Purple lightning and blue flames clashed in a vibrant display of the two combatants’ power.

Liu Hua's usual lightning-fast speed was nowhere to be seen. Instead of an unstoppable bolt streaking across the battlefield, she appeared sluggish under the influence of Bing Hou’s cold flame.

But Bing Hou wasn’t faring any better. Dozens of violent bolts of lightning rained down from the stormy sky. She conjured thick walls of ice to shield herself, blocking their descent.

Each bolt struck the ice with enough force to send shards flying into the qi barriers like crystal rockets. Bing Hou struggled to maintain her defense under the relentless assault.

Encased within a fortress of ice, her cold flame burned overhead, casting waves of freezing qi into the air. It slowed Liu Hua, but did nothing to weaken her strength. At this rate, Bing Hou would run out of qi within the next half hour.

Gritting her teeth, she knew she had to act—but she didn’t yet know how.

Liu Hua didn’t give her the chance to figure it out.

In a flash, she darted across the small arena, leaving behind dozens of glowing purple currents of lightning in a precise pattern. The currents pulsed upward, connecting with the bolts above, forming a web of energy between the arena and the roiling clouds.

Inside her icy stronghold, Bing Hou gulped. The power gathering overhead was immense. She knew she couldn’t survive the full force of that lightning—not with ice walls alone.

She summoned her cold flame and let the ice around her melt away. Then, she lunged toward Liu Hua, choosing the only path she saw: a direct confrontation.

With her palm extended, flame flickering cold and fierce, she charged. Though she moved in a straight line, her footwork blurred her form—like she was weaving between two spaces at once.

Liu Hua stood still now, calmly watching her approach. The lightning array continued to build behind her.

Bing Hou made it halfway before an explosion rocked the stage, shaking the qi barriers so violently they flickered and nearly collapsed.

She froze.

In the sky, a ten-meter-long, thick as a bucket, bolt of lightning hovered ominously, its power suffocating.

“How’s that?” Liu Hua asked with a smirk. “Does this move qualify me as the strongest genius, or not?”

Bing Hou nodded quickly. “Sure… just… don’t drop that on me. I might actually die…”

Liu Hua tilted her head. “But you haven’t surrendered yet.”

“I surrender!” Bing Hou blurted, nearly biting her tongue.

“Winner, Liu Hua!”

As the battle ended, Liu Hua raised a hand toward the sky. The massive lightning bolt she'd summoned fell—straight onto her. A blinding flash of purple engulfed her, hiding her from view. When the light faded, she was gone from the arena.

“Each time Liu Hua takes the stage, she reveals more of her shocking strength!” Di Ti announced, earning a few chuckles for the pun. “Now, let’s welcome our next fighters—Ling Shi and Li Xue!”

With a crash, Ling Shi landed on the stage, half her face wrapped in bandages, only one eye visible.

A gust of wind signaled Li Xue’s arrival across from her.

“Can you fight like that?” Li Xue asked, laughing. “I don’t mind if you surrender now.”

“I can fight. No need to worry about me,” Ling Shi said with a smirk—half-hidden by the bandages, which only made it more menacing. “If I were you, I’d be the one worried. After all, you might not leave this stage alive.”

“I’m good,” Li Xue replied with a shrug.

“Are you both ready?” Elder Li asked from the side.

Li Xue gave a thumbs-up. Ling Shi nodded.

“Begin!”

The moment the barriers rose, Ling Shi exploded into motion. Her steps boomed like thunder against the arena floor.

Li Xue didn’t move. She stood relaxed, back lightly resting against the qi barrier behind her.

The crowd murmured in concern.

“What is Li Xue doing!?”

“She’s just standing there!”

“She’ll die if she keeps that up!”

“Maybe it’s a strategy?”

“Yeah, a death wish strategy!”

But Li Xue ignored their shouts. She watched Ling Shi charge in, her fist glowing with terrifying power.

“Die!” Ling Shi roared, slamming her punch toward Li Xue’s head.

At the last possible moment, Li Xue ducked and spun away, the punch missing by inches and smashing into the qi barrier with a thunderous boom.

Ling Shi followed up immediately, swinging her elbow down at Li Xue’s skull.

“Okay! I surrender!” Li Xue chirped cheerfully, giggling as she skipped backward.

“Winner, Ling Shi!” came the announcement.

The barriers fell, and Li Xue scampered off, still giggling to herself. Behind her, Ling Shi stood frozen mid-attack, feeling as if she’d just thrown her full power at a puff of cotton—leaving her momentum, and her pride, hanging in the air.

Jin Shu watched as Li Xue skipped up the steps to the elders’ platform, settling beside his mother with a cheerful giggle.

“So, how was it? Think that was fun enough?” she asked Sun Mei’er, still grinning.

“It was fun,” Sun Mei’er replied, laughing softly. “But if we had more time, I could’ve taught you plenty more ways to enjoy yourself.”

Jin Shu was about to keep listening, curious where that conversation might go, when he heard his name called for the next match. Distracted, he missed the announcement of his opponent.

Without thinking, he stepped into a ripple of qi and appeared on stage, calmly waiting.

He didn’t have to wait long.

Across from him, a jade-green-haired beauty took the stage—Fan Biyu.

Though only four opponents remained whom he hadn’t fought, her appearance still mildly surprised him.

“Wait!” a voice cried out from the crowd. “Wasn’t it supposed to be Senior Sister Tian Li’s match next?”

Di Ti, who had just stepped down from the stage, froze. “Oh… you’re right… oops. That’s my fault. I mixed up the order. But since Jin Shu and Fan Biyu are already on stage, I’ll allow this match to proceed now.”

The girl in the crowd nodded in acceptance, and the rest of the audience murmured their agreement.

“Looks like our match was meant to be the finale of this round,” Jin Shu said, turning to Biyu. “But I guess we’ll still have to give them a show. I hope you won’t hold back.”

“I won’t,” Biyu replied. “Just be sure you hold up your end of the bet when this is over.”

“Oh? You mean when you lose, I get to pick my reward?”

Biyu smirked, her confidence clear. Jin Shu met it with his own quiet certainty.

“Are you both ready?” Elder Li asked.

Biyu gave a nod. Jin Shu was about to do the same when Elder Li added, “Not going to use that weapon?”

He hesitated, glancing at Biyu.

“Use it,” she said firmly. “Or are you looking down on me?”

“No,” Jin Shu replied. “But… you might get hurt.”

“I would hope so. If not, it means you’re not taking me seriously.”

“…If you say so.” He sighed, withdrawing his riot shotgun from his earring. He calmly slid a new twenty-round magazine into place with a click.

“Now I’m ready.”

“Then… begin!”

Bang!

Jin Shu fired the moment the match began. The rubber slug rocketed across the arena, reaching Biyu in a blink—but a wall of flames erupted from the floor to meet it, melting the soft metal mid-air.

Bang!

A pepper spray round followed, colliding with the flames. The pollen-based powder combusted on contact, resulting in a sharp, violent explosion.

Jin Shu blinked, stunned. I didn’t expect it to be that volatile.

As the fire cleared, Biyu emerged coughing, her eyes red and watering from the lingering irritants.

Seeing an opening, Jin Shu stepped into a ripple, aiming to capitalize on her condition. But as he exited slipspace, a flaming fist loomed inches from his face.

He flinched, barely avoiding the strike by diving back into the still-open ripple.

Back in his original position, he scanned the arena. Biyu was still blinking away tears—but already charging at him, another flaming fist drawn back. She’d activated her clone technique mid-blink.

Bang!

He shot the charging figure. It burst apart into a scatter of flaming sparks—clearly not a durable clone. Still, it had bought her enough time.

“That stuff is irritating,” Biyu muttered, rubbing at her eyes.

“That’s kinda the point,” Jin Shu replied with a chuckle.

Bang!

He fired again, and this time, she didn’t risk blocking with flame. She sidestepped, the round whistling past and slamming into the qi barrier, discharging a crackle of lightning on contact.

Bang!

Another shot followed, bouncing harmlessly off the barrier as she dodged again. But now she was closing the distance, and Jin Shu had to keep moving, alternating fire between standard, pepper spray, and shock rounds. In return, Biyu began hurling fireballs.

Slower than his rounds, but they crossed the arena almost as fast.

He dodged, but his movements lagged slightly—he lacked a dedicated movement technique, and his robes caught a glancing burn.

With the opening she forced, Biyu closed the distance. Jin Shu slipped back into his ripple, reappearing on the opposite side of the stage.

Boom! A fireball greeted him immediately.

How are they doing that? he wondered, dodging with a hasty lean. How do they keep finding me?

He suspected the answer was simple: he’d been showing off too much. His technique had a flaw—one he hadn’t yet realized.

Another fireball came—then a wall of flame.

His eyes widened. There was no sidestepping that.

He entered slipspace again, but this time he waited. Stretching his senses beyond the veil, he found Biyu scanning the arena, clearly unsure of his location.

So she can only sense when I open a ripple?

To test the theory, he opened a ripple directly in front of her—just off to the side. She reacted instantly, attack readied.

Using that as a distraction, he opened a second ripple behind her and stepped through.

Foom! A fireball met him the moment he emerged, slamming into his face.

Reeling, he tried to retreat—only to find himself trapped, a ring of flames flaring up around him. His escape was sealed.

Panic flashed in his chest.

Then Biyu advanced.

And Jin Shu didn’t have time to think anymore.