Now standing on the platform, facing one another beneath the glow of twin moons, were two children that did not look ordinary.
Yu Xuan — the youngest son of the Patriarch, dressed in ceremonial black-and-white robes, a calm glint in his eyes.
And opposite him, Ming Tianmei — a vision of grace and mystery, her long hair fluttering slightly with the wind.
Though she was older by a few years, they stood as equals — two prodigies about to clash.
The crowd stirred with anticipation.
They had seen Tianmei fight once — briefly, elegantly, effortlessly — but this was their chance to truly witness her strength.
Yu Xuan, meanwhile, had unknowingly become something of a spectacle. Sword Intent. Calm demeanor. Powerful background. At this point, everyone was expecting... something.
And they were about to get more than they bargained for.
Yu Xuan glanced at Ming Tianmei.
’She’s beautiful,’ he thought.
Come to think of it... everyone he had met in this world — even common disciples — looked like they had walked off a cultivation-themed fashion show.
Clear skin, long lashes, perfectly sculpted faces. Even people who claimed to be "average" looked like A-list celebrities from his past life.
Was it the effect of spiritual energy?
Or did everyone just wear makeup constantly?
He had once tried to ask his mother about it, but instinctively stopped halfway. He wasn’t sure why.
Some things were better left unanswered.
As he continued staring at Tianmei, a black gold window suddenly popped into his vision.
[Skill Fated Encounter is Strongly Activated]
Yu Xuan blinked. "...What."
Before he could react, everything changed.
To the outside world, he simply looked stunned — maybe mesmerized by Ming Tianmei’s beauty.
Yu Xuan found himself standing in a completely different world.
And it was horrifying.
All around him, blood soaked the earth. Corpses lay strewn in twisted heaps. The sky was dark red, and a blood mist clung to the air like a curse.
Monstrous figures, some tall and terrifying, some small and grotesque, lay broken and lifeless.
Some corpses were beautiful — far too beautiful — others were twisted and asymmetric, eyes growing from elbows, mouths on knees. The grotesque and divine were intermingled in death.
He floated forward, helpless, unable to look away.
Two figures at the center of the carnage.
One was spotless — a man in flowing white robes. Not a drop of blood stained him, but his sword was soaked red. His presence was calm... but suffocating.
It looked humanoid at first, but from its neck stretched countless arms — sheets of flesh that gradually transformed into twisted hands. Each hand bore an eye, or a mouth, some both.
From those mouths came a chorus of shrieking voices:
"WHY?! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?! ALL I DID WAS HAVE AN EYE AT A HUMAN GIRL! ARE YOU TRYING TO PROVOKE AN INTER-REALM WAR?!"
The white-robed man simply stepped forward.
His voice was quiet, almost kind.
"Why...? Haa. You shouldn’t have laid your filthy eyes on her. Even your existence disgusts me. But daring to desire her? You’ve clearly tired of living."
In the next instant, the human figure vanished and reappeared — fingers wrapped around the creature’s distorted neck.
"WAIT! STOP! IF YOU KILL ME, YOU’LL PROVOKE— AHHHHHHHHH!!"
White flames erupted from the man’s hand and engulfed the creature whole.
As it burned, it wailed its final threat:
"THIS ISN’T OVER! NEXT TIME I WILL INVADE YOUR WORLD, I’LL—"
"Then I’ll be waiting," the man said, with a small smile.
Then he paused... as if sensing something.
Then, slowly, he turned his head toward Yu Xuan.
Yu Xuan’s heart stopped.
He couldn’t see the face clearly.
But what he saw chilled him to the core.
The man’s right eye glowed with blinding white light — divine and pure.
His left eye was darker than darkness — deeper than any void, as if it devoured light itself.
Then the world collapsed.
The battlefield, the corpses, the man — all shattered like glass.
He was back on the dueling platform, shaking slightly.
He exhaled hard, trying to steady himself.
’What the hell was that?!’
No one around him had noticed anything unusual.
From their view, he had simply paused a little longer than usual while admiring his opponent.
Lu’s voice called out again.
"Are both participants ready?"
Ming Tianmei nodded, graceful as always.
Yu Xuan, still regaining composure, nodded a moment later.
’Tournament first,’ he told himself.
"Then—let the match... begin!"
The crowd leaned forward.
The screens zoomed in.
Yu Xuan steadied his grip on his sword, eyes narrowed.
And across from him, Ming Tianmei lowered into a stance so fluid it looked like she was about to dance across the surface of a lake.
And now — no more waiting.
The battle had begun.