The arena fell into a hushed silence. Thousands of eyes fixed on the two figures now facing one another. One calm as a still lake, the other sharp as an unsheathed blade.
Long Chen vs. Zhao Feng.
The clash between dragon and sword was about to shake the Azure Cloud Sect.
Zhao Feng's sword hummed in his grasp, vibrating with suppressed killing intent. His gaze was cold, his lips curled into a sneer.
"You've enjoyed your moment in the sun, but it ends now. Today, everyone will remember that the sword reigns supreme."
Long Chen stood silently, hands folded behind his back, his golden eyes faintly glowing. His calm expression only stoked Zhao Feng's fury.
"Draw your weapon!" Zhao Feng snapped.
Long Chen tilted his head. "You are not yet worthy."
The crowd erupted. Some jeered at Long Chen's arrogance, others cheered at his domineering confidence. Elders frowned, while Sect Master Ye Tianxing stroked his beard with interest.
Zhao Feng moved first. His body blurred, qi surging into his blade. The sword swept forward, splitting the air with a piercing shriek.
Clang!
Long Chen raised his arm, golden scales flickering faintly across his skin. He deflected the strike bare-handed, sparks flying.
The crowd gasped.
"He blocked a sword with his hand?!"
"That's madness!"
Zhao Feng's eyes narrowed. He pulled back, then unleashed a flurry of strikes. His blade moved like a storm, each cut sharper than the last. The arena floor cracked under the force of his strikes.
Yet Long Chen stepped lightly, weaving through the storm like flowing water. Every strike missed by a hair, his calm expression never wavering.
Finally, Zhao Feng roared. His aura surged, sword qi bursting outward like a wave.
"Azure Cloud Sword Art — Seventh Form!"
A blade of light several meters long swept toward Long Chen, threatening to cleave him in two.
The crowd held their breath. Even elders leaned forward.
But Long Chen's golden eyes flared. His aura erupted, a draconic roar shaking the heavens.
Dragon Might.
The invisible pressure crashed down like a tidal wave. Disciples in the stands trembled, some even collapsing to their knees. Even Zhao Feng faltered mid-strike, his body freezing for an instant as primal fear gripped his heart.
That instant was enough.
Long Chen stepped forward, his palm striking Zhao Feng's chest. Boom! The force sent him flying across the stage, his sword tumbling from his hand.
The crowd exploded.
"He… he suppressed Zhao Feng?!"
"Dragon Might… it felt like the heavens themselves roaring!"
"This is no ordinary bloodline!"
But Zhao Feng was not finished. He coughed blood, rage blazing in his eyes.
"You think you've won? I'll show you my true sword!"
He roared, qi surging violently. The sword in his hand trembled, then glowed with dazzling azure light. His aura spiked to its peak.
"Azure Cloud Sword Art — Final Form!"
The strike tore through the air, a blinding arc of azure light descending like a judgment from the heavens.
Even elders stirred. "That move… he's forcing his cultivation beyond its limit!"
Long Chen's golden eyes narrowed. He raised his hand slowly, qi swirling into his palm. The phantom of a golden dragon coiled around him, its roar shaking the skies.
"Devour."
The azure sword light struck his palm—then shattered. The energy dissolved instantly, sucked into the roaring dragon phantom.
"What?!" Zhao Feng's eyes widened in horror.
Long Chen stepped forward, his voice cold.
"Your sword… is sharp. But against a dragon, even swords break."
His palm struck Zhao Feng once more, this time infused with devouring qi. The arrogant genius screamed as his qi was ripped from his body, his cultivation crumbling. He collapsed to the arena floor, unconscious.
The arena fell into stunned silence. Even the Sect Master's eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable.
"That technique… it wasn't just suppression. It devoured qi itself."
Elders whispered nervously.
"Such a power… it's too dangerous."
"If this child rises unchecked, who can stop him?"
"Or… perhaps he is the one we've been waiting for."
Above them all, Li Qingyue's violet eyes shimmered faintly. For the first time, a trace of genuine emotion flickered across her face—curiosity mixed with something else, something deeper.
Far beyond the arena, in the depths of the void, crimson eyes glowed faintly. Mo Lingxi watched through unseen cracks in reality, her smile both enchanting and cruel.
"My little dragon… every step you take makes you more delicious. When the time comes, I'll devour you whole."
Her voice echoed through the heavens, unheard by all but fate itself.
The announcer's voice trembled as he declared, "Winner: Long Chen."
The crowd erupted in chaos, some cheering, some trembling. Long Chen stood calmly in the center of the stage, his robe fluttering lightly, golden eyes unshaken.
He had not just won. He had declared to the sect — the dragon has awakened.