The chamber fell silent the moment Shen Hao and Yao Jun faced each other.
Merchants stopped counting spirit stones. Healers set aside bandages mid-wrap. Even the factions that had been whispering politics for months went still, every eye turning toward the center of the stone floor where two figures now stood.
Shen Hao's expression was calm, his aura coiled tightly within his frame like a fire waiting for breath. Yao Jun smiled faintly, arms folded loosely, as if this duel was nothing more than a conversation to him.
"Three years," one cultivator murmured near the edge of the chamber. "Three years and neither's been touched."
"Who wins?" another whispered.
"Shen Hao's fire will burn him alive."
"No… Yao Jun's holding back. I can feel it."
The wagers began in hurried whispers. Spirit stones, herbs, techniques, anything of value clinked together in hasty trades as cultivators staked what little they had on the outcome.
Lingfeng's voice rang lazily from Shen Hao's hand. "Master, the whole chamber's betting on you. No pressure."
Shen Hao ignored him, his eyes locked on Yao Jun.
Finally, Yao Jun spoke, his voice even as running water. "This isn't for pride," he said, loud enough for all to hear. "It isn't for leadership or control. It's to see who we truly are."
Shen Hao gave a single nod.
They bowed, not the bow of rulers or generals, but the brief fist-in-palm salute of cultivators honoring the fight to come.
Then the ground cracked beneath them as they moved.
The first exchange was nothing but speed.
Shen Hao blurred forward, Stormbreak Steps carrying him across the floor in a single rush. Yao Jun shifted to meet him, his own movement art flowing like wind over water, soft yet precise.
Fists clashed. Qi rippled outward in concentric waves, dust spiraling upward as stone cracked beneath their feet. Neither gave ground.
Shen Hao's fist burned with the Flowing Ember Art, heat distorting the air around his strikes. Yao Jun met each blow with calm deflections, his movements coiled with power that never quite revealed itself.
They split apart after a dozen blows, the floor scorched where Shen Hao had stepped, cracked where Yao Jun had planted his feet.
The chamber roared with cheers.
But neither fighter smiled.
"Master," Lingfeng drawled, "he's faster than I thought. Might actually make you sweat."
Shen Hao tightened his stance, flames curling faintly along his forearms. "Good."
Yao Jun straightened slowly, that faint smile never fading. "Shall we begin again?"
The second round began with no signal.
Shen Hao surged forward, Stormbreak Steps blurring his form into afterimages. In a breath, he was at Yao Jun's flank, fist blazing with Flowing Ember Qi.
Yao Jun spun, meeting the strike with a palm strike wrapped in pale-blue energy. Flame and wind collided, exploding in a shockwave that sent dust and pebbles skittering across the chamber floor.
Neither waited for the smoke to clear.
Shen Hao unleashed a sweeping kick, heat trailing like a burning arc. Yao Jun leapt over it, countering midair with a spear-hand thrust that cracked the stone where Shen Hao had stood a blink earlier.
The crowd gasped.
"Too fast… I can't even follow!" someone shouted.
Qi blasts lit the chamber like lightning strikes. Shen Hao's Whispering Gale Slash carved invisible blades through the air, tearing grooves into the black stone floor. Yao Jun weaved between them with impossible grace, his counterstrikes hammering like a storm against Shen Hao's defenses.
They closed again, fists and feet blurring, each clash echoing like drumbeats. Shen Hao's flames roared hotter with every strike, the Flowing Ember Art cycling his Qi faster, harder, until each punch carried a shockwave of heat.
But Yao Jun remained maddeningly calm, his strikes like gusts of wind cutting through wildfire, redirecting, scattering, never breaking.
Lingfeng's voice barked in Shen Hao's mind, sharp now. "He's reading you, Master! Stop letting him control the rhythm!"
Shen Hao's eyes hardened. In a flash, he dropped low, vanishing in a burst of speed. Yao Jun pivoted, too late. Shen Hao erupted behind him, fist slamming into his guard with a thunderous crack that sent Yao Jun skidding backward across the floor.
Cheers exploded around the chamber.
But Yao Jun didn't fall. He wiped blood from his lip, smiling faintly. "Finally," he murmured. "You're awake."
Then he moved, and for the first time, Shen Hao felt real danger.
The floor cracked beneath Yao Jun's feet as he launched forward, his speed multiplying in an instant. Shen Hao barely brought up his guard before the first strike crashed against it like a battering ram, the impact shaking his arms numb.
Yao Jun didn't give him time to breathe. A flurry of palm strikes and sweeping kicks followed, each carrying compressed wind Qi that detonated on impact. The air itself screamed under the pressure, forming slicing gusts that left shallow cuts along Shen Hao's arms and shoulders.
The crowd roared as the pace doubled, then doubled again.
Shen Hao countered with everything he had, the Flowing Ember Art roaring through his meridians, embers flaring like falling stars with every strike. His fists carved fiery trails through the air, each blow meeting Yao Jun's wind-charged attacks in midair explosions that shook the entire chamber.
The watching cultivators stumbled back, shielding themselves from the shockwaves.
"Monsters…" someone whispered. "They're both monsters."
Lingfeng's voice crackled through the chaos. "Master, stop trading blows! Make him chase you, Stormbreak Steps, now!"
Shen Hao vanished in a flicker of speed. Yao Jun's next strike cut through empty air, and for the first time, his composure wavered.
Shen Hao reappeared above him, Whispering Gale Slash condensed into a single invisible blade. It fell like judgment itself, a strike so fast the air cracked as it descended.
Yao Jun raised both arms, Qi erupting around him like a cyclone. The blade struck, and the explosion swallowed them both in fire and wind.
When the smoke cleared, they stood facing each other across a scorched, cracked floor. Both were bleeding. Both were smiling.
Shen Hao's chest heaved. Yao Jun's eyes glinted with something new, excitement.
Neither moved for a heartbeat. Then, as one, they charged.
The air itself split as they collided again.
Shen Hao's Stormbreak Steps blurred him into afterimages, his body flickering from side to side like lightning cutting through clouds. Each strike of his fist carried the roar of the Flowing Ember Art, flames spiraling into burning arcs that threatened to engulf the entire platform.
Yao Jun met him head-on, wind Qi swirling around his arms and legs like miniature hurricanes. His movements grew sharper, faster, every blow aiming not just to block but to dismantle Shen Hao's rhythm entirely.
They became a storm within the chamber, flame and wind clashing, scattering sparks and stone shards in every direction. The spectators barely dared to breathe.
And then, in the middle of the chaos, Shen Hao felt it.
A pulse.
Deep inside his dantian, faint but unmistakable, the thin, trembling barrier between the Beginning Realm and the Demi-Conqueror Realm. It quivered with every surge of Qi, as though the battle itself was hammering against it from the inside.
I'm close… he realized. One more step, and..d....
Yao Jun spun low, sweeping a kick across the ground, wind Qi bursting from his leg like a shockwave. Shen Hao vaulted over it, twisting midair, both fists igniting in crimson flame.
Yao Jun rose to meet him, his own Qi roaring into a spiral of pale blue, and for a single, suspended heartbeat, they hurled everything into one final strike.
Fire and wind slammed together, the blast erupting in a thunderclap that drowned out all sound. Light and heat swallowed the chamber.
When the smoke finally drifted away, both Shen Hao and Yao Jun stood several meters apart, fists lowered, chests heaving.
The floor between them was shattered.
Neither moved. Neither spoke.
Then, at the same moment, both of them let out a long, exhausted breath.
"…A tie," Yao Jun said at last, a faint grin tugging at his lip.
Shen Hao exhaled sharply, sweat running down his jaw. "A tie."
The crowd erupted. Cheers, shouts, the stamping of feet against stone.
But Shen Hao hardly heard them. He could still feel the trembling in his core, that barrier. That faint promise. The Demi-Conqueror Realm was within reach.
And Yao Jun, watching him with sharp eyes, seemed to know it too.