The crowd leaned forward, the whispers fading into a tight silence. There was no mistaking it, this match was different.
Guo Tai was heavy-fisted, all brute force and bellowing pride. But Bei Xiyun?
She moved like a needle of wind through a still forest, silent, efficient, fatal.
She stepped into the arena without a sound, spear in hand, her eyes fixed on Jiang Yunfan with surgical focus. No mocking grin. No rising battle spirit. Just an intention so cold it chilled the heat from the stone beneath her boots.
Yunfan flicked blood off his zither string and gave her a slow nod, as if greeting a waitress who'd brought him the wrong soup.
"You here to kill me," he said casually, "or just permanently damage my dreams?"
"Neither," Bei Xiyun said, voice even. "I'm here to ensure you never climb again."
There was no warning.
The spear moved.
It was like wind had bent space itself, she was already in front of him, blade tip aiming directly for the gap beneath his ribs.
Yunfan moved an inch to the left.
The spear passed him in a perfect line so clean it sliced a thread from his robe without touching skin.
But the poison wind trailing it cut. His skin broke open with a hair-thin gash that sizzled faintly.
He exhaled, low.
"You use poison."
"You mock the Dao," she replied.
Yunfan's eyes narrowed just slightly. The grin was still there, but the air around him shifted less foolish. More storm.
Bei Xiyun circled.
She wasn't rushing this.
Her spear spun at her side like a silver branch in a hurricane, and Yunfan felt her Qi rise like a silent gale around the platform.
Wind-enhanced movement.
Poison-charged strikes.
A perfected sect-level technique designed to cripple.
She flicked the spear just once and wind blades shot out across the field.
Three. Five. Seven.
Each was laced with toxic Qi sharp enough to slice spirit threads.
Yunfan didn't block.
He played.
His fingers danced across a three-stringed zither coil hooked around his left wrist. Each tap released a soft note that shimmered in the air like falling droplets
And where each note landed, a glyph exploded, disrupting the incoming arcs with concussive blasts.
The last two wind blades veered off-course, slamming into the stone behind him.
"Music countering poison," she murmured.
"Rhythm makes you clumsy," Yunfan replied. "You're too used to swinging in silence."
"And you're used to hiding behind jokes."
She moved again.
This time she came in at a diagonal angle her spear swept low then spun, bringing the butt of it toward his temple.
Yunfan ducked, caught the shaft with his forearm, and dragged her closer.
With a twist of his fingers, he activated the glyph laced in the zither-wire on his wrist.
Thunder pulsed.
Bei Xiyun's eyes widened as a short-range shockwave traveled through the contact point, blasting her back across the arena floor in a burst of azure static.
She landed on her feet, but slid a full twenty paces.
Elder Thunderpeak leaned forward in his seat at the upper pavilion.
"He's not just stalling," he muttered. "He's testing her rhythm."
Another elder Elder Sima scowled.
"He's mocking the entire process."
"He's winning."
Back in the arena, Bei Xiyun swept her palm over her spear her poison aura darkened, going from jade green to venomous violet. Her wind pressure surged, warping the light in ripples.
"No more games," she said.
Yunfan dropped the zither.
His blade rose.
Wordless Edge, freshly tempered by the Silent Steel Pillar, vibrated faintly. The air around it buzzed with invisible force, humming with suppressed Sword Intent.
Yunfan's eyes lost their smile.
"Good," he said. "Because I've only shown the first beat."
She came.
Fast.
Deadly.
Her entire technique activated at once—Storm-Breaking Fang.
A triple-pointed thrust of spear, wind, and poison, meant to destroy spirit shields and pierce hearts with precision. She struck down
And Yunfan disappeared.
No flash.
No blink.
He was simply not there.
He reappeared behind her, sword already in motion.
A silent arc.
The edge passed her back
and didn't cut.
Instead, it left pressure behind.
She turned mid-spin to strike him
But her hands trembled.
The wind died.
Poison leaked uncontrolled from her Qi veins.
"What?"
"You're already cut," Yunfan said softly. "I just haven't let the pain catch up."
And then
the pressure hit her spine like a hammer.
She fell to one knee, gasping.
Blood ran from the corners of her mouth not from a wound, but from the internal backlash of her own Qi collapsing inward.
Yunfan didn't press.
He stood still, sword lowered.
"Still breathing," he said. "See? I'm merciful."
"You... humiliated me..."
"You were going to maim me."
"That was different."
Yunfan exhaled, then sheathed his blade.
"You weren't a bad fight," he said. "You just thought I was the joke."
He turned and walked away.
The arena was silent again.
Only when he reached the center pillar did the crowd remember to react.
Gasps. Shocked stares.
And from the outer ring
cheering.
Real cheering.
"Two down," Yunfan said, smiling as he shook the blood from his fingertips. "Hope the last one's not allergic to pain."