The Arena Shifts
The sun had begun to dip, painting the serpent banners in red and gold. The braziers hissed, their green flames twisting higher as the tournament reached its most brutal stages.
Blood still streaked the black stone platform. The air was heavy with venom smoke and the stink of sweat and fear.
The crowd of disciples whispered endlessly, their voices hissing like a pit of serpents.
"Shen Lian broke Bao Zhi."
"No one ever broke those scales before."
"He's not a disciple anymore. He's something else."
But others muttered differently:
"Zhao Yunhai hasn't even shown his true strength yet."
"Wei Jing's poisons kill before you even breathe them in."
"Jiang Fei's spear is untouchable. Against him, Shen Lian will fall."
The names of the champions rippled across the arena. The tension was no longer who would win—it was who would face Shen Lian next.
⸻
The Elders
In the Hall of Green Flames above, the elders sat in uneasy silence. Some leaned forward, eager. Others whispered in fear.
Elder Han muttered, "If he fights again, he will reveal himself. Then we kill him in the open, and no one can protest."
Another hissed, "No—let him win again. Let him rise high enough that the Pavilion cannot ignore him."
Sect Master Hei Zong sat unmoving, his hands gripping the serpent-bone throne. His eyes burned as he stared at the platform.
Elder Mo Xuan only smiled faintly, his eyes gleaming.
"Unroll the scroll," Hei Zong commanded.
⸻
The Rivals
Zhao Yunhai stood tall among the gathered disciples, his fists flexing, venom qi coiling visibly around him. His lips curled into a wolfish grin.
"Let it be me," he muttered. "I'll crush his ribs, as Kun's should have crushed his. Let them all see who truly rules the Hall."
Wei Jing adjusted her green gloves calmly, her face serene, but her eyes sharp as blades. She murmured to herself: "Let him taste silence. Let him fear the breath he draws."
Jiang Fei leaned on his spear, smirking, his handsome face gleaming with arrogance. "Whoever fights him first will soften him for me. And when I split him, no one will doubt who the Hall's spear truly belongs to."
All three stared at the scroll with hunger.
⸻
The Announcement
The elder announcer unrolled the serpent-skin scroll, his voice echoing across the courtyard.
"Next round of the Poison Fang Tournament…"
The drums thundered, the crowd hushed.
"Shen Lian… versus—"
The name rang out like a hammer striking stone.
⸻
Cliffhanger
The crowd erupted, half in cheers, half in fear. Rivals smiled or stiffened. Elders murmured sharply.
Su Rou's hand flew to her lips, her heart pounding.
And Shen Lian, standing in the shadows, opened his eyes. The lotus pulsed inside him, trembling, eager.
At last.