The crowd buzzed as Shen Zian stepped off the dueling platform. The whispers trailed after him like shadows.
"Who is he?"
"He used no beast companion…"
"That wasn't elemental qi—it was... corrupted?"
"He moved like a panther, but there was no summoning ritual!"
Zian ignored them all.
His breathing was steady. His blood hummed with energy from the Blood-Fang Extraction, the echoes of his devoured beasts still fresh. The surge from using three traits simultaneously had left his core strained, but intact.
Behind him, Mei Xuan waited at the edge of the preparation tier.
"You fought like a beast incarnate," she said with a half-smile. "And now the judges are watching."
Indeed, at the top tier of the terrace, one of the Spirit Judges rose.
He was a man of peculiar appearance—tall, robed in black and gold, and wearing a double-faced porcelain mask. One side smiled, serene and elegant. The other, twisted in a grimace of rage. His voice carried without effort.
"Contestant Shen Zian. You fought with no companion, but your methods were efficient. Perhaps… too efficient."
Zian looked up at the man without flinching.
"Judge Xun," one of the other officials murmured, "You suspect foul play?"
"I suspect unusual play," the masked man replied. "He is not bound to the norms of Spirit-Taming. And yet… he calls upon beast abilities."
Zian raised his voice calmly. "I use what the heavens let me survive with."
"Explain," Judge Xun said.
Slowly, Zian reached into his robe and produced three beast cores—boar, fox, and panther—each one dimmed, faint, used. But still stable. Their residual energy barely clung to their structures.
He held them up.
"These are my partners. I don't bind beasts—I devour their essence."
A collective intake of breath echoed through the arena.
Even Shen Liang, seated among the Shen Clan elders, narrowed his eyes.
"Corpse path?" one sect elder muttered.
"No… it's similar—but not necromancy."
"He absorbs beast traits directly? That's forbidden…"
Judge Xun tilted his head slightly. The smiling half of the mask gleamed in the sun.
"You walk the razor's edge, Zian. Beast core fusion is not a sanctioned path. Many consider it abomination."
"Yet no rule bars me from entering," Zian said coolly. "Your tournament seeks strength, not tradition."
That silenced the murmurs.
Then, to everyone's surprise—Judge Xun laughed. Not a mocking laugh, but one of interest.
"Very well. I shall sponsor your next match personally. Let's see how far this… unconventional predator can climb."
Later that evening – Inner Terrace Courtyard
Zian sat cross-legged on a flat stone beneath a willow tree, corpse flame swirling gently in his dantian. He had withdrawn the shadowpanther's stealth echo and focused on healing the qi backlash in his limbs. The Blood-Fang Extraction was powerful—but dangerous when overused.
He needed more cores.
Stronger ones.
Ones that wouldn't shatter after a single use.
"You're not just fighting for a key, are you?" Mei asked, sitting nearby with arms crossed. "You're fighting for something else."
Zian didn't open his eyes.
"I'm fighting for my future. And for retribution."
Mei nodded slowly. "Your brother watched that match."
"I know."
"He's going to come for you soon."
"I hope he does."
Meanwhile – Shen Clan Pavilion Tent
Shen Liang stood at the edge of the pavilion, eyes narrowed.
The flames in the lamp beside him flickered unnaturally, stirred by his inner qi.
"Are we certain it's him?" he asked.
A cloaked figure beside him nodded. "We've confirmed it. That rogue cultivator is Shen Zian. Somehow, he's still alive. And stronger."
Liang's grip on his sheath tightened.
"I crushed his dantian. I watched the light leave his eyes."
"You missed something," the figure said. "Or… something else intervened."
Shen Liang turned, his voice colder than ice.
"Then it's time I finish the job. Permanently."