The figure crossed the arena floor without any of the spatial transitions Lin Yi had grown used to. No Heaven Step equivalent, no Buddha Step-style instant relocation. Just walking, deliberate and unhurried, the contest's Law apparently valuing the honest closing of distance as much as it valued the honest comparison that would follow.
Lin Yi let him close it.
He used the time to read what the Observer could give him. The figure's Law of contest was unfamiliar in its specifics but the organizing principle was clear enough: every engagement under this Law was structured to be revealing rather than concealing, the contest itself designed to strip away anything that wasn't genuine depth. A cultivator could not bluff here. Whatever was real would be the only thing that mattered.
That suited him.
He had nothing to hide and nothing performed. What he carried was what the gates had confirmed and the chamber had deepened.
