They battered her without mercy. The sound of steel against flesh and the thud of bodies hitting stone filled the little arena; each impact a deliberate sentence ending in pain. Guo Qing and Shao Shun fought like men who believed the world owed them everything—two practiced predators testing the limits of a wounded prey.
Under the Xiao Sect's formation, Li Yue's profound energy was a trickle where it should have been a torrent. Every time she tried to call on her Frozen Cloud Arts, the formation drank the power away as if it were nothing but smoke. The hits came faster than her breath. She tasted metal and salt; her robes were torn in places, skin open and bleeding where the elders had shoved her into the rough stone. If anyone outside these walls could see, they would call it murder by dishonor. In here, there would be no witnesses. No record. Only this arena—and the cold cacophony of two men who already decided she had no right to live.
She hit the stone once and slid, coughing. The world was a smear of gray, the edges of her vision rimmed with black. Each breath rasped. She pushed herself upright, hand on her sword—the gesture more a plea than an action. Her legs shook under her like saplings in a storm.
"Give it up, Fairy Li Yue," Shao Shun taunted, blade flashing. "With your profound flow halved, you're no threat. The Xiao Sect gave us these charms—only we can use the anti-arts. No one else will even know you died."
Guo Qing spat and crouched close enough that she could smell his stale wine. "Don't worry—I'm not a monster. I just want you alive enough to… enjoy." He made the motion of tearing off a mask, grinning as if she were a trinket at a feast.
There was no room in her chest for pleading. Pride and duty scalded hotter than any wound. She thought of the Frozen Cloud Asgard—of the woman who had taught her, of the hush-bound promises and secret techniques that should never be bartered like coin. If they took the technique from her body, they would sell it, replicate it, weaponize it. The Asgard would be dragged into a war the sect could not win.
Better she be the tomb that swallowed the secret than let it be looted.
Li Yue steadied herself. Pain blurred into focus; focus hardened into resolve. She drew breath like a ritual and planted her feet, the torchlight catching the frost in the air as if it remembered her name. Around her, the formation pulsed like a living wound. The talismans on the floor hissed; magic smelled of ozone and old paper.
"Never," she said, low and steady. The word was a blade.
The elders laughed—short, cruel. "Come on. Make it quick," Guo Qing urged.
Li Yue closed her eyes. The world narrowed to one thing: the chant of a line she had sworn never to speak in anger, the pattern of a seal burned into her chest by the Asgard mistress. It was a forbidden art—raw, absolute, and terrible in its cost. She had vowed she would only employ it as the closing act of a life, to seal a truth with blood.
Her lips moved. Quiet at first, then louder, syllables like breaking ice. She felt the formation trying to drink her as it had before—but this time the flow was different. She poured not only profound energy but the marrow of herself—memory, warmth, the gentle names of those she loved—into the chant. The hall chilled. The air itself seemed to contract.
"Elder sister," she breathed, voice cracking with a grief that tasted like snow. "Forgive me. I must disobey our promise. If I fall now, remember me kindly. In the next life, let me be your little sister again."
The last syllable left her like a bell. Light exploded from her core outward—so cold it burned. The torch flame bowed back as if offended. The runes beneath her flared, their suppressing glow bending, then fraying at the edges. For an instant everything stopped: the men's movements, the scrape of armor, even the drip of blood. Sound thinned to the ringing in Li Yue's ears.
Then the formation screamed.
Cracks spidered across the glowing talismans. Blue-white frost leapt from Li Yue's sword and raced along the stone like living lightning. The elders' faces shifted from triumph to shock to alarm as something they did not understand began to unmake what they had relied upon. Where the Xiao Sect's sealing had been absolute, now it trembled as if a winter wind had found its heart.
Li Yue's knees buckled beneath the world-splitting strain, but she held herself upright by teeth and oath. Around her, the arena answered—shards of frozen light spidering outward, painting the ceiling, the pillars, and the very mouths of the stairways with a cold that felt like judgment.
For the first time all night, neither elder spoke a boast. They only stared, and in their eyes a new calculation formed—one that smelled very like fear.
Outside the frozen bloom, something else moved—subtle, like a shadow taking a step. Far above, in the corridor that mirrored this chamber, another sound—metal cutting the air—fell like a prelude.
The tomb, it seemed, would not let them keep their bargains.
Her mind began to drift.
Through the pain, through the shivering cracks of her body, memories surfaced like fragments of a dream.
She saw her sister's smile, soft and proud. The gentle hands that had once guided her through her first cultivation. The woman who had shielded her from the cold of the world—only for her to abandon that warmth in her hunger for recognition.
She remembered her disciple too—brilliant, eager, rising faster than her master ever did. Then one day, she was gone—taken under the wing of the sect master herself. From that moment on, Li Yue was forgotten. A mere shadow in the sect she loved.
That was when the frost had first grown inside her—not the power of the Frozen Cloud Arts, but the loneliness of being left behind.
She left the sect in secret, chasing strength she wasn't ready for. Disobeying her sister. Disobeying her heart.
Now, as the heat of battle seared her wounds, regret came like an avalanche.
She saw her sister again—smiling under the moonlight, her voice soft as snow. And beyond that memory, another face surfaced—Dracule Mihawk. The man whose presence unsettled her heart in ways she didn't understand. The man whose cold gaze somehow felt warmer than all the years she spent in isolation.
A single tear slid down her cheek. It froze before it could fall.
The ground beneath her began to quake as she poured everything into her final gambit. The energy she gathered was no longer gentle frost—it was the wrath of winter itself.
Cracks spidered across the stage, each one glowing faintly blue, pulsing with the rhythm of her weakening heartbeat.
Both Guo Qing and Shao Shun froze, their arrogance faltering as the temperature dropped again. Frost spread across the arena floor in veins of light.
"We need to stop her!" Shao Shun's voice shook. "If she completes that technique, we'll be the ones who die!"
"Damn woman—still hiding such power after all this?" Guo Qing snarled, flames already igniting around him.
"Then we'll show her ours. Now!"
But Li Yue didn't hear them anymore. She stood trembling, her hair whipping like strands of white flame, eyes glowing with the ethereal blue of the Frozen Cloud. Her voice rang out, clear and sorrowful—like a requiem sung at the end of the world.
"Elder Sister… forgive me. For disobeying you… for chasing a dream unworthy of your love."
"Frozen Cloud Art—Forbidden Technique…"
The air stilled. The frost screamed.
"ZEROTH AURORA!!!"
Her aura exploded outward in a storm of icy light, each shard of frost a blade cutting the air itself. The arena was swallowed in blue radiance as she dashed forward, leaving trails of freezing mist in her wake.
Just one hit.
Just one chance.
Her sword glimmered like a star as she closed the distance.
But the elders were already moving.
"GUO SECT SECRET SKILL—FLAMING GOLDEN FINGER!!!"
"HEAVEN'S ULTIMATE SWORD SKILL—SWORD OF CORRUPTION!!!"
Two pillars of energy—one a torrent of molten gold, the other a blade of black lightning—crashed toward her.
For an instant, the entire arena vanished in blinding light.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"
Her scream tore through the cold.
The two techniques slammed into her body, their combined force shaking the entire tomb. The Zeroth Aurora shattered like glass. The backlash struck her chest, sending a spray of blood into the air before freezing into crimson petals.
And yet—miraculously—her body endured. The forbidden art twisted upon itself, forming a barrier of frost that saved her from complete annihilation… but at a terrible cost.
Her skin was scorched and pale, her robes torn to ribbons. The delicate silk hung in tatters around her body, the once proud insignia of the Frozen Cloud Asgard burned away. Every breath was agony; every heartbeat felt like a blade cutting her from within.
She had failed her sect. Failed her sister.
The world around her was silent.
The only sound left was the dull, uneven rhythm of her own heartbeat—slow, fading, stubbornly refusing to stop.
Her body lay broken upon the arena floor. Shattered stone, shattered spirit. The explosion had torn her robes to ribbons; what remained clung loosely to her battered form, fluttering faintly in the dying wind of the battle. Her long, brownish-silver hair had come undone, spreading across the cracked marble like threads of moonlight tarnished by blood.
Her mask—the final symbol of her identity—lay in fragments beside her. The strike that should have ended her life had instead revealed her face to the cold, unfeeling light of the tomb.
And yet… she lived.
Barely.
Her chest rose and fell shallowly, each breath a small rebellion against the darkness closing in. Her body refused to move, every nerve deadened, every muscle numb. But her mind… her mind was still awake.
Still aware.
Why?
The word echoed in her skull, soundless, endless.
Why can't I move? Why can't I die? Why am I still here?
The heavens, it seemed, had turned cruel.
She couldn't scream. Couldn't even whisper. Only her eyes still worked, staring blankly upward at the cracked ceiling of the ancient tomb, tears slipping down to mix with the blood pooling beneath her.
It wasn't pain she felt anymore—it was something worse. The suffocating emptiness of knowing her body had failed but her soul refused to follow.
She could see them.
Guo Qing and Shao Shun, their laughter echoing through the frozen air, walking toward her slowly. Their silhouettes loomed larger with every step, the light from the arena pillars glinting off their weapons.
Her vision blurred, and for the first time in years—maybe her entire life—Li Yue felt fear.
Her heart, cold and disciplined as ice for so long, shattered completely.
No... no... please...
The words formed in her mind but never reached her lips.
She watched helplessly as the men approached, their smiles twisted and full of dark promise. Their voices blended with the sound of her pulse. The humiliation that awaited her was worse than any death she could imagine.
Move… please… move…
Her body didn't answer.
The despair crushed her. All her years of pride, all the battles she'd fought to earn respect—reduced to this final, pitiful moment.
Her thoughts fled to the only warmth left in her fading consciousness.
She saw her sister, laughing gently in the snow, teaching her to focus her breath, her stance. She remembered the comfort of her voice. The way she would say, "Don't lose yourself to the cold, Li'er. Let your heart stay warm, even in frost."
Now, that warmth was gone.
And as she realized that her sister might never know her fate—might spend her entire life searching for a grave that didn't exist—new tears welled in her lifeless eyes.
They fell silently, like snowflakes.
Sister… I'm sorry…
I should have listened. I should have stayed. I should have been stronger.
Her last shred of pride cracked under the weight of her regret.
She could no longer tell whether the warmth on her cheeks was blood or tears. Only that it was fading—like everything else.
The world dimmed. The laughter of the men became distant. And as the shadows swallowed her sight, she thought she saw it—a faint glimmer of gold flickering somewhere far away in the dark.
It was small… faint… like the spark of life refusing to go out.
"Hmph… this bitch was a lot of trouble." Guo Qing exhaled, wiping a streak of blood from his mouth as he straightened himself. His gaze slid toward the broken figure lying on the cracked stage.
Her hair, freed from its bindings, spilled like silver silk over the frozen stone. Her face—unmasked for the first time—gleamed faintly under the flickering lights.
"This elder's lucky," Shao Shun muttered, crouching beside her. His eyes gleamed with a vile hunger as he leaned closer, the corners of his lips curling into a wet, twisted smile. "To see such a face before it turns to dust…"
He tilted her chin up with the edge of his sword, and then—
"Oi…" Guo Qing's eyes widened, his smirk faltering. "Look at her face. Doesn't she look… familiar?"
"I don't—wait." Shao Shun's breath caught. "Holy hell… isn't this… Chu Yueli, the Fairy of Frozen Glass?"
For a moment, the air went still.
"Chu Yueli," Guo Qing whispered, almost in disbelief. "The younger sister of the Fairy of Frozen Beauty, Chu Yuechan?"
The realization sent a spark of fear through them both. Even in the Blue Wind Empire, that name carried divine weight.
But greed crushed fear faster than reason could whisper caution.
Guo Qing sneered, his eyes burning with feverish ambition. "So what if she is? What happens here, stays here. No one will ever know. Unless one of us talks…"
Shao Shun's lips curled. "Then no one will."
They both chuckled darkly, the sound scraping against the silence.
"She's not dead though," Guo Qing added, stepping closer. "Barely breathing. Just a spark left. But her meridians are shattered—her profound veins are gone. She's a cripple now. A breathing corpse."
"Perfect," Shao Shun breathed. "Then she can still… serve us before she dies."
At those words, Yueli's body flinched.
Inside, her mind screamed.
Outside, not even her finger twitched.
Tears spilled silently from her lifeless eyes, tracing the dirt and blood on her cheeks.
No… no… please… not like this.
Elder Sister… help me.
Someone… anyone…
Mihawk…
Shao Shun's grin widened as he tore at the remains of her tattered robe. "Heh, I've always dreamed of tasting the famed fairies of Frozen Cloud Asgard. Maybe I'll start with this one."
"Enjoy quickly," Guo Qing said coldly, drawing closer. "If the others reach the arena, we'll share her. Consider it… a reward before the inheritance."
Their laughter echoed through the cold chamber.
Yueli's heart pounded uselessly against her ribs, her eyes trembling as the two shadows loomed over her.
Please…
Save me…
ANYONE—
And then—
SHIIIIING!!!
The sharp whistle of a blade split the air.
Both men froze mid-step, heads snapping toward the sound. They barely had time to blink before a massive wave of bluish-green energy erupted from the fourth doorway, tearing through the air like a divine judgment.
The slash moved faster than lightning, the pressure alone cracking the stone floor beneath it.
Then—impact.
BOOM!!!
The energy engulfed them before either could react. Blood mist filled the air as two bodies were flung across the stage like broken dolls, crashing into the walls with sickening thuds. The aftershock howled through the arena, scattering dust and shattered ice.
And yet—by some impossible precision—the attack missed Chu Yueli entirely, the energy curving around her still body like it refused to defile her further.
"ARRRGHHHH!!!"
Guo Qing screamed, clutching the grotesque, glowing wound cleaved across his chest. Shao Shun lay beside him, his limbs trembling as he stared at the gash carved from shoulder to hip.
"This… This can't be…!" Guo Qing gasped, his voice trembling with both pain and disbelief.
He turned his head—slowly, weakly—toward the fourth doorway.
From the smoke and shattered stone came the sound.
Tud… Tud… Tud… Tud…
Each step echoed like a funeral drum, heavy and unhurried.
A tall figure emerged from the shadows, draped in a crimson coat that fluttered faintly in the rising wind of his own killing intent. His eyes burned a fierce gold, cutting through the dust like twin suns, and in his hand gleamed a sword as black as the void itself.
The man they had feared. The man they had plotted to destroy. The man who had sliced the heavens.
"Dracule…"
Guo Qing's voice faltered.
"Mihawk…!"
The name was more a curse than a call.
Yun Che stepped into the light, silent, cold, terrifyingly calm. Each movement carried the weight of absolute confidence—of power restrained, but never forgotten.
Behind him floated a faint, unseen shimmer—the spirit of Jasmine, her red hair ghostlike, her expression unreadable as she took in the carnage before them.
She said nothing.
But her silence was full of disgust.
Her divine eyes drifted to Chu Yueli's broken form—barely covered, blood staining her pale skin, her silver-brown hair spread like a halo over the stone. The sight twisted something inside Jasmine's chest.
"Disgusting," she muttered under her breath, her tone trembling not from fear—but from rage.
She knelt beside Yueli, extending a hand of shimmering light, examining the woman's condition. "Her life is faint… but still there."
Yun Che didn't answer.
The system's notifications chimed in his mind, cold and mechanical amid the quiet chaos:
===================
[Ding… Host has entered the Profound Suppressing Formation (Mark I).]
[Formation effect: -50% to strength and technique potency.]
[Countermeasure available. Scanning… Weakness found.]
[Deploying formation antivirus protocol.]
===================
A faint ripple of energy flowed from him, invisible yet absolute. The formation lines carved into the arena began to flicker—then die out, one by one.
The suppression faded instantly. The temperature dropped. The air itself trembled.
"You two…"
His voice was low, even—but it carried the weight of a collapsing mountain.
Guo Qing and Shao Shun froze where they were, their instincts screaming at them to run, though their bodies refused to obey.
Yun Che didn't even look at them yet. His attention was fixed on Chu Yueli. He knelt slowly beside her, his gloved hand hovering just over her cheek.
Up close, he could see everything—the faint tremor of her breath, the dull film clouding her once-beautiful eyes.
Her body was a ruin. Her aura, barely a whisper.
"You held on this long…"
His tone was quiet now, heavy with something rare—sorrow.
Jasmine turned her gaze to him. "She's nearly gone, Yun Che. Her body's destroyed, her meridians torn apart. Only her soul remains anchored."
Yun Che's face remained unnervingly calm. He tilted his head slightly and, in the hush that followed the carnage, addressed the system in his mind.
"System — run a full diagnostic scan."
A cold string of text answered him.
=====================
[Ding… Scanning.]
[Ding… Scan complete.]
[Ding… Subject: Chu Yueli. Summary of injuries detected.]
= Multiple bone fractures.
= Severed nerve fibers.
= Exploded muscle tissue.
= Severe hemorrhaging.
= Collapse of most profound channels; lost channeling capability.
= Several broken ribs, one dangerously displaced inward — risk of punctured lung and cardiac laceration.
[Warning: Do not move subject. One fractured rib has near-pierced the heart. Any major movement could be instantly fatal.]
[Ding… Consciousness window: 5.06 minutes remaining. Subject can see and hear; life signs steadily declining.]
========================
Yun Che closed his eyes for a heartbeat. The shadow of his hat hid the storm behind them. Even in this ruined, barely-breathing state, Chu Yueli's face was streaked with tears — raw, terrified, and somehow defiant. She could still see and plead and beg with eyes that no longer obeyed her.
He knelt and brushed the hair from her face with a steady hand, the motion almost tender against the harshness of the wound-stained stone.
"Please," he murmured, voice quiet but iron-clad. "Wait for me. I'll deal with them."
Beside her, Jasmine drifted in, a cold flame in the dim light. She regarded the two ruined elders, the blood, the cruelty — then her gaze snapped to Yun Che. There was a coiled, terrible promise in it.
"Make them pay for this," she said through clenched teeth. "If you don't, I will."
Yun Che's eyes — those uncanny golden eyes — didn't flinch. He felt the system's ticking countdown like a countdown to war at the back of his mind. Around them, dust settled. The two fallen men writhed and cursed. The rest of the tomb's hush waited, as if the stone itself dared anyone to move.
He lingered a moment longer, listening to the faint rasp of Yueli's breath, the soft click of the system's last advisory notes. Then he rose, the black blade at his side catching the low light and throwing it back like a promise.
Yun Che's gaze lingered on Chu Yueli's blood-streaked face as he murmured, his voice like ice.
"I was planning to."
"Haha! Dracule Mihawk!" Guo Qing barked out a laugh, though his trembling tone betrayed him. "You're too late. That woman's already finished! Curse your luck—arriving just moments too late!"
Realizing he had stepped into the Profound Suppressing Formation, both elders' fear began to fade. They forced down healing pills from their spatial rings, their wounds knitting back together as arrogance crept once more into their expressions.
================
[Ding… Countermeasures transmitting.]
[10%...]
[35%...]
================
Shao Shun smirked, his tone venomous. "We could kill you like her—but where's the fun in that? Better to break you slowly."
Yun Che ignored them.
He knelt beside Chu Yueli again, gently wiping the blood from her cheek.
Her face—once flawless—was now a ruin of bruises, burns, and ash.
Even so, her beauty hadn't vanished; it was merely hidden behind the scars left by cruelty.
================
[50%...]
[75%...]
[90%...]
================
He sighed softly, almost inaudibly.
If Little Fairy… or Qingyue saw her like this… what would they have done?
================
[100%. Countermeasures transmitted. Formation under host's control. Debuffs removed. New directive: Affect marked enemies only.]
================
"Dracule Mihawk!" Guo Qing roared as he hurled himself through the air, his Earth Profound sword gleaming with fiery energy. "Blame yourself for crossing those you shouldn't have!"
He swung down with all his strength—
CLANG!SMASH!
The blade shattered. Not cracked, not splintered—shattered into glittering fragments that rained across the arena floor.
Yun Che hadn't even drawn Yoru. He'd only raised his left arm.
Guo Qing's eyes bulged. "Wh–What…?! How—?! The formation—it should have—!"
Shao Shun stared, his voice shaking. "It shouldn't be possible… his strength—his aura—it's unaffected!"
Yun Che slowly straightened, brushing a few shards of the destroyed sword from his coat.
"Vibramantium," he said flatly to himself. "The most powerful and indestructible metal on this planet. Used to modify my blade… and my clothing."
He paused, lifting his golden eyes to them. "…what formation?"
The words hit harder than any strike.
He'd used advanced Armament Haki, creating micro-vibrations that shattered the sword on contact. The move was silent, surgical—terrifyingly efficient.
Then, without warning, he was gone.
To Guo Qing, it felt like the air had folded. In the next instant, Mihawk was in front of him.
"You demon!!!"
That was all he managed to say. A flash of black and gold blurred past his vision——and a crushing impact slammed into his abdomen.
BOOM!!!
Guo Qing was launched like a projectile, smashing into one of the towering light pillars at the edge of the arena. The stone cracked. His body convulsed. He tried to rise, but his limbs refused to move.
He barely had time to draw breath before—
SHOO—SHOO—
Two sharp sounds split the air. Guo Qing froze, blinking down at his chest. Twin shards of his own shattered sword were now buried deep in either side of his torso, piercing lung and heart in a perfect X.
He gasped, blood bubbling at his lips. His trembling hand rose weakly toward Mihawk, disbelief clouding his dying eyes.
Guo Qing's voice came out as a pathetic, trembling whisper. "Please… have mercy…"
Yun Che's expression didn't change. He looked at him as if the elder were already nothing more than a broken toy. "Mercy?" he said slowly. "Did you show mercy to her when she fought for her life? Did you show mercy when you set out to destroy her? Those blades in your chest are mercy enough." He stepped closer until his shadow fell across Guo Qing's face. "Don't make any sudden movements. The left blade is driven through your heart. You know what happens next."
A lesser swordsman might have finished them cleanly with a blade — a quick, merciful end. But mercy was not what these two men had earned. Yun Che turned his attention to Shao Shun. The man's knees trembled; a sour, hot stench rose from him. He was so frightened he was wetting himself.
Shao Shun wheeled and fled for the doorway as if speed could buy him pardon. Yun Che didn't run him down. He raised a single hand and unleashed a narrow spear of white light — Byakurai — that slammed into the elder's chest. Shao Shun doubled over, clutching at the wound, the breath torn out of him.
"ARRGGHHH! You demon! Our sect will—" the elder howled through blood and ragged breath.
"Will what?" Yun Che's voice was level, cold. "Bring a hundred sects? I never planned to spare either of you. You crossed a line. You made a woman cry." With that he stepped forward, grabbed Shao Shun by the throat, and ripped the sword from the man's waist. The old armor meant nothing to him; he lifted Shao Shun as if he weighed nothing and flung him into a light pillar at the arena's edge. Bone and pillar met with a sickening crack.
Before Shao Shun could recover, Yun Che threw the blade back. It drove through the elder's abdomen and pinned him to the pillar. Shao Shun screamed — the wound had ruptured his lungs, shredded his cultivation in a single, merciless strike. He would not die quickly; he would choke, suffocate, and drown in his own blood.
Jasmine watched from Yun Che's shoulder and let an expression that was almost a smirk cross her face. He had given them "mercy." It wasn't swift. It was far worse.
Yun Che ignored their pleading. He stooped and picked up the yellow talisman paper that had been used to trigger the Profound Suppressing Formation. He studied it for a fraction of a breath, then pinched it between finger and thumb and set it alight. The flames ate the paper; the formation sputtered and dissolved like mist in sunlight.
He turned toward Chu Yueli. She lay a ruined thing — face bruised, eyes glassed but still, maddeningly, conscious. Her chest rose in fitful, shallow pulls. The life in her was a candle guttering in a storm.
"Poor girl," Jasmine said softly, taut with anger. "She couldn't even end it herself. All she can do now is wait. Unless you plan to use the system's skill on her?"
Yun Che cupped her face with one hand and wiped blood from her cheek with the other. He didn't answer. His eyes — flat, yellow, dangerous — were all promise and a warning. He would not abandon her. Not now. Not after what they'd done.
Yun Che said nothing. He simply placed two fingers over the center of Chu Yueli's chest — right above her heart. The faint pulse beneath his fingertips was fading, weak and uneven. If the system was right about the nature of this skill, then there was no better time to use it.
His voice dropped to a murmur.
"Status Recovery."
A soft swoosh echoed through the chamber.
Light burst from beneath his hand — blinding, pure, and alive. In an instant, Chu Yueli's body responded. Bones cracked back into place with faint, delicate pops. Torn muscles began to weave themselves whole again. Shattered organs reshaped and pulsed with new vitality. It was as if time itself had been forced to rewind at his command.
The light around her grew brighter, blanketing her in a white radiance that filled the entire arena. Even Jasmine, who had seen divine healing in the Realm of the Gods, froze in disbelief.
Her voice trembled.
"This… this can't be possible."
The glow intensified. Her severed nerve channels reconnected — threads of blue energy knitting back into her veins. Her Profound Veins pulsed once, twice… and then roared to life. The aura of a Sky Profound cultivator surged outward, reborn from the ashes of despair.
Jasmine could only whisper in awe.
"He… actually reversed crippling. Not even the Divine Healers could do this. Now I understand why that ability's called Status Recovery… and why it can only be used once per day."
The light began to fade.
When it did, what emerged from within wasn't the broken woman who'd been lying in a pool of her own blood — it was someone reborn. Chu Yueli's hair spilled freely around her shoulders, its brownish-silver sheen glimmering under the remaining aura. Her skin was flawless once more, her face pristine, every scar erased as though it had never existed. The remnants of her tattered robe barely clung to her frame, revealing glimpses of the perfection she'd hidden beneath.
Yun Che blinked. He'd expected recovery — not this.
For the first time, he saw how closely she resembled Chu Yuechan: same calm grace, same delicate features, though her youth lent her a softness her sister no longer possessed. That silken hair, those quiet eyes, and—he cleared his throat—the same generous curves that apparently ran in the family.
She caught his lingering glance, her cheeks instantly reddening.
"How long," she muttered sharply, "are you going to look?"
He sighed. "Fine. I won't."
He reached into his inventory, retrieved a large towel, and draped it gently over her shoulders before turning away. "You'll get the wrong idea otherwise."
Behind him, Chu Yueli stirred with a weak groan. "Hnnn… Hurk…"
Her breathing steadied, and color returned to her cheeks. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open.
The first thing she saw was his back — tall, broad, and unmoving, that massive black sword rising behind him like a shadow cast by judgment itself.
"Mihawk…?"
Her voice was soft, almost uncertain, but the moment she spoke it, warmth blossomed in her chest. She remembered everything — the blood, the despair, and the blinding arc of power that saved her. He'd killed those men for her. He'd healed her when death was already claiming her.
Her throat tightened. There were a thousand questions in her mind, but none that seemed to matter right now.
Yun Che glanced back over his shoulder.
"Took you a while to wake up."
Chu Yueli tried to rise, but the breeze against her bare skin reminded her how little her ruined robe covered. Her face turned crimson, and she hastily clutched the towel tighter around her chest.
"Mihawk… I—"
He cut her off gently, voice even as ever.
"Save it. Get yourself—"
He didn't finish.
Because in that instant, Chu Yueli surged forward, the towel slipping as she threw her arms around him — pressing herself against his back, trembling.
For a heartbeat, the whole arena fell silent again — broken only by her uneven breathing and the faint hum of his sword at his side.
Keeping his usual calm expression, Yun Che asked quietly,
"What are you…?"
But before he could finish, he heard it—soft, trembling sobs muffled against his back.
Sob…Sob…
His eyes widened slightly.
"This is—don't tell me…"
He reached out with his senses, scanning her profound energy—and his suspicions were confirmed. Her aura was shifting, evolving, purifying. The rhythm, the calm frost that had once encased her heart—it was melting.
Her Ice Heart had shattered.
Without it, no disciple of Frozen Cloud Asgard could remain the same. Their composure, their detachment, their cultivated serenity—all gone. That she would cling to him like this was proof enough.
Chu Yueli held him tighter, trembling as if the warmth of his back was the only thing keeping her from falling apart. She didn't care that her state was unseemly, that her towel barely covered her, or that she was pressing herself against a man. None of it mattered.
She had come within a breath of losing everything—her life, her dignity, her soul.
Had he not appeared when he did, she would have been violated, broken, and forgotten.
Her shattered heart poured out through the tears now soaking his cloak.
For a long moment, Yun Che said nothing. He simply exhaled and placed one steady hand on her back, gently patting her shoulder, his other hand resting against her trembling arm. His touch was firm but careful, grounding.
To him, Chu Yueli wasn't Little Fairy's sister, or Qingyue's aunt, or the icy master of a proud sect. She wasn't a figure of grace or authority. Right now, she was just a terrified girl—one who had nearly died and found herself clutching to life through him.
Her voice came in broken fragments between sobs.
"Why… why did you save me? Sob I was just a burden to you… I couldn't even defeat those two… I was so scared… Sob My sister… Qingyue… everyone… Why am I still alive…?"
Every word shook her frame. Her tears came freely, unrestrained—years of buried emotion spilling out at once. Yun Che could feel it. The sorrow, the shame, the fear—everything Frozen Cloud Asgard had taught her to lock away was now flooding out like a cracked dam.
He stayed silent, letting her cry. It reminded him of that day—when Little Fairy had broken down in his arms after facing the twin dragons. That same fragility, that same desperate clinging to something warm, something real.
Inside, he sighed.
Maybe… breaking their Ice Hearts isn't mercy after all.
Across from them, Jasmine folded her arms, turning her head sharply. But Yun Che caught it—her pout, the faint narrowing of her eyes. She was jealous, of course. He didn't say anything, though the smirk that touched his lips gave him away.
Eventually, Chu Yueli's sobs began to quiet. Her breathing steadied, and she realized—mortifyingly—that she was still holding him. Her face flamed red. With a startled gasp, she quickly released him and stepped back, clutching the towel tighter around her chest.
She couldn't meet his eyes.
"I… I just did that…"
Her voice was barely above a whisper, her cheeks glowing scarlet. She remembered every second of it—the warmth of his back, the steadiness of his heartbeat, the safety she'd felt.
What have I done…?
She wanted to vanish into the floor.
Yun Che, however, just exhaled slowly, the faintest trace of a sigh escaping his lips—the kind that carried a mix of exasperation and quiet amusement. He glanced at her, his tone calm as ever.
"Looks like you're okay."
She stiffened, her embarrassment spiking further.
"I… I didn't mean to… I was just—"
He tilted his head slightly, golden eyes steady, unreadable behind that faint smirk.
And for once, Chu Yueli, the proud disciple of Frozen Cloud Asgard, was utterly speechless.
Yun Che's tone softened as he glanced over his shoulder.
"Don't worry about it. You're alive and well. That's all that matters."
Chu Yueli exhaled quietly, fingers tightening on the towel around her shoulders.
"Hnn… I don't know how you saved me. But I'm grateful."
He folded his arms. "Then you can start with the truth."
Her brows drew together. "Truth?"
His gaze sharpened. "Your name isn't Li Yue, is it?"
She froze. "I…"
"Don't bother hiding it," he said flatly. "You spoke plenty just now."
Color bloomed across her face before she sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. The cat was out of the bag.
"Hnnng… fine. Yes. I'm not Li Yue. My name is Chu Yueli of Frozen Cloud Asgard."
Yun Che raised an eyebrow. "The sister of Chu Yuechan?"
Her head snapped up. "How do you know that?"
He shrugged casually, masking the truth. "Those men mentioned it before. They seemed to know you well enough."
"Hnn." She nodded slightly. "The high-ranking members of our sect are widely known. It's not surprising the entire empire knows us."
"Then why are you here?"
"What do you mean?"
"I doubt this is some hoax to benefit your sect. You came here for your own reasons." His voice was calm, almost too calm. "Recognition, isn't it?"
Her eyes widened. He'd read her perfectly. After a moment, she nodded.
"Yes."
"Then say no more." He turned his back to her. "You can tell me the rest once we reach the tomb." His tone lowered a little, amused. "Also, you can't walk in there dressed like that."
He closed his eyes, giving her privacy—and maybe silently thanking her for the brief, accidental glimpse of perfection. Her resemblance to Little Fairy was uncanny, though her youth and unbraided hair made her seem softer, more vulnerable. Still, he forced himself to breathe out and keep his composure.
Chu Yueli's cheeks flared red again. She dashed toward the nearest doorway, clutching the towel. Fortunately, her spatial ring was still intact. After several minutes, she returned—this time dressed in her sect's pure white robes, elegant and dignified once more. For a moment, Yun Che almost mistook her for Chu Yuechan. The same grace, the same eyes… but her unbound silver hair and the faint blush on her face gave her away.
Before they could speak, she glanced toward the stage where the two elders still clung to life, writhing weakly. Her eyes went cold. She gathered a bit of profound energy into her palm—then, without hesitation, flicked her fingers. Two sharp icicles shot through the air.
Shhk!Shhk!
Both icicles pierced true—straight through the groins of the groaning elders. Their screams echoed across the arena, high and pitiful, before fading into gurgled silence.
Yun Che winced. "Damn… this woman's scary," he muttered under his breath. Jasmine smirked faintly, clearly amused.
When Chu Yueli rejoined him, her expression was composed again, but her aura still shimmered with cold fury. He found himself studying her more closely—her elegance, her quiet strength, the hidden depth of emotion behind those silver eyes. It baffled him that the world had forgotten someone like her. In the original story, she had barely been a footnote. A shame.
She lowered her gaze slightly, voice quiet.
"Tell me one thing."
Yun Che met her eyes. "Go on."
Her bangs shaded her face as she spoke.
"Why did you save me? Do I have any use to you? Or will you discard me once we're done here? You know that only one of us can survive this tomb…"
Her words trembled with the remnants of fear and disbelief. She didn't understand him—didn't trust the idea that someone like him would go this far for her.
Yun Che paused, genuinely taken aback. She wasn't wrong to question him. If she knew who he really was—or what he planned—she might never have asked. Still, there was only one answer he could give that fit both Mihawk's persona and his own heart.
He looked at her calmly, that same unshakable poise in his golden eyes.
"Because I took a liking to you."
For a heartbeat, silence. Then—
Her eyes widened, a flush spreading across her cheeks. "Eh? Like… me?"
He gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug.
"You make a better traveling companion than those other idiots."
She blinked, lips parting, unable to form a reply. Her heart was racing, her face warm, and for the first time since her Ice Heart had shattered… she didn't feel cold at all.
"Oh…" Chu Yueli's voice softened — a note of disappointment lingering in it — before she smiled faintly.
"Then… my thanks to you for saving my life. I don't know what kind of method you used to heal me, but… I suppose everyone has their secrets. I am in your debt."
She turned her gaze away before he could respond, focusing instead on the distant doorway ahead. The only thing separating them from it was a vast chasm — wide, bottomless, and utterly impassable. No bridge. No path. Just darkness yawning beneath their feet.
Then, without warning, all four pillars of light around the arena flared to life at once.
A low hum filled the air as their lights converged toward the center, swirling together into a blinding orb above the stage. The entire chamber trembled, dust raining from the ceiling as the energy condensed and burst outward in radiant waves.
Chu Yueli shielded her eyes. "I thought only one winner was allowed to move on?"
Yun Che's golden gaze followed the swirling light.
"When you lost your fight, the first pillar lit up — marking your defeat. The next two lit when I… dealt with those men. Good thing the formation didn't reset when I healed you."
Her lips curved faintly. "That would have been troublesome, wouldn't it?"
Before he could answer, the sphere above them exploded — not violently, but beautifully. Streams of aqua-blue light poured down like liquid glass, weaving themselves into a narrow pathway stretching across the chasm toward the waiting doorway.
The light shimmered with strange runic lines that pulsed like veins. It didn't look solid — more like a mirage — yet when Chu Yueli hesitantly stepped forward and pressed her palm against it, the surface rippled under her touch, then stilled, perfectly stable.
Her breath caught. "It's… real."
Even Jasmine, floating invisibly nearby, couldn't hide her awe.
"Incredible… what kind of tomb is this?"
Yun Che's expression darkened slightly. "One that's far more than a tomb. If we find what I think we will, I'll explain everything at the end."
That caught Jasmine's attention instantly. "If we find it? Wait — you mean that mysterious orb? You know what it is?"
He didn't look at her. "Sort of. But I need to be sure first."
The glowing path reminded him too much of something from another lifetime — from his world. The design, the texture, even the light itself. He could almost remember standing in front of a temple just like this one, once upon a time.
The resemblance was… impossible. And yet, there it was.
Chu Yueli glanced back over her shoulder, her robe swaying lightly in the ethereal glow.
"Are you coming?"
Without waiting for an answer, she turned again and started walking, her steps careful but sure. She didn't realize the faint blush coloring her cheeks — nor how her tone had softened when she spoke to him.
Jasmine crossed her arms and gave Yun Che a side glance. "What's with her?"
He shrugged lightly. "Who knows."
He was about to follow when—
Click… click… click…
A mechanical rumble echoed beneath the arena floor. Yun Che froze as a pedestal slowly rose from the center of the stage — identical to the one he'd found in the previous hall.
It wasn't built into the altar this time. It had simply… appeared, as though pulled up from the earth itself.
Jasmine's eyes widened. "Another one."
Yun Che's expression hardened. "Yeah. Which means—"
[Ding… A Soul Imprint is detected on the pedestal.]
Chu Yueli turned back, curiosity glinting in her eyes. "What now?"
When she saw the glowing pedestal, she stepped closer, brows furrowed. "Why would they build these things and leave them empty?"
Yun Che didn't answer. He and Jasmine exchanged a glance, both already sensing the faint trace of soul energy above the pedestal. He raised his hand, hovering it just above the surface—
Click.
A wave of light pulsed outward, and the pedestal ignited in a soft azure glow.
Then, just like before, a ghostly figure began to take form — veiled, graceful, and radiant.
Chu Yueli blinked in confusion. "What is it? I can't see anything—just the light."
But Yun Che and Jasmine could.
And when they saw who appeared above the pedestal, their eyes widened.
The same veiled woman — the Moon Empress herself.
But this time… she wasn't alone.
Beside her, another figure began to materialize — smaller, humanoid, but unmistakably not human.
A sphere of golden light hovered over its chest, pulsing with divine rhythm.
Yun Che's breath caught. His voice dropped to a whisper.
"No way… I never expected she'd encounter that in this world…"
Jasmine turned sharply to him, eyes narrowing. "Yun Che… what are you talking about? What is that?"
But his gaze remained fixed on the apparition, heart pounding.
"The thing that started everything…"