The crowd erupted the moment the announcer declared the next match.
Excitement rippled through the arena, especially from the women among the audience. As the only female participant in the entire Moon Empress Tomb Selection, the mysterious woman known as Li Yue instantly became the symbol of every woman watching — strength, courage, and defiance embodied in a single figure.
No one knew who she was or where she came from. Dressed in a hooded black robe that veiled her from head to toe, she concealed everything except her sharp, glimmering eyes. Only the faint outline of her graceful form — and the two unmistakable curves beneath her cloak — hinted that beneath that anonymity stood a woman of striking presence.
When she stepped onto the arena stage, every gaze turned toward her. The crowd whispered her name with awe and curiosity, trying to guess her origins. A lone woman entering a tournament meant for powerful clan elders and sect masters — without any banner or backing — could only mean one thing: her confidence came from absolute strength.
Even Yun Che, sitting under the guise of Dracule Mihawk, watched her closely. It wasn't her beauty that caught his attention — it was her composure. The stillness. The quiet pride of someone who didn't need recognition to prove her worth.
A lone woman… entering a Sky Profound selection without support? Interesting.
In the VIP room, Kon squinted his button eyes at the stage.
"Who's the pretty woman? Any of you girls recognize her?"
Cang Yue shook her head. "No… I don't think I've ever seen her before."
Retsu's calm voice followed, her eyes glowing faintly with her new vision. "I thought she might be Sister YueChan, but her energy is different. Whoever she is, she's strong — and confident enough to stand alone."
"She's not what she seems," Retsu added, her gaze sharpening. "The age pearl may have read her as Sky Profound, but the energy flowing beneath that necklace…" She paused, lips curling slightly. "It's Emperor Profound, Seventh Level. That trinket of hers hides her true cultivation well — but not from me."
Mio tilted her head. "Sister YueChan? Who's that?"
Cang Yue smiled softly. "Someone we met before the Dragon God Trial. A dear friend. Yuu-kun asked her to return to her sect to avoid suspicion."
Mio's expression softened for a heartbeat — before a mischievous thought flickered through her mind.
A 'dear friend,' huh? Danna-sama really does have a talent for charming women… Looks like I'll just have to double my efforts.
She smiled faintly, eyes glinting as she turned back to the arena, where Li Yue now stood — poised, silent, and ready to face the Burning Heaven Clan's elder before the eyes of the empire.
And somewhere above, Hawk Eyes watched her like a hawk — curious to see what kind of power this mysterious lone fairy would reveal.
As the girls whispered their theories in the VIP room, Yun Che's eyes never left the stage.
"Strange…" he thought, gaze narrowing beneath the brim of his hat.
"I feel a sense of familiarity from this woman. She's not Little Fairy — I know her energy by heart — and she's not Qingyue either. But…"
He paused, his spiritual sense brushing faintly against her aura.
"I've felt this energy before… faint, but distinct. Hiding it that well means she came here prepared. Even her name — Li Yue — it's too clean, too deliberate. She's masking her true identity."
On the stage, Li Yue stood at the center, her movements calm and unhurried.
Her black cloak rippled lightly in the wind, her blade drawn and angled before her in silence.
Her opponent soon stepped in — a middle-aged man with the Burning Heaven Clan's insignia emblazoned across his back.
Yun Che's golden eyes narrowed slightly.
"Fen Zhong," he muttered under his breath.
"Twenty-seventh elder of the Burning Heaven Clan, a Peak Sky Profound Realm cultivator. System says he's supposed to die during my raid on the clan later on. Never thought I'd see him this early."
Fen Zhong grinned, his lips twisting into a mockery of charm.
"To see such a beautiful doll standing across from me," he purred, "how about a small favor before we begin? Remove your mask, fair lady — let us admire the beauty beneath."
Li Yue didn't flinch. Her tone was calm, detached.
"Thank you for the compliment, kind sir," she said quietly. "But that won't be necessary."
He chuckled darkly.
"Ah, perhaps this is your last chance to let the world know who you are. Even if you lose, at least you'll have your dignity intact."
"Don't worry," she replied coldly. "I won't lose."
Fen Zhong's grin faltered for a heartbeat, then twisted into a sneer.
"You'll regret those words, woman. When I tear that robe from your body, you'll have no choice but to—"
"You wish," she cut him off sharply. "Save your breath. Speak again after I've defeated you."
The spectators gasped at her audacity. Even Fen Zhong was momentarily stunned — then he smirked again, his pride stung.
"As you wish, fair lady."
The two vanished in a flash.
Clang!
The sound of colliding blades echoed across the arena, reverberating through the barrier formations.
Both figures stood locked in place — blades pressed together, sparks scattering between them.
But then the crowd noticed something odd.
Fen Zhong's boots scraped against the stone.
Li Yue only took one step back.
Her footing held firm. Her sword — still steady in her grasp — didn't even tremble.
Fen Zhong's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Tch… half my strength, and she didn't even flinch?"
He broke away, jumping back a few paces, face tightening.
"It seems the fair lady has some skill after all."
His tone was mocking, but the tension in his grip betrayed him.
He knew that strike had been enough to crush most Sky Profound opponents. Yet the mysterious woman before him — cloaked and silent — had deflected it as if she'd expected every motion.
Yun Che's lips curved slightly from the stands.
"Not bad…" he thought. "Her form's fluid. She's not just defending — she's measuring him. Calm, efficient… whoever she is, she's a seasoned fighter."
Fen Zhong snarled, his pride bleeding into fury.
"Then let's see whether you have the skill to repel this!"
He stepped back, raising his sword high as flames began to swirl around him, crackling with growing intensity.
"Hmph, fair lady you may be, but there's no way you—"
SHING!
BOOM!
Before he could even finish his sentence, Li Yue moved.
A flash of silver light — and she was already upon him, her sword slashing forward in a graceful, fluid arc.
Fen Zhong barely managed to raise his blade in time. Sparks exploded between them as steel met steel.
"You—! I wasn't finished—!"
Her voice cut through his protest, cool and sharp as frost.
"If you have the chance to break your opponent's momentum," she said quietly, "why would you waste it?"
Up in the stands, Yun Che froze.
His breath caught for an instant beneath the brim of his hat.
Wait… those words…
He knew that tone. That calm, unshakable certainty.
Someone had said those exact same words to him before.
Don't tell me—
Down below, Fen Zhong let out a harsh laugh, his anger mixing with fear.
"Heh… such arrogance! Fine then — let's see you block this!"
He thrust his sword skyward, profound energy igniting like an inferno.
"Burning Heaven Arts: Seafaring Flame Dragon!"
Flames coiled around his body, twisting into a roaring blaze that split the air. The ground beneath him scorched black as a colossal dragon of fire burst forth from his blade, its jaws wide and fangs glowing white-hot.
The dragon's roar filled the arena, its heat distorting the air as it surged straight toward Li Yue.
The spectators cried out in alarm —
"That's the Burning Heaven Clan's Seafaring Flame Dragon!"
"He's using a killing art in the tournament! Is he insane?!"
They all knew — once unleashed, that dragon hunted its target. Dodging it was nearly impossible.
But Li Yue didn't move to defend.
Instead, she shifted her weight slightly — and vanished.
Her form blurred, then reappeared a heartbeat later, sliding along the side of the fiery dragon. The audience could barely follow her as she sidestepped through the flames with perfect timing, her sword glinting like a silver crescent.
The dragon's fiery maw snapped shut just inches behind her as she curved around its flank — her movement so fluid it seemed almost choreographed.
Fen Zhong's eyes went wide.
"What—how did—?!"
Before he could react, she was already there — closing in from his blind spot.
Her sword gleamed once, a clean, unbroken motion.
SHING!
Fen Zhong barely raised his weapon in time. The impact sent him skidding backward across the arena floor, his arm trembling from the force.
Yun Che's eyes widened the instant Li Yue moved.
That step—That blur—
It wasn't just speed. It was familiar.
From across the arena, another pair of glowing blue eyes flared to life. Retsu's eagle vision activated on instinct as she focused in on Li Yue's form. Both of them, at the same time, whispered the same thought.
"The Table Hopper…?! How does she know that move?!"
SMASH!
Li Yue's blade came down in a powerful arc, slamming against Fen Zhong's sword with a thunderous crack. The impact sent a wave of energy rippling across the arena, shaking the barrier formations.
Fen Zhong barely managed to block — but his eyes went wide as pain exploded through his wrist. His arms trembled, his hands going numb from the sheer force behind her strike.
Behind them, the flaming dragon he had summoned crashed against the barrier and dispersed in a burst of crimson sparks.
When the dust settled, both fighters had returned to the center of the stage — but Fen Zhong now stood precariously close to the arena's edge, sweat beading down his temples.
The audience erupted.
"Did you see that?!""She pushed back the Burning Heaven elder!"
"First Hawk Eyes, now this mysterious fairy — both of them came out of nowhere!"
"And they're both lone cultivators! Not even the great clans can match their skill!"
Another man shouted, voice thick with disbelief.
"That movement just now — she blurred to the side before the fire dragon struck! No human could time that perfectly!"
"Impossible! Even if she jumped, the dragon would've followed — but she slipped past it at the last moment! That wasn't evasion… it was prediction!"
"A woman who can evade a Burning Heaven art head-on… she's the real dark horse of this selection!"
But for Yun Che and Retsu, the cheers were a distant hum. Their minds were elsewhere — fixed on that single move.
Yun Che's golden eyes narrowed beneath the shadow of his hat.
"That was the Table Hopper… no doubt about it."
The Table Hopper — a technique he had personally adapted from one of the games in his past life. A move that defied logic itself: allowing the user to sidestep an attack at the last possible instant by devouring their aura, moving at a speed faster than perception, effectively vanishing for a heartbeat.
It was a desperate maneuver — a dance between life and death — and only a handful could execute it perfectly.
Even Retsu, with her flawless precision, had needed three full days to master five consecutive jump slides. Most could barely do one.
And yet… Li Yue had just done it — smoothly, naturally, with no hesitation.
Yun Che's thoughts raced.
"I only taught two people that technique — Retsu… and Little Fairy."
He clenched his fist slightly.
"But this woman's aura isn't hers. Not even close. So how—?"
His mind spun, analyzing every detail — the fluid sword form, the reaction speed, the discipline in her movements.
"If she learned that move, then she either trained directly under one of them…""Or she's someone they trusted enough to pass it down."
He leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing with intrigue.
"Either way," he thought quietly, "this Li Yue isn't just some hidden master. She's connected… to her."
Fen Zhong staggered near the edge of the arena, his chest heaving.
The Burning Heaven Elder's eyes burned with disbelief. The Seafaring Flame Dragon he had unleashed — a technique capable of incinerating most Sky Profound experts — had been evaded.
By a single woman.
If he hadn't raised his sword at the last second, that counterstrike would have sent him flying off the stage.
He tightened his grip, jaw clenching.
"Hmph… little girl," he growled, his pride bleeding through his words.
"Looks like you really want me to get serious."
His aura flared violently, the ground beneath him cracking from the heat. Flames burst from his body as he raised his sword high.
"You will face this next strike with pride," he declared, his tone cold and solemn. "Even if it kills you… take it as an honor to fall beneath the Burning Heaven Arts!"
The air around him shimmered from the rising heat.
Flames roared upward as his Burning Heaven Sword ignited into a pillar of fire.
Across the stage, Li Yue's cloak fluttered as a surge of cold air rippled from her body, countering the heat. The edge of her robe lifted slightly, revealing the black battle attire underneath — simple, elegant, and unmistakably refined.
Yun Che's eyes narrowed sharply from the stands.
He felt it.
That unmistakable chill.
"Cold aura…?"
His pupils contracted.
"So I was right. She's an ice profound cultivator. That means she's from Frozen Cloud Asgard."
His thoughts raced.
"But she's not Little Fairy… and she's not Qingyue. Then who—?"
He clenched his fist under his coat.
"She came here in secret. That much is clear. Whoever she is, she doesn't want anyone to recognize her."
On the arena floor, Fen Zhong's aura reached its peak. The entire stage was glowing red from the heat, the air thick with smoke and fire.
"You'll never live to tell the tale!" he roared.
"Take this! Burning Heaven—SLA—"
Swoosh!
He didn't finish.
A sudden gust of wind sliced through the roaring heat.
Li Yue vanished.
The next instant, she appeared directly in front of him — so close that the flames around his sword guttered from the shockwave of her arrival.
"What—?!"
He didn't even have time to react.
Her sword flashed.
A clean, precise strike — not a flourish, not a technique, just pure, decisive intent.
BOOM!
The impact thundered through the entire arena.
Fen Zhong's body shot backward, blood spraying from his lips as his sword shattered on impact. The towering fire pillar he had conjured collapsed in on itself, bursting into fading embers.
His body slammed into the barrier wall, cracking it before he crumpled to the ground — unconscious, defeated, and humiliated.
Silence.
Then the crowd erupted.
"She—she actually won!"
"That elder from the Burning Heaven Clan just got flattened!"
"She didn't even give him a chance to use his technique!"
"The mysterious fairy… she's terrifying!"
Up in the VIP room, Mio exhaled, crossing her arms.
"Wow. She didn't hesitate for a second," she said, a faint smirk forming. "That guy's weakness was obvious — all his attacks are long-channeling. If she struck at that moment, that was the perfect window."
Kon perched on her shoulder, nodding vigorously.
"Exactly! Why waste time blocking fancy techniques when you can just beat the hell out of the caster instead?"
Retsu chuckled softly, eyes still glowing faintly blue.
"Practical and ruthless… whoever this Li Yue is, she knows how to fight."
Below, Yun Che's golden eyes followed the cloaked woman as she sheathed her sword. She turned her head slightly, as though sensing his gaze, but said nothing.
Her aura was calm again, her breathing steady — as if the fight hadn't even happened.
"An ice profound cultivator using my movement art…" Yun Che thought quietly, his voice a low murmur beneath the noise of the cheering crowd.
"You've piqued my interest, Li Yue. I'll find out who you are… soon."
On the arena floor, Fen Zhong staggered, clutching his chest as another wave of blood burst from his lips. The incomplete channeling of his flame art had backfired, tearing through his meridians.
Across from him, Li Yue exhaled softly and slid her sword back into its sheath. Her steps were light and unhurried as she turned to leave the stage — her composure the picture of calm.
Until—
"YOU COWARD!"
Fen Zhong's roar echoed through the barrier, raw and hoarse.
"You dare interrupt my technique?! Only a coward would strike before it's finished!"
Li Yue didn't even look back.
"Hmph," she replied, her voice low and muffled beneath her mask, carrying a chill sharper than her blade."Why would I wait for an attack I can end? I'm no fool, nor am I as arrogant as you. I fight to win — not to entertain."
With that, she descended from the stage, her robe fluttering faintly with every step.
Yun Che's eyes narrowed from the stands. Even from this distance, he could sense her profound energy fluctuating wildly — unstable, scattered.
"Her flow's disrupted…" he thought. "The Table Hopper taxed her too much. She's not fully accustomed to it yet."
That confirmed it — she hadn't mastered the technique, only learned it.
Fen Zhong's furious glare faltered. His body trembled as another cough wracked him, spewing fresh blood across the stage before he finally collapsed, unconscious.
"The twenty-seventh elder is down!" shouted a Burning Heaven escort elder. "Get him out of here — quickly! The sect master won't take this lightly."
Disciples rushed onto the stage to carry him away. But no matter how swiftly they moved, they couldn't carry off the humiliation that now clung to their sect's name.
The mighty Burning Heaven Clan, one of the empire's strongest pillars, had just been defeated by an unknown woman — and in the very first round.
The arena buzzed with wild voices.
"The Burning Heaven elder… lost!?""To a mysterious woman, no less!"
"Frozen Cloud Asgard… could she be one of them?"
"Whoever she is, she's stronger than any of those arrogant fools!"
The announcer's shaky voice broke through the uproar:
"T-The match is decided! Fairy Li Yue secures victory! With that, the first-round matches conclude! The remaining thirty-two will now advance to the next stage!"
He raised a trembling hand toward the arena chart.
"For the second stage, match-ups will no longer be random! Each winner will face the victor of the match following theirs. The winner of Match One will battle the winner of Match Two… and so forth!"
The crowd nodded in understanding as the formations shifted overhead, displaying the new brackets.
Yun Che's golden eyes flicked toward the names. He calculated quickly.
"I was the twentieth match… so my next opponent will be the victor of the nineteenth. That should place me in the tenth bracket for the third round."
He leaned back, arms crossed.
"Li Yue's in the sixteenth. Even if we both win straight through, our paths won't cross until the tomb itself."
A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
"Fine. I'll find her there. Whoever she is, I'll get my answers inside the Moon Empress's Tomb… and learn who she really is — and why she knows my technique."
Yun Che's gaze slid across the arena and landed on the winner of the nineteenth match — his next opponent: an elder from the Northern stronghold, the Heavenly Spear Thunderfire Fortress. The man's name was Mu Jiu.
From the System's trivial file Yun Che had casually skimmed earlier, Mu Jiu was no joke. The Thunderfire Fortress had sent disciples who later rose to Earth Profound ranks during the Empire's Ranking Tournament — a sect that bred fighters who could crush careers and reputations. In the original story Mu Jiu's faction had once tried to recruit Yun Che; the memory flickered against Yun Che's lips like a private, grim amusement. Back then he'd been hunted — this time the roles were reversed. He would be the hunter.
Mu Jiu met his stare with a calm curiosity. He had witnessed the bizarre knockout of Qin Wu and the strange displays from the dark horses, but he didn't flinch. Pride, training, or simple confidence — it didn't matter. Yun Che felt the assessing gaze of a man used to measuring threats. Good. That made the game interesting.
As the second stage began, the atmosphere turned electric. The fights escalated in ferocity: aerial clashes, collapsing shockwaves, sword arts that bent the light. The protective formations flared and groaned as elders pushed techniques to their limits, each exchange a public accounting of a sect's honor. Some matches ended in spectacular ruin; others in ignoble surrender. Still, the crowd stayed — transfixed, hungry for the final eight who would breach the Moon Empress's teleportation array.
Yun Che could feel it — a thousand eyes on him like teeth. The spectators split between admiration and thinly veiled predatory intent; the great clans watched like sharks smelling blood. The same attention had already fallen on Li Yue — the mysterious woman whose sidestep and cold aura had turned the arena on its head. Now both of them were dark horses to be courted, bought, or neutralized — valuable assets in an empire hungry for advantage.
When the ninth match announced, the roar rose again. This one mattered: the Heavenly Sword Villa, hosts of the upcoming Blue Wind Ranking Tournament, had sent Ling Hai, a political elder known for sweeping alliances and bending smaller sects to his will. He cut his opponent down with contemptuous ease, the crowd murmuring his reputation like a warning.
Yun Che watched the bracket shift. Ling Hai's victory set him later against the winner of another match — and if fate arranged it, Yun Che would give the Sword Villa a message they wouldn't forget. He smiled beneath his hat, the expression unreadable from a distance. He wasn't here merely to win; he was here to mark the turning of tides — to embarrass a few proud faces, send ripples up the hierarchy, and make sure the Empire remembered the name behind the black hat.
He adjusted his posture, eased his hand toward Yoru, and let the cool weight of the blade settle in his mind like a promise.
"Hmph, the famous elder of the Heavenly Sword Villa, Ling Hai versus the so-called Great Swordsman, Dracule Mihawk," Yun Che murmured inwardly, his tone dripping with quiet amusement. "How ironic… but that's the way I like it."
Before he could deliver that message, though, one obstacle stood in his way.
"Fellow citizens!" the announcer's voice rang across the arena, heavy with excitement. "We have now reached our tenth match, one of the most anticipated battles of this round! Please welcome to the stage the mysterious swordsman, Dracule Mihawk, versus Mu Jiu of the Heavenly Spear Thunderfire Fortress!"
This time, Yun Che didn't vanish in a blur of teleportation. He jumped — one clean, measured leap that carried him from his seat to the center of the arena, coat flaring lightly around him as he landed. The motion drew a collective gasp from the crowd; the stillness that followed was heavier than the sound.
Hands tucked into his pockets, he walked forward at a leisurely pace, his golden eyes half-lidded, utterly calm. Opposite him, Elder Mu Jiu stepped into the ring with the surefootedness of a veteran warrior. His weapon style was peculiar — one hand gripping a curved sword, the other a smaller war hammer. A hybrid of grace and brute force.
Interesting, but hardly impressive.
Now face to face, both men locked eyes — calm against defiance, silence against pride.Far above them, Li Yue's gaze followed the swordsman's every step. The other dark horse had entered the field.
Mu Jiu was the first to speak, his tone cautious but steady.
"Dracule Mihawk… quite a name you have there. Not one I've heard in the Profound Sky Continent. Are you from some hidden clan, perhaps?"
Yun Che didn't open his eyes. His voice came low and smooth, the perfect echo of Mihawk's measured arrogance.
"Not quite. I am simply someone who has no interest in the petty matters of this world."
"No interest?" Mu Jiu raised a brow. "Then why stand here today, of all places?"
"Because," Yun Che answered, finally meeting his gaze, "the tomb holds something I want. Nothing more."
"Oh?" Mu Jiu's lips curved slightly. "And what might that be?"
Yun Che tilted his head faintly.
"Why should I tell you?"
That answer rippled through the crowd like cold steel.
Mu Jiu chuckled once, then sighed.
"As expected of a man who hides from the world — full of pride, full of mystery. Still, I admire that strength. I too seek something within the tomb, and I can't have competition standing in my way. But…"
He paused, lifting his hammer slightly.
"…I am not blind to talent when I see it."
Then, to everyone's shock, he extended his hand.
"Dracule Mihawk — join us. The Heavenly Spear Thunderfire Fortress would welcome a man of your caliber. Alone, you are dangerous. With us, you could be unstoppable."
The arena fell dead silent.
From the stands, whispers erupted.
"He's recruiting him? Here? In the middle of the selection?"
"Smart move — strike while the iron's hot!"
"If Mihawk accepts, the Fortress would overshadow every clan in the empire. Even the Sword Villa would feel the pressure!"
Every sect leader in the stands went rigid. The City Lord's expression darkened; the elders from other factions exchanged nervous glances. If the fortress succeeded in recruiting either dark horse — let alone both — they could shift the entire balance of the empire overnight.
Yun Che, however, only smiled faintly under the brim of his hat.
"I am not interested."
Yun Che's reply came instantly — sharp and cold, like a blade through silence.
The rejection echoed across the arena. For a heartbeat, everything froze. The mighty elder of the Heavenly Spear Thunderfire Fortress — publicly rebuked.
Mu Jiu's expression twisted. He had humbled himself, extended an offer from one of the empire's strongest sects… only to be dismissed like an insect.
"You… you could at least join us as a guest," Mu Jiu tried, forcing a smile to salvage his pride. "We won't bind you. You'd be free to—"
"Like I said," Yun Che interrupted without even looking at him, "not interested."
The crowd erupted. Gasps, murmurs, disbelief — a tidal wave of noise. The strongest sect beneath the Four Great Sects, rejected twice.
"Who does he think he is?"
"He just turned down the Thunderfire Fortress!"
"Is he insane, or just that arrogant?"
But Yun Che didn't move. Didn't flinch. Didn't even blink.
Mu Jiu's face darkened. His hand trembled as he drew both weapons — the curved blade in one hand, the short war hammer in the other. Lightning crackled faintly along the hammer's surface, the air around him thick with tension.
"Then you leave me no choice," he growled, sliding into stance. "It's a waste that your talent ends here."
Yun Che tilted his head slightly, a faint smile ghosting across his lips.
"A foolish man indeed. Talking about waste before you've even proven you can touch me."
He stood as still as a statue — unguarded, one hand resting lazily at his side.
Mu Jiu gritted his teeth. "You dare underestimate me like that Qin fool? Draw your weapon, swordsman! If you call yourself one, meet me blade to blade!"
Yun Che considered him, eyes half-lidded beneath the brim of his hat.
"You overestimate yourself," he said softly. "But… you are right about one thing."
The crowd leaned forward as he raised a hand.
"It has been a while since I saw someone foolish enough to dual-wield a sword and a hammer."
Then, instead of reaching for the massive black sword behind his back, Yun Che lifted his hand toward his chest — and unclasped the dagger-shaped pendant hanging around his neck. A whisper of steel hissed as he drew the tiny blade from its sheath.
The arena went silent.
Mu Jiu's jaw clenched. "Oi… what is the meaning of this?"
Yun Che regarded the dagger casually, turning it once between his fingers.
"You asked me to use a weapon," he replied coolly. "So I did."
"I meant that sword behind you!"
"You?" Yun Che's gaze sharpened, a glint of yellow beneath his hat brim. "You don't possess the power to make me draw that blade. I'm already honoring you by using this one."
He pointed the small dagger downward.
"Besides — any man who calls himself a swordsman yet wields a hammer… isn't worth my sword."
The words hit like thunder. The crowd collectively sucked in a breath.
Mu Jiu's fury exploded.
"Then let me show you whether I have the power to force it out!"
Lightning erupted around him. Blue arcs crawled up his hammer, dancing violently as flames ignited around his sword. The fusion of thunder and fire roared into a blinding storm as he charged — a streak of incandescent rage tearing across the arena.
He closed the distance in a blink, hammer raised high.
"DIE!"
The strike came down with the weight of thunder and the blaze of a meteor—
BOOM!
The arena shuddered as Mu Jiu's thunder-fire hammer smashed down toward Yun Che's face, a flash of light and smoke consuming the center stage.
The crowd gasped — the explosion's roar still echoing off the barrier.
"He hit him!"
"The elder landed a strike!"
For a moment, the arena buzzed with disbelief. Even Qin Wu hadn't managed to touch the mysterious swordsman.
"Hmph, in the end, you were just—"
Mu Jiu's voice froze in his throat as the smoke thinned.
The figure standing before him was untouched. The blast-wave had faded, and there stood Yun Che — utterly unmoved, his coat unruffled, one arm raised lazily. The tip of his small dagger pressed against the head of Mu Jiu's thunder-fire hammer, stopping it cold.
The crowd fell silent.
An attendant from the City Lord's pavilion leapt to his feet. "Did—did he just block a full-power strike with a dagger?!"
The City Lord's eyes narrowed, the corners of his lips curling faintly. "In the previous match, he stopped a sword with one finger," he said coolly. "You're surprised he stopped a hammer?"
"But my lord, the Thunderfire's techniques—"
"Are formidable, yes," the City Lord murmured, eyes glittering. "Which only makes him more valuable. Whatever it takes, recruit that man. We will not let such a monster slip away."
On the arena floor, Mu Jiu retreated several paces, disbelief and fury swirling in his eyes.
"You… that dagger— it's stronger than I thought. Even if your skill is high, a weapon must share its master's limits! What grade is that thing?"
Yun Che's tone was calm, almost bored. "This? Merely something I forged myself. Leftover scraps."
"You crafted it yourself?" Mu Jiu's expression twisted in shock. "A swordsman and a craftsman? Then that black sword behind you— don't tell me—"
"Of course," Yun Che interrupted smoothly.
The implication hit like thunder. A weapon of that grade, forged by his own hands — the crowd erupted again, greed and awe flickering through every sect leader's eyes.
Mu Jiu's grip tightened around his weapons. "Tch… then every sect here will fight to claim you."
Yun Che's gaze hardened. "They can try."
Mu Jiu growled, his lightning aura flaring back to life. "We might stand at the same realm, but you overestimate yourself!"
He launched forward again — thunder and flame entwined as his dual weapons struck in a deadly dance.
Cling! Cling! Cling!
The sounds of steel meeting steel rang like a rhythm of futility.
Mu Jiu attacked high, low, from the air — hammer crashing down, sword slicing across — but every motion met the same end: the delicate dagger flicking his weapons aside with inhuman precision. Each strike deflected, every angle predicted before it even began.
The spectators leaned forward, stunned.
"He's not even moving…"
"He hasn't taken a single step!"
Indeed — Yun Che still stood in the exact spot where the fight began. His posture never broke; his coat barely fluttered. The daggers' gleam traced effortless parries, as if the outcome had already been written.
Up in the VIP room, a soft, knowing laugh escaped Retsu's lips.
"Fufu… he's doing it again."
Her eyes glowed faintly with amusement as she watched the same scene she'd once created herself — elegance disguising annihilation during their skirmish in New Moon City.
"Why does this feel familiar?" Cang Yue murmured, eyes glued to the stage.
"Familiar?" Kon blinked. "Isn't this the first time he used that dagger?"
Retsu's lips curved. "No — I used a thrown blade like that before. It parried sword strikes the same way." She reached over and patted Cang Yue's head with a soft smile.
Kon sighed, half in awe, half in complaint. "Sigh… you monsters just keep getting stronger every day."
On the arena floor, Mu Jiu's face had gone ashen with fury. He collapsed to one knee, chest heaving from the strain of channeling Thunderfire only to be outmaneuvered and stalled by a single dagger.
"This is—" he roared, voice cracking, "not fair! I wield a superior-grade hammer and sword and yet—" He spat blood, humiliated before thousands. For the second time that day, a sect elder had been made into a joke by an unknown swordsman.
Yun Che sheathed the dagger and hung it back around his neck with casual precision. His voice was quiet, but it carried in the hush that followed.
"A true swordsman can make any blade sing. Even a wooden sword can cut if the man who wields it knows the Way. Without understanding, a weapon is only iron."
Mu Jiu's eyes flared. "Are you saying I am not qualified to be called a swordsman?"
"In a sense—yes."
Fury consumed him again. He poured Thunderfire into his weapons and surged forward, lightning and flame coiling around hammer and sword. The strikes that followed were a storm — brutal, furious, and precise.
Yun Che did not meet the storm with brute force. He simply shifted. Step by step, he slid aside, avoiding each empowered blow with effortless calm. Parry after parry, the elder's assaults met only empty air. The arena watched, stunned.
Up in the stands, the sect master of the Heavenly Spear Thunderfire Fortress — a man whose name would mean much later — watched his elder's humiliation with clenched teeth. He had come expecting to impress; instead, he saw his faction's technique mocked by stillness.
"One moment he blocks a full-force hammer with a dagger," an attendant whispered, shaking. "Now he simply avoids Thunderfire like a breeze."
The sect master's face hardened. "We lost this match before it began. Dispatch spies. Gather everything you can about this swordsman. Use every method at our command — we will make him ours."
Wordless dread rippled through the Thunderfire pavilion. The hunt had begun.
Mu Jiu's thunder-fire roared and flashed — but Yun Che slipped through every strike like a phantom. The elder's dual weapons sang through the air, tearing through heat and lightning, yet not a single blow even brushed his coat.
Thunderfire or not, Yun Che thought, his crimson Sharingan flickering faintly beneath the shadow of his hat, in front of my eyes and Haki, it's all worthless.
He had seen enough.
With one smooth movement, Yun Che stepped in — almost casually — and caught the side of Mu Jiu's sword arm. His left arm redirected the hammer's handle before his right fist shot upward, striking the elder's chin with a brutal, clean precision.
Before Mu Jiu could react, Yun Che twisted, seized the sword's hilt, and tore it from the man's grasp. A light kick to the stomach sent him staggering backward.
"You… give me back my sword!" Mu Jiu gasped, clutching his gut.
Yun Che stepped back, spinning the captured sword once between his fingers — the movement smooth, almost playful.
"Hoo… another Earth Profound sword," he said calmly. "A decent piece."
Mu Jiu's fury boiled over.
"I said, give it back!"
He charged, lightning bursting from his hammer—
But Yun Che was already moving. One effortless horizontal swing, too fast for the eye.
Shing!
The tip of the blade stopped just shy of Mu Jiu's neck. A heartbeat later, a heavy clang echoed across the arena. The upper half of Mu Jiu's hammer head hit the ground — cleanly severed.
The elder froze mid-charge, disbelief etched across his face.
"M-my hammer… what have you—how…?"
His voice broke. Weapons of equal grade shouldn't be able to cut each other. But this man — this stranger — had sliced through his Thunderfire hammer like it was made of paper.
Yun Che let the sword drop, its point striking the floor beside the fallen elder. His calm voice carried through the silence:
"I told you — a sword without strength is nothing but iron."
In the same instant, he vanished from sight.
Flash step.
Before the spectators could even blink, Yun Che appeared directly before Mu Jiu and drove a fist into his gut.
"Guarkkk!"
The impact folded Mu Jiu in half and sent him crashing onto the arena floor. The remnants of his hammer clattered from his hands as his consciousness faded.
The arena fell deathly silent. Then, as Yun Che turned his back and walked away, the crowd erupted — gasps, whispers, awe, fear. None of it mattered. He ignored them all.
Yun Che paused at the edge of the arena, his golden eyes drifting toward the stands — toward the crest of the Heavenly Sword Villa. His future opponent.
One more battle, he thought, a cold grin curling beneath his hat.
He could already feel their arrogance radiating from afar — the so-called masters of the sword, men who copied forms but never grasped meaning. If they wished to challenge him, then he would answer them properly.
"Fire with fire," he murmured, voice low and lethal. "Sword against sword."
His gaze lowered, shadow hiding his smirk.
"Looks like Yoru will make her appearance… after all."