Silence held the plaza for three full heartbeats.
Then the noise came back in a wave of gasps, shouts, the rustle of a thousand robes as disciples leaned forward.
Lin Tian stood with his sword point down, his breath a ragged scrape in his throat. Every muscle trembled from the backlash of the Vaporizing Strike. His dantian felt like a hollow gourd, scraped clean.
Across from him, Mu Chen stared at the hole in his vanished armor. He touched his chest, his fingers coming away dry.
The strike had been so precise it erased only the spiritual construct, leaving his physical body untouched. That was the true insult. It wasn't a wound. It was a demonstration of absolute control.
"You…" Mu Chen's voice was a broken thing. The translucent jade sheen was gone from his skin, leaving it pale and clammy. His seventh-level Core Spirit Realm aura, once a crushing pressure, now flickered like a guttering candle. "You dare…"
