The two-hour intermission felt endless for the spectators. Anticipation thickened in the air, a thousand murmurs rising and falling like waves.
But when the announcement finally echoed through the arena, all restlessness vanished. The final eight had arrived.
A voice echoed through the arena, deep and commanding.
"An extraordinary display… truly extraordinary!"
The voice carried profound strength within it, resonating through the crowd like rolling thunder. Slowly, the massive golden gates at the end of the arena opened, and a group of attendants emerged in perfect formation. Leading them was a tall, broad-shouldered man dressed in dark imperial robes lined with gold. His aura radiated authority and confidence—the unmistakable mark of someone used to being obeyed.
The spectators bowed instinctively as they recognized him.
"T-The City Lord!""It's Lord Mo Jianfeng!"
Indeed, it was Mo Jianfeng, City Lord of Gao Ling City—cultivation at the Third Level of the Sky Profound Realm, and one of the Empire's most respected administrators. Though not the strongest man in the empire, his word within Gao Ling was law.
Every seat was filled. Every gaze burned with excitement.
This was it — the last step before the tomb. The chosen eight would join the two elders of the Xiao Clan, forming the ten who would enter the Moon Empress's resting place.
The crowd knew the truth unspoken by the announcer: this wasn't the end of the tournament — merely the beginning of a blood-soaked trial. The true battle, the one that would decide who lived and who died, would unfold inside the tomb itself.
After that… only one would walk out alive.
Yun Che sat quietly at his usual place, arms crossed, golden eyes half-lidded beneath the brim of his hat.
Around him, the roar of the crowd was deafening — but his mind was elsewhere. Still lingering on her.
Li Yue.
Her movements, her frost aura, the resonance of her profound energy — all of it fit perfectly into one undeniable picture.
He had taught the Table Hopper to only two people: Retsu and Chu Yuechan. And Chu Yuechan… would never share what she learned so freely. Not unless something — or someone — had forced her hand.
But Li Yue's execution wasn't perfect. Her movements were raw, her timing instinctive rather than practiced. She wasn't the origin — she was a student of the student. And that meant only one thing: Little Fairy had taught her.
He leaned back slightly, tapping a finger against his knee.
But why?
The Frozen Cloud Asgard never sent participants to tournaments like this. Their disciples were reclusive, detached from worldly greed. The sect itself would never risk sending one of its own into a death trap without purpose.
And yet, here she was — disguised, hidden from her own sect's eyes, gambling everything for a tomb that promised nothing but blood and betrayal.
No… he thought quietly. This wasn't sanctioned. She left on her own.
That cold composure, that quiet determination — it reminded him too much of someone else. Someone who had once walked away from her own fate to face him.
He exhaled softly. "Foolish woman," he murmured under his breath. "You're just like her."
The real question is…
Why risk it?
With the Ice Heart gone, Chu Yuechan had regained her emotions. There was no way she'd allow someone she cared for to take a one-way path into the tomb — especially someone with potential to ascend into the Emperor Profound Realm.
If the sect discovered that one of their fairies had left in secret — and that her rapid advancement traced back to him — the Frozen Cloud Asgard would stop at nothing to find the cause.
And that… would cause far too many complications.
Yun Che shook his head lightly, forcing the thought away.
He'd already decided. For now, he would keep everything to himself — until the tomb. There would be time enough for answers there.
Even if he told Retsu or Jasmine, they wouldn't know who she truly was — not yet.
For now, he would play the fool. Just another wandering swordsman.
He smirked faintly. Let her choose when to reveal herself.
The two-hour recuperation period finally came to an end. The hum of conversation died the moment the gong sounded; anticipation flooded the arena once more.
Sixteen cultivators returned to their seats, each cloaked in silence and focus. Among them sat Li Yue and Dracule Mihawk, the two dark horses whose names now echoed through Gao Ling City like a storm.
From his seat, Yun Che watched her quietly. Even without probing, he could feel it — the uneven rhythm of her energy, the turbulence rippling through her meridians.
Her aura's unstable.
The Table Hopper technique was never meant for ordinary cultivators. He had built it for soul-enhanced bodies — for Shinigami like himself and Retsu. When Little Fairy begged to learn it, he had modified a version that mortals could handle, but the side effects were brutal: overuse strained the body, scrambled circulation, and left one open to backlash.
Li Yue had used it twice in a single day. If she tried again, it would devour her strength. And her next opponent… was not someone she could afford to underestimate.
Mo Jianfeng soon appeared on the stage, holding a lacquered box filled with numbered talismans. Each contestant would draw a lot to determine the order of the final sixteen matches.
When the results were announced, a murmur rolled across the stands.
"First match: Li Yue versus Elder Wu Yuza of the Wu Clan!"
"Last match: Dracule Mihawk versus Elder Ling Hai of the Heavenly Sword Villa!"
A wave of laughter and excitement followed. It was poetic — the mysterious fairy would open the finals, and the black-eyed swordsman would close it.
The appetizer and the dessert.
Yun Che sighed lightly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Just my luck to go last. Still, that suited him. He would give them a finale they would never forget — one worthy of the title "World's Strongest Swordsman."
Across the arena, Li Yue sat with a solemn expression, her fingers tracing the hilt of her sword.
The name Wu Clan replayed in her mind. She knew almost nothing about them, only the whispers — ruthless, secretive, infamous for their cruelty even among cultivators.
Mihawk's earlier warning echoed inside her thoughts.
"They'll do whatever it takes to win. Even unleash what they shouldn't."
If he warned her about them, then she truly had reason to worry. Her recent breakthrough had elevated her to the Peak Sky Profound Realm, but against an elder seasoned by decades of combat, that advantage meant little.
And she could not reveal her Frozen Cloud Arts here — not under the sun, not before the crowd. If the sect discovered her participation, they would never let her walk free again.
No, she would win with her sword alone. Even if it meant burning every drop of strength she had left.
On the opposite side of the stands, Yun Che reclined back, his golden eyes half-closed.
His upcoming opponent — Elder Ling Hai of the Heavenly Sword Villa — was famous throughout the empire for his political cunning and self-righteous swordsmanship. To most, he was an idol of the sword. To Yun Che, he was the perfect target.
Two months from now, that same villa would stand against him. This match was the first warning — a message to the empire's so-called strongest sect.
He smiled faintly. Let's see if your sword can withstand mine, Heavenly Sword Villa.
The raffle session concluded under Mo Jianfeng's watchful eye, and the booming voice of the announcer echoed across the arena once more.
"With that, ladies and gentlemen, the final matches are now decided! The winners of the Selection will each receive a special token of appreciation, personally prepared by our honorable city lord, Mo Jianfeng. What these tokens are… shall remain a mystery known only to him. Now—let us begin the first battle of the finals! Presenting, our mysterious fairy—Li Yue, versus the legendary elder of the Wu Clan—Wu Yuza!"
A sudden wave of noise rippled through the stands. The entire crowd erupted into a mix of gasps and excited chatter.
"Did he say Wu Yuza?! Damn, she's going up against that old monster?"
"She's strong, sure—but the Wu Clan elder? That's suicide!"
"You think she can win?"
"Hard to say… she's the dark horse of the tournament—but this time her opponent isn't some minor sect elder."
The name Wu Clan alone carried enough weight to silence the rowdiest spectators.
"Don't you get it? The Wu Clan has direct support from one of the Sacred Grounds in the Inner Lands—same as the Heavenly Sword Villa! That's the only reason they're considered untouchable within the Blue Wind Empire."
"No wonder none of his earlier opponents even dared to go all out. You offend the Wu Clan, and you don't live to regret it."
"Exactly. Only those from the four greatest sects could even dream of challenging them openly."
As the murmurs spread, the air grew heavier, tinged with tension.
"They say the Wu Clan's strength isn't just in their cultivation—it's in their secret art. Some kind of method that can boost one's power temporarily, even letting them break through realms mid-battle."
"Yeah, it's true. A forbidden enhancement art—grants immense power, but with brutal side effects. The Sacred Ground backs them because of it."
"If that's real, then this Li Yue girl doesn't stand a chance. She's walking straight into a lion's den."
A nervous laugh broke from one of the merchants in the stands.
"If she's smart, she should just concede. Even if she wins, the Wu Clan won't forgive her for humiliating them in front of everyone."
"And without a sect to back her up? She'll be hunted before the tomb even opens."
The whispers faded into a tense silence as the arena lights shifted toward the stage.
At the center of the arena, Elder Wu Yuza emerged from his section of the stands, draped in black and crimson robes embroidered with ancient runes. His eyes were calm, but his presence was suffocating—like molten magma barely sealed beneath a thin crust of restraint.
Across from him, Li Yue stepped forward in her hooded robe, silver eyes steady behind her mask. Her aura was calm, but Yun Che—watching from above—could feel the faint tremor of exhaustion within her.
She's still not recovered, he thought. One more Table Hopper, and she's done for.
The crowd held its breath as the two opponents took their places. The air shimmered faintly between them—the prelude to a battle that could shake reputations across the empire.
The arena quieted to a low hum as Li Yue stepped forward, facing her opponent. Across from her stood a middle-aged man dressed in dark red robes, the bold character "Wu" stitched across his back. A heavy war hammer hung at his side — an unusual weapon for a man claiming to be a cultivator, yet the aura around him radiated confidence, almost arrogance.
So this was Wu Yuza. The infamous elder who had advanced this far without even lifting a finger — all his previous opponents had conceded before the first strike.
Li Yue studied him silently. That's the problem with men like him, she thought. You never see their hand until it's too late.
Then her gaze flicked briefly toward Mihawk—no, Yun Che—in the distance. His words echoed again in her mind.
"Don't let them eat something."
The crowd had murmured about it too — the Wu Clan's secret, the so-called "boost." A forbidden substance said to force a cultivator's energy several realms higher for a short time. A shortcut bought with one's life span.
She tightened her grip on her sword. So that's what he meant.
Wu Yuza smirked as he stepped closer, his eyes scanning her figure with open contempt. "Hmph… another ant dressed as a fairy. I'll be generous today. Kneel and admit defeat — the Wu Clan might let you walk away alive."
He licked his lips, his gaze shameless. "Better yet, why not join us? A woman like you would have a bright future under my banner."
The audience stirred; even among cultivators, his tone was repulsive.
But Li Yue's voice was steady, her tone colder than the air around her. "I thank you for your offer," she said, her sword lowering slightly — only to shift subtly into stance. "But I have no intention of conceding."
The elder's smile twisted. "You're about to challenge the Wu Clan, girl. Do you really wish to offend us?"
Her answer cut like a blade. "Since when does a challenge equal an offense? You're a branch elder, not the Wu Clan patriarch. A rabid dog barking at shadows doesn't make it a lion."
Gasps broke from the stands. Even the other elders blinked in disbelief. No one — no one — dared to mock the Wu Clan so openly.
Wu Yuza's face darkened with fury. "You… insolent wench. Since I'm feeling merciful today, I'll give you one last chance—"
"I already said," she interrupted flatly, "I'm not interested."
The air shifted. His aura flared. "Then don't blame me for what happens next! You and your family will—"
He never finished.
In the instant between one heartbeat and the next, Li Yue vanished.
A blur of silver and frost streaked across the stage.
By the time Wu Yuza realized she had moved, the tip of her sword was already at his throat.
A sharp metallic hiss echoed through the arena — the sound of steel slicing through air.
For a heartbeat, no one breathed.
Then came the gasp.
The Wu Clan elder froze mid-sentence, his eyes wide, a thin line of blood forming where her sword had just grazed his neck.
Li Yue's stance was perfect — graceful, poised, and absolutely still. Her cold eyes met his with the same calm Yun Che had once shown on this very stage.
In the crowd below, murmurs spread like wildfire.
"She moved—did anyone see her move?"
"That was too fast—she disappeared!"
"No, I swear I saw her sword flash just once—like lightning!"
Wu Yuza stumbled back, clutching his throat. Rage and disbelief warred in his eyes.
"You dare—! You little—!"
But before he could finish his curse, the faint glint of frost shimmered along the wound.
A sliver of ice.
Li Yue's cold aura rippled faintly around her as she lowered her sword, her voice a soft warning that cut sharper than steel.
"You keep talking," she said, "and there'll be no more of you."
Though he had avoided her strike by a hair's breadth, Wu Zuya's fury boiled. He had always been showered with praise and obedience — never defiance. This woman, cloaked in black and calm as frost, treated him as if he were nothing.
"You… you really wish to offend the Wu Clan?" he hissed, his voice trembling with rage.
"You're starting to annoy me."
Li Yue didn't even glance at him. She pressed forward with relentless speed, her blade flickering like lightning, forcing him into retreat. Under her disguise, she felt no need for restraint — no ties, no fear of consequence. If Mihawk had stood in her place, she thought, he'd have already cut this arrogant fool in half before he finished a single sentence.
The elder's fury deepened. His intimidation had made every previous opponent fold before the first strike. But this woman — this silent, masked fairy — ignored him entirely, cutting through his words as easily as his pride.
The crowd watched in awe as Li Yue drove him backward again and again, every step earning gasps from the stands. He kept shouting threats — invoking the Sacred Ground's name, the Wu Clan's prestige — but his voice was quickly drowned by the ringing sound of her sword striking stone.
At last, he bellowed, "You dare push me this far?! I showed you mercy — but since you insist on courting death, this elder will oblige!"
He thrust his sword into the arena floor, his energy flaring. The ground trembled violently as cracks split the surface beneath his feet.
"We of the Wu Clan specialize in manipulating the Earth! Now—take this rock and scram!"
A deep rumble filled the stadium. Pebbles and shards of stone rose from the floor, swirling toward his blade until they merged into a storm of jagged boulders, each the size of a man's head. They hovered around him like a constellation of rock, rotating faster and faster — a wall of living stone.
Li Yue narrowed her eyes. A defensive domain technique. Breaking through that with direct attacks would waste too much energy.
Then Wu Zuya sneered and snapped his wrist. "Let's see how long that grace of yours lasts!"
The stones shot outward like a meteor shower. She twisted her body aside, dodging the first wave, but then her eyes widened — the stones she'd just avoided looped back midair, spinning toward her again.
"What…?"
She ducked low, her sword deflecting one, then two more, but each strike multiplied the next. Every time she evaded, two new stones veered from behind, whistling past her ears.
The crowd gasped as the arena turned into a storm of rebounding projectiles, all converging on a single point — her.
From within the chaos, Wu Zuya's triumphant voice thundered:
"Feast your eyes upon the might of the Wu Clan's Rock Reversal Formation! You could have had a future under me, woman — now, die crushed beneath the earth itself!"
Up in the stands, Yun Che watched silently, his sharp gaze glinting beneath the brim of his hat. The system scanned the flow of Wu Zuya's profound energy, and he smirked faintly.
So that's their trick…Manipulated rock infused with spirit threads — no, not threads… tether seals.
His smirk widened. The idiot's using an inferior version of a Sacred Ground binding technique. And he still thinks he's untouchable.
Leaning back slightly, he murmured under his breath,
"Comfort makes fools soft. All that backing from the Sacred Ground, and he still fights like a pampered brat."
His gaze shifted back to the arena, watching Li Yue disappear behind a flurry of stone and dust.
From the stands, Yun Che's eyes narrowed. He could tell from her footwork — Li Yue had a plan.
She kept weaving through the barrage, each movement sharper, more deliberate. Her gaze followed the stones, not the man.
Then he saw it too — the pattern. Every rock that missed her looped back in a fixed arc, spiraling in a perfect circle before returning to the caster.
Smart girl, Yun Che thought.
Down in the arena, Wu Zuya sneered between labored breaths.
"A simple attack and defend — is that all you've got? You're dumb, woman, if you think a non-martial-skill user can beat a Wu Clan elder!"
He swung his blade again, his grin widening — until Li Yue abruptly stepped sideways.
A single rock skimmed past her sleeve, missing by the width of a thread—
—and slammed into his abdomen.
"Guuargh!! You—!"
Before he could recover, more stones hurtled back toward him in the same circular path — only now he was standing exactly where she had been.
One after another, the rocks he'd summoned crashed into him in a deafening THUD–THUD–THUD!
The crowd gasped. The formation he had so proudly unleashed had turned against him, each impact hammering his body through his own shield of earth.
Yun Che smirked faintly.
"Overconfidence kills faster than any sword. He locked his trajectory to her energy signature. The moment she swapped positions—"He chuckled softly. "—he became the target."
The arena filled with dust and shattered rock. When the smoke cleared, Wu Zuya stood trembling amid the debris, his clothes torn, his body bleeding from cuts and bruises. He growled low, summoning the earth beneath him as raw killing intent flared in his eyes.
"You… insolent wretch. This elder was content to toy with you, but you leave me no choice!"
The ground beneath him rumbled again. Earth and sand coiled upward, fusing into a colossal arm of stone. In its grip, a blade of solid earth took shape — massive, jagged, and glowing faintly with brown light.
He swung. The sword roared through the air, but despite its power, its weight slowed it. Li Yue slipped aside, her movements fluid and cold.
As she closed in, he reflexively summoned a dome of earth to shield himself.
And that — Yun Che realized instantly — was the end.
From above, spectators saw it too: his earlier technique froze mid-air, the massive earthen sword hanging uselessly in place as all his energy flooded into the barrier around him. He could only channel one art at a time.
Li Yue's sword flared with pale blue frost. She didn't hesitate.
Shhhhk!
Her strike pierced the shield as if cutting through paper. A burst of icy mist erupted from the wound as the blade sank into his chest.
"AAARRRRGGHHHH!!!"
Wu Zuya's scream tore through the arena. His constructs — the sword, the arm, the orbiting stones — all crumbled instantly as his control collapsed.
He staggered backward, clutching his chest. Blood seeped between his fingers, freezing where it touched her lingering aura.
The battle should have been over. But then, as Li Yue lowered her sword, she saw him move again.
From the folds of his tattered robe, Wu Zuya pulled out a strange object — a fruit shaped like a peach, its skin pitch-black and etched with pulsing crimson veins. It emanated a faint, sinister energy that made the air ripple.
Yun Che's gaze sharpened the instant that strange fruit appeared in Wu Zuya's hand. The memory came back to him vividly — that same black peach he'd once seen another Wu elder use before being crushed beneath his own power.
He muttered under his breath, voice calm but edged with interest,
"Hooo… he's actually going to use it.Well then… what are you going to do, Li Yue?"
Up in the Wu Clan's viewing area, another elder suddenly leapt to his feet."Zuya, don't use it!" he shouted, his face pale. "It's still untested—you'll destroy your cultivation!"
The words reached Li Yue's ears instantly. That fruit… that's what Mihawk warned me about. Her pulse quickened. There was no time to think.
In one breath she gathered her profound energy, the frost around her feet scattering into silver motes. She vanished from sight.
"I DON'T CARE!" Wu Zuya roared, veins bulging across his neck. "That woman insulted my pride! I'll—"
He never finished.
Li Yue's figure reappeared right in front of him, her knee bent, her heel already flying.
BANG!
Her kick connected squarely with his face. A tooth flew. The black fruit spun from his grasp, tumbling high into the air before vanishing somewhere across the arena floor.
Wu Zuya reeled backward, eyes wide in disbelief—but she didn't give him a chance to recover. Her sword shimmered with frostlight as she gathered energy at the tip and unleashed it in a sharp wave.
The elder threw up his earth shield to block the blast, then countered wildly, swinging his hammer in rage. But Li Yue's body blurred again — her third Table Hopper. Even with her head pounding from the mental strain, she pushed through.
She reappeared behind him, cold breath curling around her blade. The next strike landed squarely on his back.
BOOM!
The impact hurled Wu Zuya from the stage like a rag doll. He crashed into the stone wall of the arena, hard enough to crack it. The force crushed his spine, the hammer slipping from his hand as his body slumped motionless to the ground.
Silence.
Li Yue remained on one knee, gasping for breath, her sword trembling slightly.The backlash from the third Table Hopper was brutal — the headache splitting behind her eyes made it hard to even stay upright.
But she'd done it. She'd stopped him before he could consume that accursed fruit.
She looked toward where it had fallen: half-buried in dust, faintly pulsing with sinister energy. A shiver ran through her. Whatever that thing is… Mihawk was right. If Wu Zuya had eaten it, she wouldn't have stood a chance.
High above, Yun Che rested his chin on his knuckles, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Smarter than I expected," he murmured."A shame—I was half-curious to see that transformation again. But she knew her limit."
His eyes softened slightly.
"Yeah… definitely something she learned from Little Fairy."
For a long moment, the arena stayed silent.Then the crowd erupted.
"She won—she actually beat the Wu Clan elder!""The only woman in the selection—first one to enter the tomb!""Ha! I knew I should've bet more on her!"
A gambler cursed his luck while another waved his purple betting cards in triumph.
"That's your loss! I just made a fortune—Heavens bless that woman!"
Even the cultivators in the stands whispered in awe.
"She's doomed now… the Wu Clan won't forget this humiliation."
"If she claims the Moon Empress inheritance, though… even they couldn't touch her."
"True, but every other finalist will be watching her now."
"Especially that monster swordsman…"
All eyes slowly turned toward the man in black sitting calmly in the audience, his yellow eyes faintly glinting beneath his hat.
Dracule Mihawk.
He didn't move, didn't even look back. But the faintest curl of amusement tugged at his lips.
With her victory, Li Yue officially secured the first spot to enter the tomb. Even standing there, hearing the crowd chant her name, she could hardly believe it. If not for that movement technique she'd mastered before coming here, she wouldn't have lasted past the first round. Every opponent had outmatched her in experience, and she'd had to hide her true strength at every step.
If not for that man's warning, she thought, I'd be the one lying broken on the ground.She silently thanked both Chu Yuechan and Mihawk for the opportunity they'd given her—though she still didn't understand why Mihawk had helped her at all.It couldn't simply be sympathy between two "solo cultivators."
Below the stage, panic rippled through the Wu Clan.Disciples and an escort elder rushed to carry the unconscious Wu Zuya away. Their clan had not only lost face before the entire city—they had also lost the fruit he'd been holding.
That single object was more valuable than gold. Zuya's sample was the newest version of their "empowered fruit," a creation so potent that, if discovered by another faction, it could throw the empire into chaos. The escort elder barked orders for his disciples to scour the arena and retrieve it before anyone else found it.
===============
Up in the VIP gallery, Kon groaned dramatically.
"Tch. I really wanted to see what that old fart would've turned into. That fruit looked weird."
Retsu smiled faintly, her crimson eyes softening as she recalled the past.
"Yuu-kun fought someone like that once. A cultivator who tried to kidnap me. He protected me… ahh, my hero."
Cang Yue blinked. "Wait—when was that?"
"Back at the New Moon Profound Palace," Retsu said. "He obliterated that arrogant brat and his grandfather."
Cang Yue's jaw dropped. "Hold on—you mean Wu Ya?! The one who caused that crescent-shaped crater outside the city? I knew that was him! I asked Yun Che about it, but he brushed me off like it was nothing!"
Retsu laughed nervously. "Ah… we never told you the full story, huh? That brat transformed into a boar-like creature after eating one of those fruits. Yuu-kun called it an artificial Zoan Fruit—don't ask me what that means. He said it grants immense strength, but it burns away the user's cultivation in return."
Kon crossed his arms. "So it's a one-off trick? That sucks."
"More or less," Retsu said. "But for a short while, it can push someone up half a grand realm—almost to the peak. That woman was smart to stop him before he could eat it. If he had, she'd be dead."
Mio, listening quietly beside them, chuckled.
"Danna-sama really is something, isn't he?"
Kon snorted. "If it were him, he'd let the guy transform just so he could crush him at full power. That's exactly what I'd do!"
Retsu giggled behind her sleeve. "Hnn… only Yuu-kun would do something that insane."Her expression softened, eyes drifting toward the stage where Mihawk sat motionless.
"Let's just hope he gives us another grand show when his turn comes."
===================
Li Yue became the first to secure her place in the selection.She had done the impossible—defeated every opponent without revealing a single martial skill. The crowd, though slightly disappointed at the lack of spectacle, couldn't help but admire her calm efficiency. The mysterious fairy had won her ticket into the tomb.
As she returned to her seat, her heart raced. She wanted to smile, to feel proud—but instead, unease crept through her chest. Mihawk's words echoed in her mind.
"The tomb is a one-way ticket to damnation. Those who enter won't return. Ever"
If she died in there, the sect would list her as missing, and someone—someone dear—would be waiting for her return that would never come. She clenched her hands together. No. I will return alive. Even if she had to fight every clan in that cursed place, she would survive it. And deep down, she believed one thing for certain: Mihawk wouldn't harm her. Not yet, at least.
The following matches surged with tension. Each battle grew more desperate, bloodier, and grander. No one wanted to surrender their dream—not when the tomb promised power beyond comprehension.
Swords shattered. Energy lit the skies.And one by one, victors emerged.
By the time the dust settled, the seven chosen had been decided.
Li Yue and Mihawk—the dark horses—stood apart as the twin legends of the day.The strongest elders of the Empire's proudest sects had fallen to them, and the people cheered their names. Yet behind those smiles, anger simmered.
The Burning Heaven Clan, the Thunderfire Fortress, the Wu Clan, and the Qin Clan had all been humiliated.They would not forget this.Not after being bested by two "wandering nobodies."
Still, the deed was done. Mo Jianfeng's word was final, and none could deny the results.
From the stands, the Xiao Clan watched in uneasy silence. They had entered by default, basking in undeserved prestige. The others had fought their way to glory, while the Xiao Clan's pride began to feel hollow in comparison.
Then, at last, the announcer's voice thundered across the arena.
"With seven slots filled, we now arrive at the final battle of the selection! The match that will decide the eighth and final participant to enter the tomb!Standing on one side—the swordsman of unknown origin, Dracule Mihawk!And opposing him—the esteemed elder of the Heavenly Sword Villa, Ling Hai!"
The air itself seemed to tighten.Yun Che slowly raised his head, revealing his sharp, yellow-gold eyes. His expression was cold and unreadable, the very image of the "Hawk Eyes" that had become legend over the past few days.
Across the arena, Elder Ling Hai rose from his seat, every movement composed, precise. The audience fell silent as the two swordsmen—one a wandering enigma, the other a master of the Empire's most renowned sword sect—locked gazes.
Ling Hai felt something stir deep within his chest. For years, he had known nothing but dull repetition, every duel predictable. But this man… this swordsman... reignited something that had long slept within him.
He stepped onto the stone railing, his robe snapping in the wind, the Heavenly Sword Villa's crest glinting proudly on his chest. He amplified his voice with profound energy, letting it roll across the arena.
"Hmph! As expected of an unknown swordsman. Those strange yellow eyes of yours have shaken even the proudest warriors here."
"They call you Hawk Eyes. Fitting, perhaps."
"But tell me, Dracule Mihawk—how long has it been since I've felt this way?"
He smiled faintly, his tone turning fierce.
"The thrill of crossing blades with a true master.The excitement of testing my sword against the strongest I've ever seen."
The wind stilled.All chatter in the stands died away.For the first time, every spectator leaned forward, breath held.
Yun Che rose slowly from his seat, his expression calm and distant.The wind whipped across the arena, tugging at his black coat until it rippled like a dark banner. His seat and the Heavenly Sword Villa elder's happened to be directly opposite one another — almost as if fate itself had staged the duel.
For a moment, he stood on the stone railing, motionless, hands in his pockets, the breeze whistling past him. The crowd watched in silence, hearts pounding in anticipation.
If this were his usual self, he might have said something along the lines of "What, you wanna fight or something?"But not today. Not as Mihawk.
He kept his voice cool, composed.
"So, you wish to measure the distance between our swords?"
The elder's robes fluttered in the wind as he replied, his tone both respectful and fierce.
"I do not know that distance yet… but my instincts tell me that you are a man worth crossing blades with.""I've traveled across the empire, dueling countless swordsmen. Eventually, I became a mentor within my sect—content, yet unsatisfied. You, however… you awaken something in me."
He lifted his hand toward Yun Che.
"So instead of defeating me through tricks or unorthodox means—honor me with your true weapon. The sword on your back, the one whispered about in every corner of this empire."
Inside, Yun Che couldn't help but smirk.
Ho? This old man really wants to cross swords that badly?He sighed inwardly.Shame I can't use my Zanpakutō here. I've been itching to bring out Tensa Zangetsu in public for a change.
But Mihawk wouldn't sigh. Mihawk would simply oblige.
"Very well," he said quietly. "It is only proper to draw one's blade when standing before a true swordsman."
He reached behind his back.
SHING.
The single, clear note of metal sliding against metal cut through the air like thunder through silence.The black blade—Yoru—emerged into the sunlight, its surface gleaming with a dark, liquid sheen that seemed to swallow light itself. The massive cross-shaped sword reflected no color, only shadow, its golden hilt glinting like sunlight over deep water.
Every eye in the arena widened. Every heart skipped a beat.
The audience gasped as one.
"He finally drew it…"
"I've waited the entire morning to see that sword!"
A ripple of awe swept through the stands.
"He was merciful not to use it before—imagine! He defeated elders with only a dagger and his fingers!""If he's serious now, this won't be just a duel—it'll be a legend in the making."
In the viewing platform, Mo Jianfeng leaned forward, eyes sharp.
"So… that's the rumored black sword?"
His attendant nodded, swallowing nervously.
"Yes, my lord. They say it's at least an Emperor Profound weapon."
Mo Jianfeng's expression hardened.
"Rumor or not, a sword like that will draw greedy eyes from every sect here. Look—half of them are already assessing its worth."
The attendant followed his gaze, noticing several elders and clan leaders eyeing the sword with undisguised hunger.
"None of them would dare move now," the attendant murmured, "but… once the tournament ends…"
Mo Jianfeng nodded grimly.
"They'll try. And they'll die."
Below, Ling Hai took one deep breath, steadying his spirit. The blade before him exuded no aura, no energy, no killing intent—yet every instinct screamed that the smallest movement from that sword could end him.
Yun Che—Mihawk—rested Yoru across his shoulder, the tip of the black blade glinting faintly in the light. His eyes, golden and calm, focused entirely on Ling Hai.
Seeing the black sword up close, Ling Hai's eyes gleamed with admiration and unease.
"So this is the black sword the people are dying to see," he said, his voice loud enough for all to hear. "The shape is strange… but the power it holds is undeniable. Rumors claim it rivals the swords of the sacred lands—but rumors are only rumors."He smiled thinly."Still, I have traveled far, crossed blades with countless masters, and handled swords of every grade. Yours—" he gestured toward Yoru "—feels different. Heavier. Stronger than any I've faced so far."
A wave of murmurs swept the crowd.
"Did he just say the black sword is stronger than sacred ground weapons?""He's trying to expose him!""He's painting a target on that man's back!"
Yun Che's lips twitched ever so slightly.
Oi… oi… this old fool's got guts, he mused silently. Trying to use his words to bait the entire arena into coveting Yoru? Heh. Go ahead, old man. Let them come. They'll learn soon enough—this sword obeys no one but me.
He exhaled softly and tilted his head, eyes half-lidded in that unmistakable Mihawk fashion.
"I haven't drawn her in quite some time. Perhaps…" —a faint smirk crossed his lips— "I'll finally have a decent warm-up."
Ling Hai's calm cracked for the first time. His pride as a mentor of the Heavenly Sword Villa couldn't tolerate such arrogance.
"You are far too proud for an unknown swordsman!" he barked, raising his blade high. "Then let us test the waters!"
He swung his sword skyward—profound energy bursting outward in a storm of radiance.Lances of pure light streaked across the sky before merging into a massive crescent of sword energy that hovered above the arena like a second moon.
"Hmph! Rather than wasting words, take this from me!""Heaven's Might Absolute Sword—Moon Arc Sword Light!"
The crescent flared, blinding white. The crowd gasped as the air rippled and cracked beneath its pressure. Even Mo Jianfeng rose from his seat, stunned.
"That… that's one of the Heavenly Sword Villa's forbidden arts!"
"It hasn't been seen in public for decades!"
And yet, the man standing across from it did not move.
Yun Che—Mihawk—stood perfectly still, his cloak billowing in the pressure wind. His yellow eyes reflected the massive moonlike arc approaching him. No fear. No tension. Just quiet calculation.
Slowly, he lifted Yoru.
The black blade rested behind his head in that familiar, one-handed stance—the same motion that had once cut apart mountains in another world.
In the VIP box, Mio leaned forward, heart pounding.
"Is Danna-sama… is he really going to use that?"
Cang Yue nodded, a small, knowing smile on her lips.
"He practiced it for hours last night. He said he wanted to 'make it perfect' before using it."
Kon crossed his arms smugly.
"Compared to his wave, that white moon up there is nothing but a paper lantern."
Retsu's eyes gleamed as she activated her eagle vision.
"Then let them witness the real thing…"
Ling Hai thrust his sword forward, releasing the blazing crescent.The white moon screamed through the air—space itself trembling around its edges.
And Mihawk—with a single movement—brought Yoru down.