The day after Nalan Yanran's crushing defeat, the arena felt different. It wasn't just tension — it was caution. Contestants who once strutted into the ring now measured every step, every breath. Nobody wanted to be the next name on Xiao Chen's list.
The remaining fights trickled by. One saw a broad-shouldered Dou Shi use his twin spears to carve his way through a nimble opponent, each thrust leaving slicing trails of wind in its wake. Another ended with a quiet, pale fighter blanketing the stage in shimmering frost, forcing his adversary to yield before the cold consumed his limbs. Then came the brutal, ugly brawl where a man from the Black-Corner Region, fighting with nothing but raw power and crude techniques, smashed his way to victory with sheer force.
By the end, the field had been narrowed down. No one bothered cheering.
---
Xiao Yan sat cross-legged in a quiet corner of the waiting hall, away from the noise of the other fighters. His hands rested loosely on his knees, but his mind was elsewhere.
His gaze settled on Xiao Chen.
The boy sat across the room, saber laid across his lap, leaning casually against a stone pillar. He hadn't moved much since his last fight. That same eerie, unnerving smile still played on his lips — as if the world itself amused him.
Xiao Yan scowled.
The image of that phantom loomed in his mind. It wasn't just a construct of Dou Qi. It had moved with weight, with presence, almost like it had a will of its own.
"How can Dou Qi take human form?" Xiao Yan asked abruptly, his words breaking the silence between him and the old soul in his ring.
Yao Lao's chuckle was soft, but there was no humor in it. "You've seen how Dou Qi reacts to elemental infusion — how it dances with fire, how it flows like water, how it can be sharpened like steel. But give it spirituality, boy… and it changes."
"Spirituality?" Xiao Yan pressed.
"Exactly. The strongest Dou Techniques — true peak methods — are born when energy, spirit, and intent fuse into one. That phantom wasn't just Dou Qi, Xiao Yan. It was shaped by his heart."
Xiao Yan's eyes narrowed. "You're saying it was alive?"
Yao Lao paused. "In a way. You know that Heavenly Flames possess spirituality. They live, in their own sense. With the right control, Dou Qi can be given a shape that moves with its wielder's will. He's done that — though how a demonic cultivator of all people managed such fine control, I cannot say."
Xiao Yan leaned back against the wall, his jaw tight. "So it's possible to fight him with something like that."
"Possible?" Yao Lao scoffed. "Necessary."
Xiao Yan glanced down at his hand, opening and closing his fist. "Then teach me."
The old soul's voice softened. "I've been thinking about that myself. Your flames are different, boy. They aren't bound by corruption or malice. They burn clean, but they're alive. If you can temper your Dou Qi and bind it to the essence of your Heavenly Flame, you may shape it — not into a simple weapon… but a phantom of your own."
Xiao Yan's lips curled into a faint smirk. "A phantom of fire."
"More than fire," Yao Lao corrected. "A manifestation of you."
The boy exhaled, closing his eyes, feeling the restless heat of the Green Lotus Core Flame stir within him. A technique like that… it would take everything he had to master. But if Xiao Chen could do it, so could he.