The gathering grounds of the Black Dragon faction lay open beneath a pale sky, the wide stone floor etched with scars from countless clashes. Faint lines of cracked rock and shallow craters stretched across the arena like old memories that refused to fade. A thin breeze drifted through the space, stirring dust and carrying with it the lingering hum of Qi—subtle, but unmistakably alive.
Lu Mao stood among the few spectators, his posture relaxed but his attention razor-sharp. His gaze never left the center of the grounds.
This wasn't just another spar.
It was a measure.
Of strength. Of control. Of who truly understood their path.
Ahead of him, Li Xian stepped forward slightly. Her silver hair shifted gently with the wind, her expression calm, distant—yet her presence alone seemed to quiet the space.
"Both of you. Center."
She didn't raise her voice.
She didn't need to.
From one side, Bao Fu waddled forward, his usual loose, almost careless gait completely at odds with the tension in the air. His round figure bounced slightly with each step, his expression easy, almost amused—as if he hadn't just witnessed the overwhelming display of power from his opponent moments earlier.
Lu Mao narrowed his eyes slightly.
He's not acting.
Bao Fu truly wasn't intimidated.
And that alone made him dangerous.
From the opposite side, Yan Mei approached.
Her steps were measured, steady, almost rhythmic. There was a quiet confidence in the way she moved—no wasted motion, no hesitation. Her hand drifted naturally toward the coiled whip at her side as she walked, her gaze fixed forward.
Unwavering.
If Bao Fu looked relaxed, Yan Mei looked inevitable.
They reached the center and stopped.
For a moment, the world held its breath.
Then—
Crack.
The sound split the air like thunder.
Yan Mei's whip lashed forward in a single, clean motion, the strike releasing a shockwave that rippled outward across the stone floor. Dust lifted in a sudden burst, and even from a distance, Lu Mao felt the pressure hit him. His robes fluttered sharply, hair pushed back by the force.
Beside him, Marco let out a low whistle. "That's not a warm-up."
Chen Yuan smirked faintly. "She doesn't do those."
Lu Mao didn't respond.
Because his attention had shifted.
Bao Fu hadn't moved.
More importantly—
He wasn't holding his usual glowing orb.
Instead, a bundle of talismans rested in his hand. Thin paper strips, layered together, faint inscriptions etched across their surfaces.
Lu Mao's gaze sharpened.
Something new.
Something planned.
Chen Yuan spoke quietly, almost lazily, though his eyes were focused. "Don't underestimate him. I've known that idiot since we were kids. He plays around… but he's not simple."
Bao Fu shot him an annoyed glance without turning his head. "I heard that."
Chen Yuan shrugged. "Good."
Lu Mao exhaled softly.
He had already realized it.
Bao Fu wasn't careless.
He was unpredictable.
Li Xian raised her hand.
"Begin."
Yan Mei moved first.
Her whip lashed forward again, this time infused with Qi. The strike extended beyond its physical length, a crimson arc tearing through the air with enough force to shatter stone.
Bao Fu flicked a talisman forward.
It ignited instantly.
A barrier formed in front of him—layered, curved, and translucent, like interlocking hexagonal glass. The whip struck it head-on.
The barrier shattered.
But Bao Fu was already moving.
The talismans in his other hand spread across his palm, forming a circular pattern. With a sharp forward motion, he released them.
They shot outward.
Not randomly.
Placed.
Each talisman embedded itself into the ground at precise intervals, glowing faintly as they settled into position. Within a breath, the battlefield had changed.
Lu Mao's eyes narrowed.
"…Traps."
Marco frowned. "All of them?"
Chen Yuan didn't hesitate. "Every single one."
Lu Mao leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharpening further.
Then he saw it.
A faint shimmer in the sunlight.
Threads.
Thin. Nearly invisible. Stretching from Bao Fu's fingers to each talisman embedded across the field.
Marco blinked. "A wire?"
Lu Mao murmured, "Not just a wire… control."
Yan Mei had already understood.
Her gaze swept the ground once.
She didn't step forward.
Instead, her whip struck downward.
The Qi extension surged outward, detonating the nearest talismans before they could be triggered. Explosions burst in quick succession—ice spikes tearing upward, arcs of lightning snapping through the air, binding nets forming and collapsing in an instant.
She wasn't attacking him.
She was clearing space.
Bao Fu grinned.
"Smart!"
From his sleeve, an orb dropped neatly into his hand.
He threw it.
The motion looked casual.
The speed was not.
The orb cut through the air like a bullet, spinning as it closed the distance. Yan Mei's eyes sharpened, but she didn't retreat.
Her aura surged.
Her whip expanded outward, splitting into multiple Qi extensions. The orb was struck mid-air—
Crushed.
It exploded at a safe distance.
But Bao Fu didn't stop.
Another orb.
Then another.
A barrage.
Lu Mao's gaze tightened.
He's not giving her time to stabilize.
Yan Mei moved with precision. Her whip spread around her like the limbs of a spider, each strike intercepting incoming orbs while simultaneously destroying nearby talismans.
The battlefield erupted.
Fire. Lightning. Frost. Binding seals.
Different effects layered over one another as talismans triggered under her attacks. Smoke rose. The air crackled. The ground trembled under repeated impacts.
Yet—
Yan Mei stood at the center.
Untouched.
But Lu Mao could see it clearly.
Her breathing had changed.
Slightly heavier.
She's using too much Qi.
Bao Fu, on the other hand, remained at range, throwing orbs in steady rhythm. His movements were light, efficient.
He wasn't spending much.
He had prepared everything beforehand.
Yan Mei realized it too.
She couldn't keep this pace.
Not like this.
So she changed.
Her next strike wasn't wide.
It was focused.
The whip lashed forward in a straight line, Qi condensing along its path. The crimson aura pierced through multiple talismans in sequence, clearing a direct path across the field.
Then—
She moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
Bao Fu's eyes widened. "Hey—!"
He reacted instantly, his round body moving with surprising speed as he stepped across the field—over talismans that didn't activate.
Lu Mao's eyes narrowed further.
He's choosing which ones trigger.
Before Yan Mei reached him, a talisman flared.
Smoke exploded outward.
Vision vanished.
By the time her attack cut through the haze—
Bao Fu was gone.
He reappeared several meters away, already repositioned.
They faced each other again.
For a moment, neither moved.
Bao Fu wiped sweat from his forehead, forcing a grin. "You're really tough to get."
Yan Mei's expression remained calm. "You steal my words."
Lu Mao exhaled slowly.
The balance had shifted.
Bao Fu had endurance.
Yan Mei had pressure.
Which meant—
She needed to end this quickly.
Or she would lose.
Yan Mei tightened her grip on her whip. Faint crimson sparks flickered along its length, crackling briefly before fading.
Bao Fu raised both hands.
Two orbs in each.
Their inscriptions glowed faintly.
Different.
Lu Mao's gaze sharpened.
Something's changed.
Bao Fu had learned.
He understood her reach now.
The earlier trap field hadn't just been offense.
It had been observation.
Then—
They moved.
Yan Mei's whip lashed forward faster than before, Qi surging violently along its length, forming a serpent-like arc that tore through the air.
Bao Fu threw the orbs.
Four of them.
They shot forward at tremendous speed.
Yan Mei's attack met them—
And passed through empty air.
The orbs shifted.
Mid-flight.
Their trajectories curved unnaturally, bending around her attack.
Lu Mao's pupils contracted.
Threads.
They're still connected.
Yan Mei realized it in the same instant.
But the distance was too short.
Too fast.
The orbs were already closing in.
For a fraction of a moment—
She had no direct counter.
Bao Fu grinned. "Got—!"
Yan Mei moved.
Her aura flared violently.
Without retracting her whip, she twisted her wrist sharply. The extended Qi reacted instantly, destabilizing.
Then—
A shockwave burst outward.
Raw force.
Unrefined.
It struck the incoming orbs mid-air, disrupting their trajectories. They veered off-course—
And exploded at a distance.
The ground shook.
Bao Fu jumped back, but he was too late.
The delayed extension of Yan Mei's whip still reached him.
It struck his raised arm.
A sharp impact.
He was thrown backward, sliding across the stone as the shockwave carried through his body.
Yan Mei slid back as well, pushed by the explosion's force—
But remained standing.
Unharmed.
Silence fell.
Then—
"…Ahh, man."
Bao Fu lay flat on his back, staring up at the sky. "Next time… I'm wrapping the wire around my arm."
Chen Yuan snorted. "Even after all that, you still lost."
Bao Fu shot up halfway. "I almost had her!"
Marco laughed. "Almost doesn't count."
Bao Fu pointed at him accusingly. "You try fighting her!"
The bickering began.
Loud. Familiar. Alive.
Lu Mao didn't join.
His gaze remained on Yan Mei.
She stood there, breathing slightly heavier, sweat visible along her brow—but her expression calm.
Controlled.
Satisfied.
Li Xian stepped forward.
"Winner. Yan Mei."
Yan Mei raised her hand slightly in acknowledgment.
No celebration.
Just confirmation.
Lu Mao exhaled slowly.
Bao Fu… is dangerous.
But Yan Mei—
Is on another level.
His fingers curled slightly at his side.
Because this wasn't over.
Chen Yuan stepped forward next, a faint smile on his lips.
And after that—
It would be his turn.
This time—
He wouldn't just watch.