The morning sun rose above the Tianwu Sect, casting golden light over the main dueling platform. A crowd had already gathered, buzzing with disbelief and excitement.
"Is it true? Lin Xian challenged Yun Aochen?!"
"That's suicide. Yun Aochen is a core disciple with a Heavenly Rank talent!"
Whispers echoed like thunder across the sect. Lin Xian stood at the edge of the platform, clad in a dark battle robe, his black hair tied back, his expression calm—too calm.
Across from him, Yun Aochen smirked arrogantly, dressed in embroidered azure robes, his spirit sword hovering beside him like a living dragon.
"You've got guts, I'll give you that," Yun said, voice sharp like frost. "But this isn't some back-alley brawl. I'll end you in one move."
Lin Xian met his eyes. "If you can."
A tremor ran through the crowd. No one had ever spoken to Yun Aochen like that.
The elder officiating the duel gave a reluctant nod. "Begin!"
A flash of light. Yun Aochen moved first, his spirit pressure slamming into Lin Xian like a tidal wave. A storm of sword energy burst forth—fast, deadly, overwhelming.
[System Alert: Dragon Soul Mode — Engaged]
[Boost Applied: x1.7 Combat Reflexes]
[Skill Activated: Dragon Breath Strike]
Time slowed for Lin Xian.
He shifted, flowing like water through the deadly slashes. In one breath, he was inside Yun Aochen's guard.
One punch.
The sound was like thunder.
Yun Aochen was sent flying, crashing into the far edge of the arena. Blood splattered from his mouth. His sword clattered across the stone floor.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Even the elders watching from above stood in stunned disbelief.
Lin Xian stood alone in the center of the arena, unmoving, his shadow long under the rising sun.
"You lost," he said coldly. "Now kneel."