Biyu’s fire latched onto Bing Hou’s icy constructs, melting through them like the summer sun. But Bing Hou’s cold flame wasn’t so easily overcome. Everywhere it passed, it doused Biyu’s supposedly unquenchable true phoenix flames.

One of the three small phoenixes dove from the sky with a piercing screech, radiating searing heat and scattering sparks that reignited the scorched battlefield. The other two remained near Biyu, fending off the endless barrage of icy spears.

Their fierce back-and-forth continued for several long minutes, until finally, Biyu completed her technique—her gamble to break the stalemate.

Above her, flames began to condense into the shape of swords. Dozens appeared at first… then hundreds. Soon, over three hundred flaming blades hovered in the air, each forged from her true phoenix fire.

Bing Hou glanced up at the dazzling formation as the blades rotated in unison, their tips shifting from resting toward the ground to aiming directly at her. Her expression shifted—cool indifference replaced by solemn focus.

“I don’t have hundreds of swords,” she said quietly, reaching into her cold flame. “Only this one.”

She drew a longsword of pure ice from the swirling frost, then infused it with her cold flame, the blade taking on a faint bluish glow.

“Let’s see if yours can beat mine,” she said, raising the blade to chest level, its tip aimed at Fan Biyu across the field.

“It isn’t only the Phoenix Sword Formation,” Biyu replied, her voice steady. The three phoenixes above her flared brightly, then soared into the sky, joining the formation of flaming swords.

The crowd erupted.

“This is it! This moment will decide who comes out on top!”

“Go, Senior Sister Fan!”

“Go, Sister Bing!”

Cheers clashed and roared across the arena, a chant rising on either side of the stands, battling for dominance.

“Fan, Fan, Fan!”

“Bing, Bing, Bing!”

Both combatants glanced briefly at the crowd—each with very different expressions.

Biyu looked overwhelmed for a moment, until her gaze found the elders’ platform. She saw Jin Shu watching her, and her nerves steadied.

Bing Hou’s expression remained unreadable. She looked to the crowd with mild curiosity, as if unsure why they were cheering her name at all—then turned back to her opponent, calm and resolute.

In unison, both women faced forward, their eyes locked.

“Go!” Biyu shouted, thrusting her hand forward.

The flaming swords shot toward Bing Hou in a storm of fire and heat, the phoenixes screeching as they dove beside them—an inferno aimed to consume everything in its path, with Biyu at its center, conducting the chaos like a maestro of destruction.

As the deadly formation closed in, Bing Hou swung her sword.

A long wave of pale-blue flame swept out from the blade, washing over the phoenix fire and withering it instantly. The flaming swords flickered, their structure breaking down beneath the cold. When her blade struck the nearest cluster, they shattered like fragile glass, scattering into harmless sparks.

Hundreds of swords were reduced to a few dozen in seconds.

The crowd's cheers reached a fever pitch.

“Bing Hou is too strong!”

“How was Fan Biyu holding up so well before, but falling apart now?”

“Can't you see? She’s pale—she’s shaking. Her qi must be dried up!”

“Really? But aren’t they both 9th Stage Core Realms?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Fan Biyu’s technique eats up more qi?”

As speculation rippled through the arena, Bing Hou moved again.

She swept her sword in a wide arc, releasing another flood of frigid flame. The remaining swords vanished beneath the wave, disintegrating. Two of the three phoenixes dissolved in its wake.

The last phoenix, flickering and dim, dove under the icy tide and detonated just inches from Bing Hou.

A blinding cloud of fire exploded outward, swallowing her in light and heat.

The crowd gasped.

“What happened?!”

“Is Sister Bing okay?”

“Did she lose?”

“No! Look!”

A spectator pointed as the smoke began to thin, revealing a silhouette behind the dissipating flames.

Bing Hou stood unharmed, encased in a crystalline shell of ice—like a translucent coffin. The last traces of phoenix flame hissed and evaporated off the icy barrier, unable to breach its surface.

When the last embers faded, the ice cracked with a sharp sound, and Bing Hou stepped free—her cold, serene beauty unscathed. Her sword was gone. So was her cold flame.

But she didn’t need them.

Fan Biyu collapsed against the arena barrier, panting, her body trembling with exhaustion.

Elder Li raised her hand, her voice firm. “Winner: Bing Hou!”

Bing Hou continued advancing toward Biyu, but no one in the crowd was concerned. Despite her overwhelming victory, there was no fear she’d strike a wounded opponent. She was far too dignified—and far too prideful—to stoop so low.

She stopped before Biyu just as the healers climbed onto the stage.

“Why were you so weak?” she asked bluntly, her voice amplified by the arena’s formation to echo across the stadium.

A few gasps rippled through the crowd, but most were too stunned to react.

Biyu looked up at the cold-faced woman and laughed.

Bing Hou’s brow furrowed. “Did I say something funny?”

“You did,” Biyu said with a nod. “You’re asking why my attacks lacked power, but the way you phrased it… it sounds like you're rhetorically asking why I was no match for you.”

Bing Hou blinked, then her expression softened slightly. “Oh… that wasn’t my intention. I was simply curious why you seemed lacking during our fight.”

Biyu laughed again, a warm, carefree sound. “You’re doing it again.”

“Am I?” Bing Hou looked genuinely confused. “My mother and father always told me I need to work on my communication.”

“It’s fine. I understand,” Biyu replied, rising to her feet and waving the approaching healers away. She wasn’t injured—just drained. “I used most of my qi before the match. Otherwise… things might’ve gone differently between us.”

“I see,” Bing Hou said with a small nod. Seemingly satisfied, she turned and walked off the stage without another word.

Biyu watched her go and chuckled once more. “What a strange girl.”

With their conversation concluded, the formation screen above the arena flickered, then shifted to reveal the joyfully smiling face of Elder Di Ti.

“That fiery battle brings our semi-final ranking match to a close! Now, we move to the finale—our final match of the entire tournament: Liu Hua versus Jin Shu!” she announced brightly. “We’ll give the two a moment to prepare—and wish them both an exciting, but safe, match.”

She cast a pointed glance up at the elders’ platform—specifically at Jin Shu—when she emphasized the last line.

Jin Shu smiled sheepishly.

He had no intention of repeating his performance against Bing Hou—especially not the part where a childhood trauma chose that exact moment to rise from the grave and punch him in the face.

Still, in hindsight, it felt… silly. Sun Li had been a child, too. Neither of them had known what they were doing back then. It wasn't malicious. It had left a mark, sure—but now that it had come and gone, he wasn’t about to let it define him.

What was bothering him more, at the moment, was how annoyed he was about still being in disguise. It wasn’t that serious—just an irritation that was starting to itch beneath his skin. He was ready to be done with it, and soon.

But first, there was someone he needed to see.

He waited at the top of the stairs for Biyu.

She didn’t keep him waiting long. She trudged up to the platform, pale but recovering a little more color in her cheeks with each step.

He moved to meet her and helped her into a seat. “Thank you,” he whispered.

She gave him a tired but radiant smile. “Thank me by never doing that again,” she replied, serious despite her fatigue.

“I don’t plan on it,” he said with a nod, his tone equally sincere. “And I will thank you properly—later. For now, I’ve got to go show Liu Hua who’s boss.”

“Careful she doesn’t show you what the floor tastes like,” Biyu said, chuckling.

He chose to ignore that—mostly because she might be right and he didn’t have a good comeback.

Glancing up, he caught Liu Hua watching him from across the platform, a slow, amused smirk on her face.

I look forward to you ‘showing me who’s boss’, her voice whispered in his mind—teasing, laced with a seductive edge.

For someone who hadn’t even known what sex was a few weeks ago, she was disturbingly good at using that tone. It didn’t make his heart race—it made his skin crawl. Not in the flustered way, but in the “succubus about to drain your soul” kind of way.

Which, honestly, might not be that far off.

He shivered involuntarily—but steadied himself. Whatever tricks she had, he'd face them head-on.

He stepped through the ripple and entered the arena. Thunder rumbled overhead. A moment later, Liu Hua appeared across from him in a flash of light.

“Last time, you couldn’t even survive a palm,” she said, loud enough for the entire stadium to hear. “Should I go easy on you this time?”