"Here we are," Yun Che said with a faint, almost nostalgic smile, his eyes calmly meeting hers. "The summit of the Empire."
Xia Qingyue's gaze never wavered, though behind the veil, a storm of conflicting emotions brewed. "Then… may this Qingyue ask," she said, her voice cold but faintly tremulous, "why did you enter the Ranking Tournament? Was it for this? For us to meet again?"
Yun Che's expression didn't shift. "No," he answered plainly. "You're just the final opponent I happened to meet at the end. I joined this tournament for Cang Yue… to win, and to bring honor to the Blue Wind Imperial Family. That was all."
His honesty was sharp. Unapologetic. And somehow, it stung.
"You speak as though you knew this would happen. That we would stand here like this."
Yun Che gave a faint shrug. "Why do you think Retsu let you win?"
Xia Qingyue's breath hitched, her composure briefly cracking. Her aura flared instinctively, a corona of icy mist rising around her in retaliation.
"…Then," she said slowly, her tone hardening into something cold and brittle, "this Qingyue will ask one last time—before we fight."
She took a step forward. Her voice cut through the charged air like a blade.
"Who in the world are you?"
It wasn't curiosity in her voice.
It was dread.
A need to understand the person that had uprooted everything she thought she knew.
Yun Che's eyes narrowed. "I'll tell you," he said with a smirk, "after I defeat you."
He stepped forward.
And then, without warning, the entire arena shuddered.
The spiritual aura around him synchronized and solidified. Pressure burst outward—not with violence, but with immovable presence. A white aura surged to life, surrounding Yun Che in a radiant pulse of pure, refined energy. His robes fluttered violently, his twin swords humming at his sides.
Xia Qingyue's expression twisted into a small shock. This wasn't just a release of power. It was a revelation. Just like Unohana Retsu.
He wasn't bluffing when he said he had been fighting with a low cultivation base all along. Or more like suppressed cultivation.
Now, finally unrestrained—
"Grand Perfection Sky Profound Realm."
A title almost mythic.
A level thought to be unattainable within such a short time.
Gasps echoed throughout the Sword Discourse Arena. Even the elders rose to their feet in disbelief. The sheer density and purity of the aura made seasoned experts flinch. The stage cracked under the unseen weight.
As for Xia Qingyue… her heart steeled beneath the veil.
This isn't the man that bound to her by marriage. The man she married with a promise.
This was someone else entirely.
And now, she had to fight him. In his full powered state.
The instant Yun Che's cultivation surged and solidified at the Grand Perfection Sky Profound Realm, the arena was thrown into complete uproar. Shock and disbelief rippled across the sea of spectators like a physical force. People rose to their feet, shouting, whispering, gasping—trying to make sense of what they had just witnessed.
"He's a Peak Sky Profound Realm too?!"
"He's not even twenty yet! What kind of monstrous talent is that?!"
"The Blue Wind Imperial Family… they've been hiding dragons in plain sight all along!"
In a single moment, Yun Che, Cang Yue, Unohana Retsu, and Xia Qingyue as well as Nezuko had become the center of all attention. Their previously hidden powers—now revealed—dwarfed the competition. The sheer contrast between their apparent cultivations and their real ones shattered the pride of many sects in the audience.
"First the princess… a Peak Earth Profound Realm! Then that strange Unohana Retsu and Xia Qingyue at Peak Sky Profound Realm… and now even Yun Che is in the same league!"
"We were lied to! We were up against monsters disguised as True Profound Realm juniors! No wonder elites of the four sects meant nothing to them!"
One disciple from a top ten sect couldn't take it anymore and cried out, "Why did we even bother joining this tournament?! Just to suffer humiliation?!"
Their outburst, far from being mocked, was shared by many. Other disciples and elders alike sat in stunned silence or frustration. It was dawning on everyone that they had been pitted against a caliber of geniuses so far beyond their own, they might as well have been cannon fodder.
They might voice out to allow those who below Peak Spirit Profound Realm to enter and might send those beyond to enter the Seven Ranking Tournament.
On the stage, Xia Qingyue remained silent, though her gaze never left Yun Che. Her elegant face was mostly obscured by the thin ice veil, but behind it, her eyes shimmered with complex emotions—shock, awe, perhaps even a twinge of fear. He stood confidently in his flowing black Shihakushō, the white haori bearing the number ten swaying gently in the aftermath of his released pressure.
He had been hiding this all along. Not just from the world… but from her. And not just him—Unohana Retsu too. The very people who stood at her side had been concealing the full extent of their power. She had always believed she was walking the path of cultivation with steady progress, but now… she realized how far behind she truly was.
Two years. That was all it took for Yun Che to transform from the powerful but frail young man she had once married into a warrior so powerful the Empire itself stood still before him. She had once pitied him before marriage. Shocked when he revealed his true power during the wedding. Now, she wondered if she could ever reach him again.
Her grip on her ribbon tightened, and cold light swirled faintly around her form. She couldn't allow herself to fall behind. Not now. Not ever again.
If two years were enough for Yun Che to rise to this level, then she would need to match him—and surpass him—in the years to come.
No matter what it took.
Gong Yuxian found herself speechless. She had no strength left to be shocked. First it was Unohana Retsu—an enigma of power and grace, capable of using water bending who revealed herself as a Sky Profound Master. Then Cang Yue, the imperial princess who has the power of a Peak Earth Profound Master. Now Yun Che—revealing similar cultivation that of Unohana Retsu. The leader of these women wasn't simply their equal; he was clearly their center, their guide, and their pillar.
She suddenly remembered another detail—Nezuko. The silent girl who laughed in the face of Yun Che's pressure when everyone else trembled. That wasn't just arrogance. It was proof. Proof that she too was of the same monstrous class. And with that, the terrifying reality clicked into place. This was no ordinary gathering of geniuses. This was an assembly of monsters. An entire group who stood leagues above even the peak sect disciples of the Empire.
While the Asgard has Xia Qingyue, but Blue Wind Imperial Family have a whole pack of monsters with them. Then, what of those two? Unohana Nemuri and Mio.
Shui Wushuang and Wu Xuexin stared in disbelief, but shock wasn't in their minds right now as they already accepted the fact when the monsters revealed their true power. They had faced Unohana Retsu and Princess Cang Yue, fought them, and still lived. That alone now felt like a miracle. Their pride, once fueled by the prestige of being Frozen Cloud Asgard disciples, now lay in tatters. They hadn't fought a peer—they had fought a celestial.
And they weren't alone.
In the stands, the Xiao Clan's young masters—Xiao Kuangyu, Xiao Zhen, and Xiao Nan—sat frozen. Each of them, who once looked down on Yun Che as someone who bites more than he can chew. Leading a group who dishonor the tournament by entering as a True Profound Realm while the rest of the entries are Spirit Profound Realms, now found themselves haunted by the thought that they had provoked someone who could erase them without lifting a finger. The memory of their arrogance now tasted bitter. They had survived them. Barely.
Ling Yun, the once-proud prodigy, stood pale-faced. He had already been defeated by Yun Che and his Sky Profound Realm swords shattered, but now… he realized just how massive the gap had truly been. He hadn't lost to someone slightly stronger. He had been completely, utterly outclassed by someone who had been holding back everything.
Even within the ranks of the proud and once-dominant Burning Heaven Clan, a storm of disbelief and frustration raged. Whispers of shock spread like wildfire, each name spoken in hushed, trembling tones—Fen Juecheng, Fen Juebi, Fen Jin, and the cold, brooding Fen Juechen all sat in stunned silence. Their memories replayed the bitter taste of defeat—brutal, absolute, and humiliating. Whether it was on the grand stage or in private confrontations, they had been crushed by Yun Che's unrelenting might.
Back then, they thought they had seen everything. They believed he had shown his full hand.
They were wrong.
He hadn't even begun to try.
Even Fen Yuange, once held in high regard for his strength, had been thoroughly defeated—by none other than Cang Yue, the woman they'd dismissed as little more than a noble's sheltered daughter. Now, he sat slumped, shattered in spirit, his pride shattered along with his power.
Fen Juecheng clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. His jaw tightened with every glance at Yun Che, now standing tall as the center of the empire's attention. That boy they had once mocked was no longer just an upstart. He was a monster. A juggernaut. Someone beyond their reach. And worse, Yun Che hadn't just taken their pride—he had crippled their fathers and humiliated their elders. Their entire legacy was in ruins, and the person responsible stood before them smiling as if the destruction he wrought was nothing more than a game.
Even Ling Yuefeng, the esteemed master of the Heavenly Sword Villa, could only grit his teeth in silence as he remembered the failure of their plan to kidnap Princess Cang Yue which results the destruction of his Limitless Sword and his father's cultivation reduced. He had once looked down on Yun Che, questioning his qualifications and ridiculing his audacity. But deep down, he now understood a chilling truth: if Yun Che hadn't been that powerful back then—hadn't carried that unshakable will—he and that Unohana Retsu would never have survived the Burning Heaven Clan's assault. In fact, none of them would have.
Yun Che wasn't just a rising genius anymore.
He was the storm they all failed to prepare for.
But amidst the roaring tide of disbelief and crumbling pride, one man didn't even flinch.
Cang Wanhe, Emperor of the Blue Wind Nation, sat calmly on his throne. His eyes never left the arena, but they were not wide with shock like the rest. Instead, he watched with quiet pride and recognition. He had known. He had seen glimpses of their strength when Cang Yue's group stopped the rebellion without effort. He had witnessed how they operated—not just as fighters, but as forces of change behind Cang Yue.
Cang Wanhe hadn't come to this tournament to see surprises. He came to see confirmation.
He smiled faintly, watching his daughter stand shoulder to shoulder with living legends. He could watch her grow from now on.
As for the rest of the empire?
They were only just beginning to understand the weight of the storm that had been silently gathering around them all along.
=====================
"Not that shocking, right?" Yun Che's voice was calm, but the burst of radiant white aura that surged from his body silenced the arena once more. It rippled outwards like a silent tide, commanding attention, respect—and fear. "This is my true level. Now… let's get on with it."
Xia Qingyue narrowed her eyes, her veil fluttering slightly from the pressure. "Are you transforming? Into that golden warrior?"
Yun Che chuckled faintly. "No. This will suffice."
He didn't need to say more. His words alone carried a heavy finality. The form she referred to—his so-called golden warrior transformation—the Super Saiyan was a trump card he didn't intend to play unless absolutely necessary. His current state, his Grand Perfection Sky Profound Realm, was already leagues above what anyone present could have imagined. To stack another transformation on top of that would be… overkill.
Xia Qingyue's expression hardened. "Am I that weak in your eyes? That you don't even consider transforming against me?"
Gritting her teeth behind the veil, she struggled to contain the mixture of pride and fury that surged in her heart. He was taking her lightly… was he?
"No," Yun Che said bluntly. "That form drains my stamina. It's not about you being weak, Qingyue… it's just not worth the cost."
He gave her a knowing smirk.
"I have more than enough power to defeat you as I am."
That casual confidence. That unwavering tone. It stung, even if it was grounded in reality. But Xia Qingyue, proud disciple of Frozen Cloud Asgard and beloved daughter of the heavens, wouldn't take those words lying down.
Her aura flared once more, colder than ever, responding not just to his words, but to the invisible line he had just drawn between them.
"Are both contestants ready?" Ling Wugou's voice echoed across the arena, but his heart wasn't in it. His eyes locked onto Yun Che, and a flood of regret washed over him. He vividly recalled the day Yun Che and his strange, veiled companions had entered the tournament through a mysterious portal—late, unannounced, and carrying the pressure of unknown strength. At the time, Ling Wugou had considered disqualifying them on the spot. If only he had. If only he had sent them away, the finals might've played out like they always did—Frozen Cloud Asgard versus Heavenly Sword Villa. Familiar, expected, safe.
But instead, he sighed. That late entry not only shook the tournament but flipped the entire hierarchy of Blue Wind's younger generation. Two of Yun Che's allies had already taken third and fifth place—both of them monsters hiding behind gentle faces. And now, the last one, Yun Che himself, was standing across from the Asgard's pride—Xia Qingyue.
"Begin!"
BOOM!
No time was given. No hesitation.
The word had barely left Ling Wugou's mouth when Yun Che fired an energy blast with frightening precision. The blast slammed into Xia Qingyue's area, exploding in a flash of light and smoke. Gasps erupted from the crowd, but before they could even process what happened, the dust began to settle.
A glimmer of icy blue light pierced through the smoke.
Xia Qingyue stood within a crystalline lotus of ice—not ordinary ice, but one that shimmered with divine brilliance. The unmistakable glow of the Ice Phoenix God Investiture Canon. Her automatic defense—a technique she'd once used against Unohana Retsu—had activated the moment Yun Che's attack struck. A perfect counter.
"Tch. Retsu was right," Yun Che muttered under his breath. "That damn defense lotus is annoying."
It wasn't just annoying anymore—it had evolved. The automatic defense lotus that once merely protected Xia Qingyue was now laced with the divine power of Ice Phoenix Ice, a clear mark of the Ice Phoenix God Investiture Canon.
From the audience, Unohana Retsu watched with a serene, amused smile, her sharp eyes catching the faint divine patterns swirling within the ice. The Frozen Cloud Arts, which once defined the legacy of Frozen Cloud Asgard, now felt like a relic of the past—mere child's play compared to what Xia Qingyue was wielding now.
The disciples and high fairies of Frozen Cloud Asgard leaned forward in unison, eyes wide with awe as they watched the unfolding spectacle. This wasn't just another display of profound strength—this was the manifestation of a legendary divine art, one that had remained untouched and unattainable for centuries.
The Ice Phoenix God Investiture Canon—or in their terms, The Frozen End Arts—had long been locked away within the Hall of Extreme Ice, guarded by conditions no disciple had ever managed to endure. Many had tried, hopeful and determined, but all had failed. The sacred cold within the Hall devoured all who entered. Even the most gifted among them—the Seven Fairies and even Gong Yuxian herself—had never managed to endure its biting cold long enough to glimpse the deeper mysteries, much less grasp its cultivation.
And yet here she stood.
Xia Qingyue.
A girl born in the remote Floating Cloud City, once thought to be a mere daughter of a merchant, now revealing mastery over a divine art that had eluded Frozen Cloud Asgard's elite for generations.
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the Asgard seating.
"Is that truly… the Frozen End Arts?"
"But it's impossible… no one has ever lasted long enough in the Hall!"
Gong Yuxian herself said nothing, her gaze fixed and unmoving. For the first time in decades, she felt inferior to a disciple of her own sect. It was a bitter and humbling truth. What she and the others could never touch, this young woman had made her own. No divine favor, no shortcuts—only cold, unyielding talent and the will to survive what others couldn't.
And as the divine lotuses bloomed and danced in ice and light, the truth settled across the mountain like a fresh layer of frost:
Frozen Cloud Asgard's legacy was no longer in the hands of the old generation.
It had passed to the girl from the clouds—the one who had ascended far beyond the heavens they once believed unreachable.
"So she's finally using it…" Retsu mused, her voice soft. "If I hadn't tested her yesterday, she never would've revealed it today."
Her gaze shimmered, the pale violet in her irises deepening into a glittering aqua hue—a sign of her heightened observation in water-based arts. She wasn't just watching a battle. She was dissecting it.
Unlike others, Retsu had never shown interest in learning the Frozen Cloud Arts even when Little Fairy offered. Yun Che had once told her that the sect's proud legacy was nothing more than a fragment—a tenth of the real thing. The true inheritance was the Ice Phoenix God Investiture Canon, hidden and sealed away on a hidden obelisk hidden in the Asgard.
Retsu had long set her sights on it.
She had once asked Yun Che to teach her the World Ode of the Phoenix, but upon learning that it was incomplete, she had declined for now.
Now, with Xia Qingyue wielding a complete form of the Ice Phoenix Canon before her, Retsu's interest ignited like never before.
"Not bad," she whispered to herself, lips curling. "If I observe her long enough… I might just be able to unravel it. Enhance my understanding."
Her mind was already racing ahead. She would watch, memorize, and absorb. And when the time was right, she would follow Yun Che to Frozen Cloud Asgard, seek out the hidden obelisk, and claim the complete legacy. By that time, she can easily manifest them.
Because unlike the others who were stunned by the spectacle, Retsu was studying it—preparing for the moment she would turn divine ice into her own blade via talent and waterbending.
The air turned cold. Icy mist spread from Qingyue's body as her aura surged. Grand Perfection Sky Profound Realm, combined with the divine power of the Ice Phoenix, gave her an otherworldly presence. She retaliated instantly.
With a wave of her hand, she launched dozens of exploding ice lotuses, each one blooming with deadly precision. They homed in on Yun Che like divine wrath given form.
Yun Che weaved between the incoming attacks, his form flickering like a shadow. He danced through the storm, each explosion erupting just behind him, showering the arena with icy shards. His speed was surreal, and within moments, he had cleared most of the arena—now standing almost 200 meters from Qingyue.
The new arena, expanded to a 300-meter radius after Yun Che and Xia Yuanba nearly obliterated the old one during their beam clash, was barely enough. Retsu's dragon had personally convinced the management to increase the size—and thank the heavens they did. Otherwise, this duel would have ended the entire tournament grounds.
Xia Qingyue's cold gaze didn't waver. Yun Che's smirk didn't fade.
"Good." Yun Che shifted his stance, the ground beneath his feet cracking slightly from the force. In an instant, he vanished—a blur to most eyes—and crossed the remaining 200 meters in a heartbeat. A thunderous boom erupted in his wake as his departure created a shockwave that sent dust and debris swirling into the air.
Xia Qingyue flinched as a faint line appeared on her cheek—a single strand of hair sliced away by the sheer force of his movement. She turned instinctively, her gaze locking onto the source of the blast behind her. A deep crater smoked at the far edge of the arena… and from it, Yun Che stepped forth, unharmed, composed, and dangerous.
"This is his speed?" she wondered, heart pounding. It wasn't just fast—it was inhuman. She could barely react.
The audience sat frozen. Eyes wide. Mouths agape. No one had expected such raw acceleration from someone already displaying monstrous strength.
Meanwhile, Gong Yuxian narrowed her eyes. "Qingyue won't lose," she stated with quiet confidence. "She has now embraced the power of the Frozen End Arts. With equal cultivation, Yun Che will eventually fall behind."
But Little Fairy remained silent, her eyes flicking between Yun Che and Qingyue. Her fists clenched slightly.
"No, Mother…" she thought to herself, her instincts prickling. "He's much stronger than this."
Back on the battlefield, Xia Qingyue grit her teeth and launched a sharp attack. Her ribbon, laced with frost, cracked like a whip through the air, aiming to bind and strike in a fluid motion. But Yun Che had faced it before.
With practiced ease, he moved—not dodging randomly, but preemptively. Every strike she made, he avoided by mere inches, as if reading her thoughts in real time. His mastery of Haki wasn't just advanced—it was absolute. Each of her movements, every flick of her wrist, telegraphed to him like echoes in the wind.
Yun Che twisted midair, flipped backwards gracefully, and in the same motion, unsheathed his Zanpakutō in its Asauchi state. He launched into a series of lightning-fast slashes, forcing Xia Qingyue into full defense. His strikes were faster, sharper, and more relentless than even his battle with Xia Yuanba.
Her ribbon tried to counter, but he intercepted it mid-swing—pinning it down with a forceful downward slash. Before she could recover, he raised his leg and aimed a devastating kick toward her abdomen.
A shimmering lotus barrier materialized instantly—the automatic defense again.
CRACK!
His kick didn't break through… but the shockwave from the impact sent Xia Qingyue sliding backward, her feet grinding trenches into the stone arena floor. Ice scattered like snowflakes behind her, and her expression betrayed the disbelief building inside her.
She jumped in the air and raised a hand forming a massive snowball of ice before tossing it at Yun Che. Whom raise his hand before shooting an energy blast that shoots to the snowball and scattered it across the stage. One could see how the frost energy didn't even affect him one bit.
"He canceled it?" Xia Qingyue muttered, stunned—but it was already too late.
Yun Che had already closed the gap. In a blink, his sword met her ribbon again in a series of rapid, dazzling exchanges. He was faster now, more fluid—like water adapting to every curve of her strikes. No words were spoken. Only movement. Only the clash of ice and steel, echoing through the shattered remnants of the arena.
His relentless strikes began landing—subtle but telling hits that chipped away at her stamina. Even with her defensive ice constructs, Yun Che's pressure was too efficient. He wasn't overwhelming her with brute force alone—it was precision, reading her rhythm and countering at every turn.
Pushed back, Xia Qingyue raised her hand, summoning a blizzard of razor-sharp icicles that filled the sky. Hundreds, then thousands rained down like spears from the heavens, each one infused with divine cold and terrifying force.
But Yun Che didn't flinch.
With flawless control, he flipped, cartwheeled, and spiraled through the storm with the grace of a master acrobat. It was as if he knew—no, sensed—where every icicle would fall. A narrow twist here, a slight lean there, and the deadly barrage became a dance floor for him.
Sister Yuechan had been right. The way he moved, the way he anticipated attacks—it was more than instinct. It was Haki, an art that sharpened perception beyond mortal limits. Xia Qingyue thought as she targeted him. To the others, he was threading a needle through death itself. To Yun Che, the storm was moving in slow motion.
Meanwhile, Xia Qingyue kept firing, her face calm but increasingly strained. Each icicle held the power to annihilate a small army. Yet she cast thousands. Hundreds should've exhausted her. Yet she stood unfaltering, her aura never waning.
"So this is the power of the Nine Profound Exquisite Body…" Yun Che thought as he weaved through the barrage.
One explosion went off too close, engulfing his position in a white-blue blast. Gasps echoed through the crowd—only for Yun Che to erupt out of the smoke, soaring forward like a bolt of lightning.
She responded immediately, launching another wave—but he blurred through it, zigzagging so fast the ice couldn't even track him.
The next moment—CLANG!
Their weapons met again in the center of the arena. Power surged from both sides as the floor beneath them cracked and buckled. Yun Che's sword flared with white energy as he unleashed a perfectly timed burst, striking through the petals of a defensive lotus.
The momentum carried into a teleport behind her, where he unleashed a spinning kick.
Her lotus intercepted—but the force sent her flying backward into the devastated edge of the stage. He held on one of the destroyed arena rocks.
Yun Che stood tall, his posture loose and confident, Asauchi still drawn at his side. His expression remained calm—almost too calm—amidst the wreckage of the arena. Craters, frozen spikes, and shattered tiles stretched across the battlefield, remnants of a clash that had left even the most seasoned sect masters speechless.
The crowd couldn't believe what they were witnessing.
Whispers rose like ripples in still water, slowly building into a wave of disbelief and awe. A few even murmured uneasily, questioning how a man could go so relentlessly against a woman—especially one as revered and graceful as Xia Qingyue.
But none dared speak too loudly. No one could deny the truth: this wasn't a mere duel. This was a battle of monsters in human form.
In the stands, Little Fairy clenched her hands tightly. Her eyes never left Yun Che. "Please don't go too far…" she prayed silently, her heart torn between admiration and anxiety. She had felt this level of power once before—but never displayed so casually. Yun Che wasn't even breathing hard.
The entire massive arena remained in stunned silence. Not a single soul dared speak above a whisper. Not even a few incense sticks of time had passed, and yet the entire arena had been transformed into a battlefield of ruin. It felt like hours of destruction had occurred in moments.
Across from Yun Che, Xia Qingyue finally showed signs of strain. Her breath hitched—only slightly, but enough to be noticed. Her previous attack—the unrelenting storm of divine icicles—had begun to wear on her. Each breath left a shimmering mist in the air as her Ice Phoenix aura pulsed erratically, fighting to stay steady.
Still, she stood. Determined. Defiant.
Yun Che watched her with unreadable eyes. Calm. Focused.
And utterly terrifying.
"First Stage…" Xia Qingyue whispered, her voice soft but sharp, like a shard of glass slipping into silence. Her aura surged—no longer just powerful, but refined, ancient, and majestic. The divine blue mist swirling around her crystallized midair, forming intricate runes of ancient origin as her entire being radiated an otherworldly cold.
"Ice Spirit—Frozen End Illusory Mirror!"
The words rang out like a divine decree.
In an instant, the air around Yun Che twisted unnaturally. His reflection appeared—no, multiple reflections—shimmering all around him like ghosts in a frozen lake. Each mirror showed a different version of Xia Qingyue, all poised to strike. The mirrors pulsed with frigid divine energy, capable of shattering both body and soul if touched.
The temperature in the arena plummeted even further, and many in the audience unconsciously covered their faces or retreated as a blast of frost blew toward the stands. The icy lotus petals of her former defense now floated midair like suspended blades, reinforcing the illusion with a beauty so cold it could kill.
From her elevated position, Retsu's lips curved into a slight smile.
"Now it gets interesting…" she murmured, eyes gleaming. This was the real thing. The original divine inheritance meant for a body like Xia Qingyue's.
Yun Che narrowed his eyes. His senses sharpened, his Haki flaring outward to decipher which reflection was real—if any. He could feel them… not just illusions. Each one carried a trace of her divine aura. If he struck the wrong one, it might even retaliate with real force.
But instead of panicking, he calmly adjusted his grip on Asauchi.
"…A mirror maze, huh?" Yun Che muttered, his voice steady, eyes narrowed as he raised his sword.
With a deliberate motion, he twisted the blade vertically in front of him. At first glance, it looked like a plain katana—unremarkable, save for the rectangular tsuba adorned with a flame-like pattern along its long sides, inward-curved corners, and elegant curved slits on either end of the blade. The reddish-brown hilt was simple… yet dignified.
Then came the invocation.
"Mae—Sode no Shirayuki." (Dance—Sleeves of White Snow.)
As Yun Che spoke the name, he turned the blade counter-clockwise in a graceful arc. In that instant, the transformation began.
The reddish hilt turned pure white.
The tsuba reshaped into a delicate hollow snowflake.
The blade itself became radiant and crystalline, as though forged from pure winter. From the pommel, a long, flowing white ribbon unfurled—dancing in the air, guided by a breeze of its own.
A sudden gust of icy wind burst out in every direction, sweeping across the arena in a blinding flash of frost. The temperature plummeted yet again—this time not from Xia Qingyue's power, but from his.
All around him, the illusions—the mirrors conjured by her Frozen End Illusory Mirror—froze in place. Then, with a delicate, brittle sound, they shattered, one after another, like breaking glass under the touch of true, sovereign cold.
Silence fell.
The crowd, already shocked by his previous reveals, were stunned into stillness once more.
"I-It's… a water-type sword? No, wait—it's ice…!"
"But Yun Che has never used water or ice elements before…!"
"This can't be… Ice techniques belong to the Frozen Cloud Asgard… and now he…?!"
Gong Yuxian stood frozen in place, her breath caught in her throat, lips slightly parted. She, the Matriarch of Frozen Cloud Asgard, the guardian of ice arts for generations, could barely comprehend what she was seeing. The arena shimmered under the icy light of Sode no Shirayuki, and the very air felt reverent, as though the heavens themselves had stilled to witness the sword's emergence.
"Aside from Frozen Cloud Asgard… there's another ice wielder? It's male?!" she thought, almost disbelieving. "No… not just any wielder. His ice… it's not from us. It's something else. Something purer. Older…"
Even Little Fairy—Chu Yuechan—stood shaken, her normally impassive gaze fixed on the brilliant white blade. This wasn't just any weapon. This was a Zanpakutō. And not one she'd seen before.
"Did he…" she whispered to herself, "bring out a new Zanpakutō?"
She had seen Zangetsu—his signature blade of raw power. She had seen Zabimaru, wild and flexible, and even Retsu's Minazuki, terrifying in its graceful devastation. But this… Sode no Shirayuki was something else entirely. A blade of silence and sorrow, elegance and death.
"Is this why the cold doesn't affect him?" Little Fairy—Chu Yuechan—murmured, her eyes widening in realization.
She remembered it clearly. Back then, when Yun Che was still growing in strength, even the Frozen Cloud Arts had chilled his body. He had grit his teeth, fought through the pain, and endured her ice techniques. He had no natural resistance then—only sheer will.
But this…
This was different.
Now he stood beneath the storm of Ice Phoenix might—amidst a battlefield of glacial devastation—and not only was he unfazed… he was in control. The frigid air danced around him like a familiar companion. The icy pressure that once would have numbed his limbs now bowed before him.
Then, the truth dawned.
"Of course… the Zanpakutō."
An ice-type Zanpakutō—Sode no Shirayuki. That explained everything. A weapon not just of frozen beauty but of dominion over water and ice itself. A spirit-sword that synchronized with its wielder's soul, bestowing elemental mastery far beyond normal comprehension. With it, Yun Che wasn't merely enduring the cold.
He was the cold.
"So that's it…" she whispered. "He's wielding an ice-type Zanpakutō. That's why even the Frozen End Arts can't touch him. Any ice or water law… is simply negated by his own elemental authority."
It wasn't just her.
From the stands, the seven top fairies of Frozen Cloud Asgard stood rooted in disbelief. Even Chu Yueli, usually composed and calm, had her hand raised to her lips in stunned silence.
A male ice user. Not one struggling with the rejection of the Frozen End Arts… but one who commanded a new type of ice. Who summoned a divine cold that resonated—no, overwhelmed—even the Ice Phoenix's breath.
"H-He's wielding divine ice?" Fen Hanyue murmured.
"Impossible… even the Hall of Extreme Ice rejects most of us. But him—he just… froze an illusion forged from Ice Phoenix might… This is not our ice!" Murong Qianxue shouted.
Gong Yuxian's thoughts churned with a rare, calculating intensity behind her serene expression. Her eyes remained on the battlefield, but her mind had already begun forging plans beneath the ice and snow.
What if… she rewrote the rules?
Not the written rules, of course—those were etched in the sacred laws of the Frozen Cloud Asgard—but the spirit of them. The political ones. The silent ones.
"If Yun Che joins us… then everything changes."
She saw it clearly now: Shirayuki and Kuroyuki—a pair of sentient, divine-class Zanpakutō—already beyond anything in the Asgard's frozen vaults. Merely possessing them would elevate their arts by a hundred years. And if he brought them inside their walls...
No force in the empire could challenge the Frozen Cloud Asgard. Possibly beyond the empire.
And it didn't stop there.
Unohana Retsu.
The name alone carried weight, but her graceful slaughter, her lethal healing arts, and now her Waterbending—a terrifying hybrid of external martial control and internal fluidity—would revolutionize the Asgard's martial doctrines.
And where he went, his shadows would follow:
The butterfly-clipped woman, mysterious, elegant, and clearly dangerous.
The other braided girl, younger, but nearly as calm, who followed Retsu as a sister might a hidden blade.
They would not choose the Asgard.
They would choose him. Wherever he went, they followed.
And then there was Princess Cang Yue. A legitimate royal, with political influence and access to state resources. Her connections to Dracule Mihawk—the strongest swordsman of his realm—meant his daughter, Nezuko and disciple, Yoru could be roped in too.
An alliance with them would not just secure power... it would redefine the Asgard's place in the world.
"We wouldn't just dominate this continent...""We would reshape the laws of cultivation itself."
A smirk threatened to tug at her lips. She quickly hid it behind a composed nod, as if admiring Xia Qingyue's performance.
Cang Yue, standing inside the Blue Wind Imperial Family seating zone, couldn't look away. Her breath left her in a whisper.
"Beautiful…"
It was the first time she had ever seen Sode no Shirayuki.
As for Mio, she had met the spirit in Yun Che's Inner World, yes—Shirayuki, the main spirit of the blade—but never had she seen the sword itself in action. Yun Che had never summoned it before. Never needed to. He preferred Zangetsu, for its brute power and sheer force.
But now… under the snowfall of the arena and the silent stares of thousands… he had brought her out.
A blade of winter, unveiled.
And the world would never forget it.
And on the battlefield—Xia Qingyue's breath hitched.
Her wide amethyst eyes were locked onto the blade. Sode no Shirayuki.
She had never seen such beauty before. It wasn't just cold—it was regal, graceful, devastating. The way it danced in Yun Che's hand was like watching a snowstorm wrapped in poetry. Its presence resonated with her Ice Phoenix bloodline, harmonizing with it in ways that shouldn't have been possible.
"That sword…" she whispered. "It… responds to divine ice. No—it's not just like my arts. It's deeper, older… alive."
Above the arena, Retsu tilted her head slightly.
"So… he finally brought her out," she mused. "The most beautiful Zanpakutō in Soul Society according to Yachiru-san. Sode no Shirayuki."
The ribbon from the blade fluttered as Yun Che exhaled slowly, lifting the blade with a single hand.
"Impressive, but you and your Asgard aren't the only ones who dances with the snow, Qingyue," he said quietly.
A silence fell upon the arena.
Jin Mulan's eyes lingered on the figure encased in frost and light. Her heart beat erratically as she whispered internally:
"Is this truly the man I once called husband? The man I knew as Mu Che?"
He had unraveled mystery after mystery since their reunion, peeling back layers of identity with every impossible feat. Yun Che… Mu Che… The names blurred. But the power—that was undeniable. If they truly were one and the same, then the man she had loved had become something far beyond what she ever imagined.
From the stands, Xue Ling and Lin Yueru stood speechless.
To see Cang Yue's consort command such power… to see him overwhelm someone wielding the legendary Ice Phoenix Canon… it shook their perception to the core.
"So this is the man Yue'er chose to marry?" Xue Ling thought, a flicker of reassurance washing over her. "Then her future is secure. No… terrifyingly secure."
She had only touched the foundation of Haki last night, and already it had altered her senses. The vast world she thought she understood now felt limitless. And Yun Che… was leagues above that threshold.
As for Lin Yueru, a reluctant breath escaped her lips. Her pride bristled at the idea, but another emotion—perhaps awe, perhaps caution—settled in her chest.
"Note to self… start speaking to him more kindly."
"Or risk getting my arrogant behind frozen into an ice sculpture."
No roar. No murmur. Just stunned, breathless silence as the ethereal, snowflake-shaped tsuba of Yun Che's newly revealed Zanpakutō shimmered under the sunlight. Sode no Shirayuki—pure white, impossibly elegant—radiated a cold unlike any the world had seen.
The air grew thin. Cold mist drifted across the battlefield, swirling around his body like living frost. Ice crept over the shattered tiles of the arena. And yet, he stood—calm, composed, unaffected.
A male ice user.
It was unthinkable.
The contrast was staggering. The same man who once wielded fire with devastating, divine fury—who unleashed crimson waves that destroyed the Celestial Yin Yang Swords—now conjured cold that made even the Ice Phoenix tremble.
"He uses both… fire and ice?"
"But that defies the laws of nature!"
"He… embodies both."
From the royal box, even Cang Wanhe, the Emperor, narrowed his eyes. His hands trembled on the armrests. "This boy… is more than a prodigy."
And then came the anger.
From the sects—Burning Heaven Clan, Xiao Sect, Heavenly Sword Villa—waves of disbelief turned into resentment.
"First he crushes us," Fen Juecheng snarled, "All this time, he was hiding this?!"
"That bastard was holding back the entire time…" Xiao Kuangyu muttered, eyes twitching.
"Is this why the goddesses chose him?" Ling Yun said coldly.
Sect elders lowered their heads. Their pride shattered. Every genius they had boasted about, every proud disciple, was now insignificant next to the presence of Yun Che.
One man.
Master of fire and ice.
A walking calamity cloaked in youthful skin.
Even Ling Wugou, the officiator, trembled. His thoughts returned to that day when Yun Che and his party had arrived late—emerging from a mysterious portal.
"I should've denied them," he muttered under his breath. "Should've ended it there."
But it was far too late now.
--------------------------
The mirrored illusions of ice closed in—dozens of Xia Qingyues, each indistinguishable from the real one. Their movements were synchronized, silent, and graceful. Each step shimmered across the frost-laced arena like a dance of ghosts in moonlight. It was her signature move—Frozen End Illusory Mirror, perfected through the divine legacy of the Ice Phoenix.
But Yun Che… simply smirked.
"Some no mai, (First Dance)" he uttered softly, as if reciting a verse of poetry.
Holding Sode no Shirayuki in reverse grip, Yun Che's expression became calm and solemn. The tip of his blade glowed with an otherworldly white light, ethereal and pure. Slowly, he raised his arm and traced a perfect circle in the air with the sword's tip.
And then—he cut the circle.
In that instant, the very space within the drawn ring stopped. Time itself seemed to freeze.
"Tsukishiro (Moon White)"
A brilliant pillar of white light erupted upward from the circle's center, shooting toward the sky like a divine lance of moonlight. It engulfed everything within its reach—ice illusions, frost particles, and mirrored traps—all frozen in a blink. A deathly silence followed, and then—
CRACK.
The illusions shattered, not like glass, but like divine crystal collapsing into dust. Every mirror clone of Xia Qingyue was disintegrated, erased completely from existence. There was no scream. No aftershock. Only the lingering hiss of vapor as the air temperature dropped violently.
The arena gasped as a single streak of mist drifted lazily from the aftermath. Where once stood an intricate battlefield of clones and illusions, now remained only a circular crater of flawless ice, smooth as polished glass.
Xia Qingyue—the real one—stood at the edge, her ribbon raised, her expression frozen in disbelief.
She had crafted a domain of illusions to disorient and strike. But Yun Che didn't simply see through it.
He erased it.
Effortlessly.
Frozen Cloud Asgard watched in stunned awe.
"What… what was that technique?" whispered Jun Lianqie, trembling.
"He didn't even target her directly…" Chu Yueli murmured. "He froze the space around her illusions…"
"That's not just ice…" Gong Yuxian narrowed her eyes. "That's spatial freezing. And he made it look like art."
The audience, from sect masters to wandering cultivators, could only stare.
Yun Che let the tip of Sode no Shirayuki rest against the ground, faint trails of mist spiraling upward from the blade.
"I guess," Yun Che smiled, his breath forming mist in the frigid air, "I can attack now?"
Before his feet even shifted, Xia Qingyue reacted. A wave of icy light flashed around her as she summoned a formation of illusory ice mirrors—spectral versions of herself blooming in all directions. Dozens of mirror images moved as one, surrounding Yun Che with ethereal grace.
But he didn't flinch.
"Tsugi no mai…(Next Dance)" Yun Che intoned, his voice low, steady.
Clink.
He stabbed the tip of Sode no Shirayuki into the ground once—then again, and again—four total strikes, forming a semi-circle pattern. Each puncture released a pulse of cold. From those wounds in the earth, ice particles began to rise, glittering like stardust under moonlight. The air pulsed with pressure as Yun Che slid into a poised battle stance, the tip of his now-white Zanpakutō pointed forward.
The gathered ice whirled and coalesced at the blade's tip.
"Hakuren—(Water Ripple)."
Then—he released it.
A sudden howl echoed through the arena.
A monstrous avalanche of pure white cold surged forward, wide and unstoppable like a frozen tidal wave. The breath of Hakuren swept across the ground with such intensity that the very air shimmered blue. The wave didn't crash with sound—it consumed. It devoured the space before Yun Che in a blinding gale of frost and power.
Everything it touched was instantly flash-frozen.
Ice illusions? Gone.
Stone debris? Encased in glacial silence.
The stage itself cracked and groaned under the weight of the storm.
Xia Qingyue barely escaped, her feet shifting in a swirl of snow as she flickered sideways, narrowly avoiding being swallowed whole by the freezing deluge. Even her mirror clones that were not directly struck began to crack and collapse under the aftershock of the technique.
She stared wide-eyed as a half-circle of shimmering, frozen death stood where Yun Che once faced her.
"If I'd stood there half a breath longer…" she thought, shaken.
The difference was clear now.
Her Frozen End Arts, or the Ice Phoenix God Investiture Canon, were meant to be divine—untouchable by mortals. But from the moment Sode no Shirayuki appeared, something shifted.
Yun Che didn't match her ice.
He overruled it.
Her god-bestowed cold—shattered and silenced under his dance.
The audience, already struggling to process the first dance, now stood entirely numb. No one had ever seen ice wielded like this—not even from the Frozen Cloud Asgard.
"H-he disabled the pinnacle of the Frozen End Arts…" whispered Mu Lanyi, her voice barely audible.
"Her Frozen End Arts… completely suppressed…" Gong Yuxian murmured in disbelief. "By a man who also controls fire. Who is this Yun Che?!"
Xia Qingyue was still processing what just happened—the blinding storm, the frozen illusions, the sheer precision of his ice mastery—when she realized something.
He was gone.
A faint crunch echoed above her.
She looked up and gasped. Yun Che sat casually atop a jagged piece of frozen debris high above the shattered arena floor, one leg resting over the other, his white sword gleaming in his hand.
"My ice arts… not bad, right?" he said with a smug grin.
"Not bad?!"
The words stung more than any strike. She clenched her fists. He wasn't praising her—he was mocking her. Mocking the Frozen End Arts, the Ice Phoenix God Investiture Canon. Arts she had devoted almost two years to cultivating. And now, effortlessly, he had surpassed them… and dismissed them as "not bad."
Her gaze faltered for a moment, the glimmer in her eyes dimmed—wounded.
"He's… stronger. Far stronger," she admitted inwardly, a pang of frustration biting her chest.
With a flick of her wrist, she raised her enchanted ribbon once more, a glacial wind coiling around it like a silver serpent.
But Yun Che was already moving—effortlessly descending from the debris like a ghost drifting on snow.
CLANG!
Their weapons met mid-air—ribbon and Zanpakutō. But this time, she felt it.
Her ribbon trembled. Then crackled. Then… began to freeze.
Wide-eyed, she pulled back instinctively.
Crack… crack…!
Tiny webs of frost etched across the fabric's surface. Yun Che landed lightly before her, lowering Sode no Shirayuki with a calm expression.
"Ah… I should've warned you," he said smoothly. "Shirayuki freezes anything she touches. That ribbon of yours… if you keep swinging it at me, it'll end up like the others—just another ruined Sky Profound treasure."
Xia Qingyue's breath caught. Her ribbon—something she had always relied on, imbued with profound energy—had almost become worthless in one exchange.
"Shirayuki? What kind of sword is that?" she thought, biting her lip.
Around the arena, the silence thickened. Even the elders were unsure how to respond.
No wonder…
No wonder he didn't need that golden-haired transformation.
This—this terrifying sword of white snow, these glacial techniques that outclassed her own pinnacle—was already enough. Enough to overwhelm her.
A pang of doubt crept into her chest like frostbite.
"Should I… concede?"
The thought stung worse than defeat itself.
But she clenched her fists. No. She hadn't come all this way to simply be outclassed. She didn't return just to be pushed aside and buried in the shadow of his strength. She had come for him. To meet him again. To cross blades. To settle what had been left unspoken, undone—unresolved.
Even if she lost, she would not yield.
"Second Art…" Xia Qingyue's voice cracked with emotion and cold resolve.
The air shifted. Her aura surged as a fragment of ancient knowledge bloomed in her mind—words engraved into her soul from that ancient, ice-covered obelisk hidden deep within the Hall of Extreme Ice:
Ice... the extremity of water. The extremity of coldness. All things under heaven can become ice. Water can be frozen into ice, blood can be frozen into ice, energy can be frozen into ice, the profound can be frozen into ice. Mountains, hills, even the skies—all can be frozen into ice…
Yun Che's eyes widened. His instincts screamed.
He leapt back immediately—but it was too late.
"Frozen End: Illusory Coffin!!" she cried.
The atmosphere snapped.
A sudden, overwhelming frost burst outward like a divine decree. The air itself crystallized, trembling under Xia Qingyue's will. Shards of moisture froze midair. Energy condensed. The debris, the wind—everything around Yun Che began converging in an unnatural stillness.
He was the target.
The ice clung to him, hungry and absolute. The temperature plummeted as swirling wisps of blue-white light wrapped around his body, locking space itself in a coffin of glacial purity. A titanic block of glowing ice began to form around him—compressing tighter, sealing deeper, layer after layer of crystalline, ethereal frost. His outline slowly disappeared within the luminous tomb.
The entire arena fell silent.
Even the sound of the wind… had frozen.
Gong Yuxian stood frozen in awe. The top fairies of Frozen Cloud Asgard covered their mouths.
Even Little Fairy's heart skipped a beat.
"She caught him… she actually caught rascal!"
The obelisk's Frozen End Art, the forbidden second art—Frozen End Illusory Coffin—a technique no one had succeeded in activating for centuries… was now real. Xia Qingyue successfully cultivated not one but two stages of the Frozen End Arts.
Xia Qingyue dropped to one knee, breathing heavily. Her body trembled under the strain—but her eyes burned with unwavering determination.
"Even if it's just once… even if it costs me everything… I will not lose without leaving a mark on him!"
Xia Qingyue's chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath misting in the frozen air. Her body trembled—not from fear, but from the sheer toll. The Second Art, Frozen End Illusory Coffin, had devoured nearly half of her profound energy. Yet even so, her body's unique constitution began restoring her strength. Slowly. Steadily.
A small, confident smile played on Mio's lips as she watched the massive crystalline boulder imprisoning Yun Che from a distance.
"Ara… she caught Danna-sama," she said with a lazy sigh, like she was commenting on the weather.
Nemu, adjusting her glasses, spoke with her usual analytical tone.
"Seems that way. But… it's not over."
Cang Yue, arms crossed, observed the icy monument with calm eyes.
"Did he… just let himself be caught?"
From the sidelines, Yuanba's voice cracked slightly with worry.
"Aneki, that ice… even I can't get near it. It's—dangerous."
Yet none of Yun Che's companions seemed remotely concerned. If anything, they looked mildly amused. They had seen this man cheat death. Overcome monsters. Rewrite destiny. A mere ice coffin meant nothing.
Retsu, serene as always, spoke with a gentle edge.
"You worry too much."
She narrowed her eyes slightly as she sensed a flicker inside the coffin.
"Besides…" she murmured, "He's wielding the strongest ice-type twin swords."
Just then, a crackling pulse stirred within the boulder of ice. A faint shimmer emerged—a thread of white, like a vein of light inside the glacier. It was Shirayuki.
From the coffin's base, the blade pierced the surface like an arrowhead breaking through glass. Xia Qingyue instinctively jumped back, her instincts screaming. She stared as she saw an ice thread connecting the hilt of the sword and him.
A connection... from that sword... all the way to him inside?
Then came the voice—clear and powerful—echoing from deep within the prison of ice:
"San no mai…(Third Dance)"
"Shirafune! (White Sword)"
Xia Qingyue's eyes widened.
The white sword of ice elongated—an ethereal blade stretching forth in a blink—missing her narrowly. But when it touched the boundary of the ice coffin, the very moisture in the air responded. Ice crystallized on contact, the blade growing even longer, wrapping the barrier in its absolute cold.
In stunned silence, she watched as the extended sword froze the surrounding barrier, its biting chill gnawing away at her own creation.
"No… It's slicing through…"
A sudden explosion of light and ice followed. The boulder split apart, its structure unraveling like melting sugar under a magnifying glass. What had been her most powerful technique was now collapsing.
And from within…
Yun Che stepped out, untouched. Calm. Impossibly graceful.
In his hand, an ethereal ice blade, its blade now receding from a staggering fifty meters back to its modest, elegant form.
The sword had frozen and then sliced through the coffin from within, effortlessly.
Xia Qingyue stood frozen, her breath catching in her throat as shards of her shattered coffin drifted through the air like snowflakes. Yun Che stepped forward, each movement elegant, relaxed—too relaxed for someone who had just cut himself free from one of the most powerful arts in Frozen Cloud Asgard's history.
Yet even as doubt gnawed at the edges of her resolve, an idea struck her.
Her gaze fell to the center of the battlefield—Sode no Shirayuki, its pristine white blade still embedded in the ice, connected to Yun Che by a long, thin arc of glimmering frost. It pulsed faintly, a living conduit of energy.
If I can just… sever that connection…
Before the thought finished, a voice echoed in her mind—stern, sharp, commanding.
"Qingyue, you must claim that sword. Sever it from him. Seal it away immediately in your spatial ring. If it returns to his hand, this duel is over." —Gong Yuxian, her Asgard Mistress.
Xia Qingyue's eyes narrowed, the wind swirling around her heels.
"Seal the sword... remove his control..."
A plan, risky but possible.
With a subtle breath, she focused her profound energy, centering her mind. She had not used this domain in public before. She had only ever used it against Unohana Retsu, and the result had been… disastrous. Still, against Yun Che, she had no choice. If he was the master of the most beautiful ice blade, then she would become the storm that silenced all beauty.
She raised her arms skyward, frost swirling like petals.
"Frozen End Domain!"
A blast of silver-blue light erupted from her body, expanding outward in a perfect sphere. But this time, the cold wasn't gentle. It wasn't serene.
It was absolute. Ruthless. Beautiful and brutal.
Unlike the typical Frozen Cloud Domain, this one bore the unmistakable signature of the Frozen End Arts—its essence could freeze blood, spirit, and soul. Snow flurried upward, caught in the inverted pressure of her domain. The ground cracked and shimmered with hoarfrost. The temperature plunged even further.
Yun Che stopped moving.
His long haori fluttered. Ice bloomed around his boots, but he didn't budge. His eyes scanned the domain with interest, not fear.
And then he smiled.
"You fused your Domain with the Frozen End?" he asked softly, his voice almost admiring.
Xia Qingyue didn't answer.
In a blur, she moved—not towards him, but toward the center of the arena, toward Shirayuki.
If I can just reach it—seal it—this battle will shift!
Ice rushed beneath her feet as she accelerated with full power, her movement twisting through her domain like a ghost. Her target: the white sword, the key to his power.
But Yun Che's eyes narrowed just slightly.
"So, that's your play."
He didn't move.
Yet the ice line connecting him and Shirayuki shivered.
Yun Che met Xia Qingyue's advance with fluid ease, wielding ethereal ice blades conjured from Shirayuki's essence. They clashed with her radiant, blossoming lotuses—hundreds of them raining down like a blizzard of frozen sakura petals, each one beautiful but deadly. A single touch could slow him, stall him… and she only needed a moment to reach her true target.
Shirayuki, impaled into the center of the arena—elegant, unmoving, and seemingly unguarded.
Qingyue dashed forward, lotus after lotus blooming in her wake to distract Yun Che, whose dual blades danced like streaks of moonlight. Her breath was heavy, her veins strained from channeling too much profound energy at once—but her goal was within reach.
Not just her—others noticed too.
Sect masters. Elders. Rogue cultivators. Their eyes gleamed with ambition.
That sword… If we could claim it… cultivate its arts… we'd eclipse even Frozen Cloud Asgard!
A ripple surged through the crowd—greed unspoken but collective.
Gong Yuxian's voice boomed into Qingyue's mind: "Take the sword!"
She reached out, hand trembling with effort and anticipation—
BOOM!
A sudden eruption of icy spikes burst violently from around Shirayuki's blade, like a queen defending her throne. The shockwave shattered nearby lotus petals and forced Xia Qingyue to skid back in retreat.
The crowd gasped.
The sword… was alive.
It was protecting itself.
Then—
"Sorry," Yun Che's voice rang coolly through the stage towards Qingyue. "Shirayuki isn't the type who lets just anyone touch her."
"That sword is like her body. Only the man—and the family—she trusts most can lay a hand on it."
A pause.
"Yuuki-sama! That's quite embarrassing!" a crystalline, angelic voice rang through his mind.
He chuckled inwardly.
"Isn't he right, Shirayuki?" came a second, sultrier voice—Kuroyuki, the elder sister. "You do trust him with your body. You said so."
"N-Nee-sama! This is not the time!" Shirayuki stammered, her voice flustered.
"We both entrusted our bodies to him… Ufuu…Onee-san won't mind." Kuroyuki teased, dripping amusement.
"Okay, you two," Yun Che sighed with a grin, sidestepping another of Qingyue's lotus storms.
"We'll talk about this later. Let me finish the fight with Qingyue first."
"Yuuki-sama, can't I just freeze her?" Shirayuki huffed. "That Xia Qingyue dares to call herself your wife."
"I know you're jealous because she is my wife," Yun Che muttered.
"I am! I'm already falling behind the women outside the Inner World!"
"And now that stranger of a woman tries to touch me! Not in a million years!" Shirayuki pouted.
"Just let me handle her, okay? After this, I promise—I'll spend time with both of you. As thanks for coming along today."
"Ufuu… We'll be waiting," Kuroyuki purred like warm snow.
"You better!" Shirayuki added quickly. "I've been practicing how to make biscuits!"
Yun Che exhaled slowly, raising his now-free hand toward Shirayuki. The sword twitched, the frost around it melting at his call, like a maiden responding to her beloved's voice.
The sword ripped itself out of the ground, ice ribbons trailing behind it—and flew into his waiting grip.
The temperature dropped again.
Xia Qingyue's shoulders tensed. The sword might be an extend of his own power. She began forming more lotuses. Each larger than the rest. If she can severe that sword from his hand. He just overwhelms him with a storm of lotuses.
As Shirayuki gently floated behind him, snowflakes dancing in her wake, Yun Che's eyes flicked toward the sky, then toward the hundreds of lotus flowers still shimmering above like a deadly aurora.
"This ice lotus storm," he muttered with faint irritation, "is getting annoying."
With a smooth motion, he reached for the next sword at his hip.
The audience stilled.