The arena fell into a strange silence.
Dust drifted slowly across the cracked battlefield, caught in the faint currents of wind that still lingered from Chen's earlier assault. The ground beneath both fighters bore the marks of their clash, fractures spreading outward like scars that refused to heal. Every eye in the stadium remained fixed on the two figures standing at its center.
Lin Yi.
Chen Feng.
Neither moved.
But the pressure between them was suffocating.
Chen exhaled slowly, his grip tightening around his blade as the storm around him began to change. The violent, scattered currents from before no longer lashed outward wildly. Instead, they began to draw inward, compressing, condensing, gathering closer and closer to his body.
The air sharpened.
Even the sound of the wind shifted, turning from a chaotic roar into a low, controlled hum.
"…You're strong," Chen said at last, his voice steady but heavier than before. "Stronger than anyone I've faced."
