had possessed in his path.
Ba Xia coughed blood, knees smashing into the stone hard enough to crack it.
His Lower Tyrannical Immortal Physique didn't vanish—it fractured. What had once been a smooth, roaring river now carried fractures and whirlpools; every future circulation would run into these cracks.
Repairable? Perhaps.
But the path ahead would forever be shorter and steeper.
He lifted his head with effort, sweat and blood mixing on his face. His vision blurred, but he could still see Li Shuangyan standing over him—tall, elegant, robes untouched by dust.
"You…" he rasped. "You dare…"
She looked down at him without expression.
"You reached your hands into Lion's Roar," she said quietly, "and tried to chain a princess. Today is cheap."
She raised her hand.
…
On the other side of the stage, Hu Yue dangled from Chen Baojiao's bloody grip, legs limp, breath a ragged rattle.
Her fingers were still clamped around his throat. Beneath her grip, the demonic tiger bloodline that had once roared so fiercely was now reduced to a sickly hiss.
She could feel his pulsing Fate Palaces, each one on the verge of collapse. One more squeeze, one twist, and the proud prime descendant of Tiger's Howl would become just another corpse on the Dragon Arbiter Stage.
A profound hush fell over the arena.
The arrays around the stage thrummed quietly, recognizing that the duel still continued. Outside, elders' faces twisted between rage and dread. Inside, the four combatants stood at the edge of a final line.
Everyone could feel it.
If no one interfered now—
Ba Xia and Hu Yue were going to die.