Through Zhuge Su Yeon's Eyes
The procession of whispers began quietly.
From scattered points in the stands, voices rose.
— "The Zhuge clan has only been lucky so far."— "They've faced weak opponents."— "They can't win every match anymore."
Simple words, easy to remember and repeat.With my spiritual sense, I could see each of the ones staging this little performance.Some wore clothing far too plain to hide their martial bearing. Others were common townsfolk—or almost—weighted down by the gleam of freshly earned coins in their pockets.Bribery, disguises... dirty strategies.
I heard it all. And to be honest, I was amused.But I didn't lift a finger.
Public opinion? Not a currency I intended to collect.I wasn't competing for political posts in the city, nor did I care to be applauded in council meetings, nor to sell the image of a popular hero.If yesterday had briefly handed me the glow of collective approval, that was all it was: a coincidence.And if now a few agitators wanted to burn their energy snuffing it out... let them.
The crowd could change its mind as often as it wished.It would not alter a single one of my moves.
After all, my final objective for the Zhuge clan had always been—and still was—seclusion.
The fights passed before my eyes like leaves drifting down a lazy river.For several rounds, no Zhuge entered the arena, and the crowd's focus diluted into predictable duels where nothing truly interesting occurred.
Inside, however, I felt a quiet satisfaction.If the rival clans planned to stain the Zhuge's image with more defeats, I could only apologize in advance—because they were bound to be disappointed.
The Zhuge still left in the competition were not ones who could be eliminated by tricks or cheap theatrics.They had weaknesses, of course. Everyone does.But not weaknesses that youths from this small city, bound by the narrow skies of Gray Sky, could exploit.
What came next... would be far more interesting.
And almost as if fate wished to challenge my thoughts, a Zhuge name was called soon after.It was the twenty-third match of the day.
At last, the little predator of the Zhuge would step into the ring.
Zhuge Fen.The youngest of my ten prodigies, and yet the one most capable of turning an arena into her personal hunting ground.
On the other side, her opponent waited.Ninth level of Body Refinement, a robust youth from the Tie Xuan clan, his muscles as dense as his Qi.
That was natural.
At this stage of the tournament, it was unlikely to see evenly matched cultivation levels; pairings had become a silent game of interests and manipulation.
Frankly, I doubted any of my youths would face an equal opponent without the fight being carefully "arranged."
The battle began without delay.
The Tie Xuan youth advanced with the calculated heaviness of one carrying his own fortress. He was a defense specialist, and his body shouted that truth. Broad shoulders, solid stance, muscles built to absorb impact. He was simply a wall.A small mountain of flesh and Qi.
The fight began to resemble Rong's—except the roles were reversed.
Zhuge Fen didn't throw herself at him in a direct attempt to break through.No.She circled lightly, steps quick, gauging distance like a fox sniffing at the edge of an enemy's territory. To those unable to read the true flow of battle, it might have looked like she was searching for a gap in his defense.
But I knew the truth.Fen was playing.
With each step, each turn, the smile tugging at her lips made it clear: this was a provocation.A silent message for Rong about his previous fight.
Rong and Ren both had a... peculiar relationship with Fen.There was the instinct to protect, of course—inevitable when the youngest, smallest of the group lived among two giants in physique and temperament. But there was also something more: respect.Respect earned by force.
Fen didn't need size to impose presence.Among the ten, she was the one most capable of breaking any defense.The reason was simple: a rare, near-perfect fusion of killer instinct and martial technique.She didn't just attack—she knew where, when, and how to strike so that an enemy's defense became nothing more than decoration.
The crowd might have seen only a young girl circling a larger opponent.I saw a predator testing prey, circling, taunting, until patience became a mistake.
In the end, as entertaining as it was to watch Fen toy with the Tie Xuan youth, I felt compelled to intervene.There was still a tournament to progress—and a sun far too high for prolonged games.
I leaned forward slightly, just enough for my voice to cross the distance like an invisible breath.A whisper that reached no one else but her:
— "Fen... it's too sunny to play."
Even from afar, she heard.She turned her face toward me, smile intact, and nodded once.
Then she stepped back twenty paces from her opponent.Her right hand slid to her belt, drawing the first dagger with the care of one unveiling a hidden secret. The left followed soon after.
The cold gleam of the blades caught the morning light—and in that moment, the game was over.
Fen leaned forward, her stance somewhere between a sprinter waiting for the starting shot and a feline about to pounce on prey.The silence in the arena did not come from the crowd—who still murmured and speculated—but from the atmosphere itself, tightening around her.
Behind her small frame, the air began to whirl.First, a subtle shift, almost imperceptible, then a miniature whirlwind formed, sharp and agitated, as if the arena itself breathed with her.It was the gathering of Qi through the Free Wind Step, compressing power into her muscles and meridians until every nerve seemed to vibrate.
At the same time, the daggers in her hands darkened, slowly taking on a violet hue. Tiny sparks of energy flickered along the blades, like impatient lightning trapped inside a storm.
All of this took less than three seconds.But to those watching, it was enough to sear the image into memory: a moment of pure tension, where every fiber of her body declared that something fatal was about to happen.
And then, Fen moved.
The burst was so fast that most eyes in the arena saw only a blur.The next instant, she was already five meters behind the Tie Xuan youth, standing calmly, sliding her daggers back into her belt as if nothing had happened.
Her opponent remained upright for a moment longer before collapsing forward, unconscious, a deep cut marking the center of his chest.
To the crowd, it was almost impossible to tell if the boy was dead or alive.
Many didn't even seem to grasp how Fen had brought him down—for even among elders of the three great clans, few could truly follow her with their eyes.
For me, there was no mystery.I knew exactly what had happened—and I recognized every detail.
The first time I had seen Fen perform this combination, my instinctive reaction had been something rare.
An immediate compliment. And well deserved.
What she had done was, in theory, simple:She launched herself with the force of the Free Wind Step, reaching absurd speed, and unleashed five consecutive strikes with the Crescent Lightning Blade.Each strike hit the exact same spot, stacking damage upon damage, compounding like waves until it became a devastating impact.
But in practice...The precision required to do this, at that speed, with such accuracy, was not merely absurd—it was inhuman.And Fen achieved it by instinct alone.
It was, undeniably, the talent of a genius.
As for the Tie Xuan youth, he was alive.Not from natural resilience, and certainly not by chance.But from obedience and mercy.
I had forbidden Fen from striking lethal points.It didn't matter that she had the ability to kill effortlessly.It didn't matter that this world was, in its essence, far more brutal than any memory I carried from Earth.
Fen was only fourteen.And no matter how much of a predator she was by nature, I would not allow a girl who still smiled like a child to be turned into a machine of blood and death.