"Shameless old ape!" Niu Gao cursed aloud as Titan bellowed, Martial Soul True Body towering, eighth ability bearing down on a mere twelve-year-old.
On the platform, Lucien's sword bucked against the pressure. The black flames along the blade surged backward into his veins, his drunk eyes clouding darker and darker… until black fully replaced their whites.
In the blink of an eye, his body ignited. Black fire wreathed him from head to toe, the granite beneath his feet cracking like thin ice.
The audience gasped.
"What… what is happening to him?!"
"He's—changing!"
Bai He's heart hammered, Niu Gao's fists twitched. Even Titan himself faltered. This was no ordinary opponent.
With metallic shrieks, Lucien's flames climbed higher, distorting the air.
"Meow—!"
Zhu Zhuqing's claws flashed as she made to dash forward, Martial Soul released.
"Stop, girl!" Bai He's figure blurred, seizing her by the arm. "You'll only die in the crossfire!"
"Let go! He needs me!" she hissed, eyes blazing.
Bai He held firm. "This isn't him. Not now."
On the stage, Titan stomped again, trying to reclaim momentum. But the tremors only fed into Lucien's furious aura—like a furnace roaring hotter the more it was pressed.
The air itself crackled—until—
BOOOOM!
A new spear lanced down like thunder, black-metal shaft splitting the air as it rammed between Titan and Lucien, rupturing the pressure. Both were forced back, stumbling several paces.
An old figure strode from the stands—tall, cold-eyed, his black spear gleaming like a cold star.
Yang Wudi. Patriarch of the Breaking Clan.
"Enough!"
Even Titan eased his fists. He knew—Wudi never intervened lightly.
Yang Wudi's face was grim. "Old monkey, if I hadn't stepped in, you'd be mulch by now."
Lucien stood heaving, black fire writhing, sword humming violently like it thirsted for blood. He looked less man than beast, each breath radiating abyssal rage.
"Don't touch him!" Yang Wudi barked as Zhu Zhuqing rushed past. He flicked open a vial, producing a crimson pellet, crushing it until mist hissed outward.
The mist curled into Lucien's nose.
A heartbeat later—
Shudder.
Lucien straightened, eyes fluttering hazily—then cleared. The black flames sputtered smaller, returning to faint flickers. He blinked sluggishly, scratching his cheek.
"Eh? Me? What's wrong? Another drink?"
The platform exhaled together. Even Titan wiped sweat, his face pale. He knew—just now, he had touched real terror.
Only Yang Wudi's medicine stopped it.
Later that night.
Drinking had turned enemies into old brothers again. Titan slapped Wudi's shoulder in gratitude, trying to laugh off his shame. "Forget the grudge, eh? Let's drink."
Lucien eagerly agreed. Wine flooded the night, until all collapsed into sleep.
But in Yang Wudi's chambers, the mood was darker.
"Old White Bird," he murmured, grabbing Bai He's sleeve, eyes grave. "Tell me true. What is going on between your granddaughter… and that boy?"
Bai He hesitated… then chuckled faintly. "Xiangxiang likes him. And he doesn't seem to dislike her. If this works, the Min Clan finally sees a dawn again."
"You fool!" Yang Wudi snapped. "Do you know what we faced today? That sword—it isn't a weapon. It's a curse."
He leaned forward, voice heavy.
"I've studied medicine, curses, forging records. When swordsmiths made evil blades, they fed them with lives, souls, blood. That black energy—you saw it flooding him. It isn't his power. It is the sword's power… using him as its host."
Bai He paled, but shook his head. "They're just your guesses."
Yang Wudi slammed the table. "I'm telling you, he cannot control that sword. It is controlling him! You want to hand your granddaughter to that pit? You're gambling the Min Clan's future!"
Bai He's jaw tightened. "Call it gambling, then. But Lucien saved us. My Min Clan lives because of him. Gratitude binds us—and Xiangxiang chooses him. I won't forbid it."
Wudi threw up his hands, growling.
"Then at least take more of my Refreshing Pills. If that thing consumes him one day… you'll need everything you can get."
Bai He accepted them silently. For all his old poverty habits, tonight he took every ounce Wudi offered. His eyes hardened.
Sword or curse, even demon or god… if Xiangxiang chooses him, if he saved us, I will stand by him.
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