The roar of flames filled his ears, drowning out the excited cheers of the crowd. Dodging Biyu’s ruthless assault by a hair’s breadth, Jin Shu racked his brain—and finally came up with a way to escape.
A sudden gale swept across the arena, whipping the flames into a frenzy before drawing them into a spiraling wind. The currents curled inward, forming a small flaming tornado.
With the flames redirected, he had a clear path to retreat. But instead of fleeing, he twisted the wind and fire back toward Biyu. As the vortex surged forward, he swapped to his pellet gun and unleashed a volley of small projectiles just as she began backing away.
Biyu wasn’t afraid of the flames—they were her own, after all. But with the added force of the swirling wind amplifying their fury, even she couldn’t handle them head-on. Forced to retreat, she barely had time to react before the pellets began to rain down. They came fast and hard, leaving her no opening to counterattack.
Knowing the explosive pellets couldn’t be allowed to hit her, she deflected them with bursts of qi, each one precise and measured.
Jin Shu didn’t relent. He alternated between his pellet gun and shotgun, aiming to disrupt her rhythm. It worked. A single pellet slipped past her guard, striking her side. The impact didn’t hurt much—but the explosion it triggered sent her stumbling straight into the flaming tornado.
“Oh no! Fan Biyu’s been hit!”
“That tornado’s serious—if I fell in, I’d be toast!”
“You? We all would. But Senior Sister Fan won’t!”
That last girl was right.
The tornado erupted from within, three small phoenixes bursting out, tearing the vortex apart. As the flames fell away, Biyu rose from the center, cloaked in a half-armor of blazing phoenix feathers.
“You’ll need something stronger than that to take me down,” she said.
Jin Shu scratched his neck. “Not sure I’ve got anything stronger… but I’ll just have to try.”
Wind surged behind him, whipping his hair into wild strands. The sound of rushing water followed—though no water could be seen. A dense white fog began to spread across the arena, curling around their ankles before quickly rising to obscure them from view.
To the spectators, only flashes of red light and the vague shapes of moving shadows remained.
Then the shadows danced across the stage, accompanied by the sharp crack of gunfire, the cries of phoenixes, and the echo of explosions—all punctuated by the constant flicker of lights through the mist.
Inside the fog, Jin Shu relied on his senses to track Biyu, while she darted through the mist and sent her phoenixes to attack blindly. If she were in the Adept Realm, his tactic would have been useless—her divine senses would easily outmatch his faint connection to the wind. But she wasn’t there yet. And in this misty battlefield, he held the advantage.
He could feel his shots brushing past her as she twisted and dodged, her phoenixes burning away at the fog even as he summoned more to take its place. It became a relentless tug-of-war—fire against mist, noise against silence.
But it wouldn’t last forever. He just needed one clean shot. Or... no shot at all.
He fired two rounds—bait—and then stepped backward into the ripple that had finally formed behind him. It had taken much longer than usual to manifest, the dense environment interfering with its formation. But within the fog, the ripple was completely invisible, blending into the mist like it was born from it.
He emerged from a second ripple directly behind Biyu, silent and swift. One arm wrapped over her shoulder, the other pressing a cold blade to her throat.
“I win,” he whispered.
Biyu huffed. “Those ripples of yours are really unfair.”
“Nothing I can do. I’m way too weak compared to you and the others.” He shrugged.
As they spoke, the fog slowly lifted, revealing them to the stunned spectators.
“No way! Fan Biyu lost?!”
“It must’ve been a sneak attack!”
“Jin Shu’s movement technique is too overpowered!”
Biyu glanced back at him. “Looks like I owe you now.”
Jin Shu withdrew his knife. “I’ll come collect after the tournament,” he said with a smirk.
“Just make sure you’re not looking when you do,” she whispered, lips twitching with amusement.
He nodded, then tugged her gently as they stepped through a ripple and vanished.
Once they were gone, Di Ti appeared onstage again, her flowing ribbons drooping with what looked like embarrassment.
“I’m sorry again for mixing up the match order,” she said, bowing toward the crowd. “Now, for the final match of the fourth round, please welcome Tian Li and Zhu Ren.”
The audience, noticing her crestfallen expression, rallied at once.
“It’s not your fault, Elder Di!”
“Everyone makes mistakes now and then!”
“I liked it better this way! Let’s keep the matches randomized!”
“Yeah! Keep surprising us!”
“Well... wasn’t it technically randomized before, but then sorted?”
“Sure, but we want full chaos!”
Di Ti raised her hand, a smile tugging at her lips. “If that’s what you want. The next rounds will be less structured. But first, let’s finish this one.”
As she spoke, Tian Li and Zhu Ren stepped onto the stage. Neither girl had much to say—just a polite bow exchanged between them.
“Are you both ready?” Elder Li asked.
They nodded in unison.
“Then you may begin!”
A flurry of daggers exploded from Zhu Ren, over a hundred blades filling the arena in an instant. But before she could activate her Dagger Substitute Technique, a thin embroidery needle appeared between her feet, landing with barely a sound.
She glanced at it briefly, then tried to move—only to find she couldn’t. Not even a twitch. Her limbs refused to respond, and her qi felt locked in place.
Tian Li walked toward her with calm, measured steps.
“What’s going on? Why is Zhu Ren just standing there?”
“Senior Sister Tian Li summoned her spirit a moment ago, but it was only for a flash.”
“Her spirit is between Zhu Ren’s legs... is that what’s causing this?”
The audience murmured, trying to make sense of what they were seeing as Tian Li closed the distance. She stopped in front of Zhu Ren, placed a hand gently on her shoulder, and turned to Elder Li.
“She can’t move. I believe that counts as my victory, no?”
Elder Li nodded. “Winner, Tian Li.”
The arena buzzed with confusion.
“Wha… what just happened?!”
“She just touched her! How is that a win?”
“I’m telling you—it was Senior Sister Tian Li’s spirit!”
Tian Li withdrew her spirit from the shadow beneath Zhu Ren’s feet, bowed respectfully to both Elder Li and her opponent, then stepped off the stage with poise, offering Di Ti a gentle smile and a small wave as they passed.
“And with that quick match, we’re moving on to the fifth round,” Di Ti announced cheerfully as the crowd settled. “Now with randomized matchups!”
She raised a hand to stop Zhu Ren, who had begun to walk offstage.
“The next match will be Fan Biyu versus Zhu Ren!”
“Ooh! Back-to-back fights!”
“Isn’t that a little unfair?”
“How? Zhu Ren didn’t use any qi in the last match.”
“True… I guess she’s still fresh.”
“And besides, everyone’s been forced to bring out their trump cards earlier. Most are probably still recovering their qi from previous fights.”
“Yeah… the only one who hasn’t shown any signs of exhaustion is Senior Sister Liu Hua.”
“Her and maybe Li Xue—she forfeited her last match, so she’s had the most time to rest.”
While the crowd discussed, Biyu stepped onto the stage. Like before, the girls exchanged a silent bow. Fatigue was beginning to set in—not just for them, but for all the remaining fighters.
All except Liu Hua, who had the leisure to nap between matches. And to some extent, Li Xue, who remained ever-hyper and brimming with energy.
“If you are both ready, you may begin!”
This time, Zhu Ren didn’t hesitate. She immediately activated her technique, hurling a dagger skyward and vanishing in its place, while scattering the rest throughout the arena.
Biyu reacted just as quickly. Her Flame Clone and Great Phoenix techniques burst to life, transforming one opponent into five in an instant.
Controlling her daggers with qi, Zhu Ren launched them at the phoenix constructs, teleporting rapidly around the stage to attack both of Biyu’s identical forms at once.
One dagger struck Biyu’s clone, causing it to erupt into phoenix fire. Zhu Ren didn’t let it touch her—she teleported away just in time. But the dagger left behind wasn’t so lucky. It melted within seconds, reduced to a pool of metallic sludge.
She grit her teeth as she watched it burn. Of her 108 blunted daggers, she now had 107.
Then, a sharp thought struck her. She flicked her gaze toward the daggers clashing with the three phoenixes. The ones that had made contact were already starting to melt, flames licking across their surfaces until they sagged and began to drip.
“I surrender,” she sighed, withdrawing her remaining daggers with a tired wave.