Chapter: Finals and Fire
The sun hung high over the sect's arena, casting a warm glow over the stone platform where the ultimate battle of the tournament would unfold. The stands buzzed with anticipation, every disciple and elder eager to witness the clash that would determine the sect's champion.
The path to the finals had been brutal. Many favorites had fallen, some to unexpected opponents, others to the sheer exhaustion of back-to-back battles. The crowd still murmured about the shocking defeat of Yu Feng, a spear prodigy known for his storm-like offense, who had been narrowly bested by today's other finalist—Bai Liang. Bai Liang's style was calm, calculating, and merciless in its efficiency. He had cut through opponents with his saber like a tide wearing down stone, defeating even the ferocious Lu Cheng, whose fire techniques had dominated the early rounds.
Lin Xuan's journey had been no less grueling. From his first bout, he had dispatched challengers with the precision of a master hunter. The earlier rounds had seen him dismantle agile sword cultivators and overpower brute-force brawlers. Even against elite opponents such as Qin Yue, whose whip techniques once dazzled the entire arena, Lin Xuan's spear had found its mark, ending each battle with clean, decisive strikes.
Now, only Bai Liang remained.
The gong sounded. Lin Xuan stepped forward, his black spear gleaming in the sun, the shaft steady in his grip. Bai Liang mirrored him, saber angled low, eyes sharp as a drawn blade.
The first exchange came in a blur. Lin Xuan's spear lunged like a striking viper, forcing Bai Liang to pivot aside, saber flashing upward to deflect. Sparks leapt from the clash, the sound echoing like hammer on anvil.
The two fighters circled, probing, each strike testing the other's limits. Lin's spear swept wide, forcing Bai Liang back, but the saber-wielder answered with a sudden surge, stepping inside the spear's range to deliver a vicious cut. Lin twisted his body, letting the blade pass close enough to stir his robes, before countering with a thrust that nearly grazed Bai Liang's shoulder.
High above the arena, the sect leader leaned forward slightly in his seat, his normally unreadable gaze narrowing in interest. "That spear form… not bad," he murmured.
Beside him, Elder Danfeng inclined his head. "He's my personal disciple."
The sect leader turned to look at him fully, one brow arching. "An alchemy elder producing a warrior like this? That's… unexpected."
Danfeng only smiled faintly, eyes still on the fight.
On the far side of the arena, Elder Qiu rose from his seat, muttering something about attending to a sect matter. He slipped away quietly, vanishing into the shadows beyond the stands.
Moments later, deep in a secluded corridor, Qiu produced an ornate hand mirror from his sleeve. Holding it up to the light, he traced a subtle pattern on its surface with his finger. The polished glass shimmered, reflecting not his own face but a shadowed silhouette. Without a word, Qiu tilted the mirror toward the sky.
Far overhead, a lone bird wheeled in the blue, its wings catching the sunlight.
The signal had been sent.
Back in the arena, Lin Xuan and Bai Liang clashed again, their weapons singing in a relentless rhythm. The crowd roared as Lin's spear knocked Bai Liang's saber high, only for the saber to come sweeping down in a dangerous counter.
Then, without warning—
BOOM!
A thunderous explosion tore through the sect's outer walls. The ground trembled. Cries of shock erupted from the stands as black smoke curled into the sky.
The tournament platform shook underfoot, and for the first time, both Lin Xuan and Bai Liang broke their focus from each other.
The demonic sect had arrived.