Ishin watched in awe as Rhee was declared the victor. He wanted to join the crowd in applause, but with the Grand Master standing stoically beside him, Ishin resisted the urge.

  I can’t believe she managed to catch his spear.

  Even he could grasp the degree of coordination and skill required to execute such a feat. Beyond that, having the will to take such a risk—knowing that failure could mean death—was something most people lacked. Ishin wondered if he would’ve employed such a strategy in her position.

  Rhee pushed herself to her feet as two sect servants approached. A quiet exchange passed between them before she finally nodded and accepted the support of one of the servants to leave the stage.

  Dong Jing remained at the center, watching as his opponent was escorted away. Ishin was sure the Red Burning Comet School prodigy was still in disbelief over his defeat—but Rhee had bested him.

  Not through power, but technique.

  That was the truth of it. Rhee had employed a variety of techniques, none individually overwhelming, but used creatively to achieve victory.

  The best path forward is to have both.

  It sounded obvious, but when Ishin thought about his own Immortal Path so far, he realized just how difficult it was to achieve that balance. Right now, he had two powerful techniques—but both were severely limited in versatility.

  I need more techniques. Do lightning techniques with more versatility even exist?

  Perhaps that was a shortcoming he’d have to address after forming his second chakra and gaining a different qi aspect.

  “Well done, Disciple Rhee,” Grand Master Yusheng said proudly as she was escorted into their antechamber. Ishin had never heard the elderly man speak with such warmth.

  “Thank you, Grand Master,” Rhee replied, nodding while leaning heavily on the servant.

  “That was an impressive victory,” Ishin offered. “Congratulations on making it to the finals.”

  Rhee smiled weakly. Ishin could tell she was exhausted. “Thank you, Ishin. Now you’d better meet me there. Ow!” she gasped, trying to stand upright.

  “We need to bring you to the recovery bay for treatment,” the servant said. “The sect’s healers will be able to mend your wound.”

  “Bring the healer here,” Grand Master Yusheng ordered. “My granddaughter will want to watch this next fight.”

  “With all due respect, Grand Master Zhu Yusheng, we have strict instructions to bring the wounded to the recovery bay.”

  The Grand Master’s gaze turned steely. “My granddaughter needs to watch the match that will determine her opponent in the finals. I am certain, given the current lack of injured in the recovery bay, that the Righteous Mantle Sect can spare one healer to apply treatment here.”

  The servant opened his mouth to protest, but his partner arrived—a woman in her mid-twenties.

  “What’s going on here? Du Shun, why haven’t you brought the competitor to the recovery bay?”

  “The Grand Master wants a healer brought here instead,” Du Shun replied.

  “I need to stay here to watch the next match,” Rhee added. She pointed to a bench built into the arena’s outer wall. “Put me down there. I won’t move until a healer comes.”

  “I don’t know,” the senior servant murmured, frowning.

  “If any of your superiors take issue with it,” Grand Master Yusheng said, “tell them you were following my request. I’ll be responsible for any fallout.”

  Before the servant could respond, a ripple of power surged from the Grand Master, making the air feel oppressively heavy. Ishin’s muscles strained beneath the sudden pressure, and he wasn’t the only one.

  The power of a Merit Realm cultivator!

  “Grandfather,” Rhee gasped through ragged breath.

  The pressure vanished.

  “Am I understood?” Grand Master Yusheng asked.

  A sheen of sweat coated the senior servant’s brow. “Yes, Grand Master. I’ll take care of the arrangements.” She turned to Du Shun. “Set her down there and remain with her until I return with a sect healer.”

  “Understood,” Du Shun croaked. He gently helped Rhee to the stone bench. “Can I get you anything, Disciple Zhu Rhee?” he asked, still shaken.

  “I’ll be back shortly, Grand Master,” the other servant said with a bow, then hurried off.

  “Challenging youths,” Grand Master Yusheng muttered. He turned to his granddaughter. A bright orange waterskin appeared in his hand, summoned from a storage ring. “Drink this. I had Physician Hui prepare it especially for you. It should mitigate the pain for the next hour.”

  Rhee took it gratefully. “Thank you, Grandfather.”

  “You did well. Now rest.” He looked to Ishin. “I understand you’ve only recently joined our school, but you’ve proven your worth—more so than many disciples who have been with us for years.”

  Ishin bowed. “You honor me, Grand Master.”

  He must want something.

  “If you win this match, both finalists will hail from our school. No one could dispute that the Eight Oaths Resolve School is the greatest of the Martial Schools if that comes to pass.”

  Ishin kept to the expected role of a dutiful disciple. “I will endeavor to bring honor to the school.”

  Grand Master Yusheng studied him. “I know you can’t possibly feel the same loyalty my granddaughter or your other teammates do. You haven’t been with us long enough. So, instead of asking for loyalty, I offer this.”

  Ishin lifted his head. That piqued his interest.

  “If you win this match and reach the finals, I will personally grant you a favor—not as the Grand Master or the Patriarch of the Zhu Clan, but as a Merit Realm cultivator. Anything within my personal power, I will do for you.”

  That was a prize.

  Clever man, phrasing it that way.

  It meant Ishin couldn’t demand an absurd amount of cultivation resources—unless

  Yusheng could provide them himself. Still, a personal favor from a Merit Realm cultivator was immensely valuable. He could ask for training, guidance on future techniques… but one possibility dominated his thoughts.

  The Hidden Ring.

  Zhu Yusheng wasn’t just a powerful cultivator—he was also the head of a renowned school and a major clan. While Ishin doubted anyone in the Nine Striped Hills had even heard of the Hidden Ring, the Grand Master might know something. And information was something he could freely give.

  “I will make sure to win, Grand Master.”

  Nothing will stop me from obtaining vengeance.

  “Good,” the Grand Master replied, clearly pleased. He peered through the archway beyond Ishin. “It appears it’s your turn.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Elder Song’s voice rang out, magically amplified so that it carried even to their antechamber, “for the final match of the semifinals, we have Chu Winxi of the Three Blessed Petals School versus Ro Ishin of the Eight Oaths Resolve School!”

  Applause thundered through the arena—applause for him. Ishin’s soul growled in anticipation.

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  Like a hungry beast, he thought.

  “Remember to watch the leaves,” Rhee said.

  Ishin grabbed his spear from where it rested against the wall. “I will.”

  As he walked toward the stage, he heard Grand Master Yusheng call after him, “Make the school proud, Disciple Ro Ishin.”

  He would—but for his own sake, not the Grand Master’s.

  The roar of the crowd continued as Ishin stepped onto the stage and took his place near the center. Chu Winxi stood across from him, poised and graceful, exactly fifty feet away—just like every fight before.

  My best chance is to end this before she summons those leaves.

  He’d once thought her swordsmanship was the greatest threat. But after yesterday, he knew better.

  I’ll avenge you, Bo.

  “Competitors,” Elder Song called out, “prepare yourselves.”

  Ishin assumed the fourth spear stance of the Daihu Tribe. It focused purely on offense, developed by hunters who needed to fell an unsuspecting Sun Tiger with a single attack. Across from him, Chu Winxi unsheathed her sword and adopted an offensive stance of her own.

  “Begin!”

  Immediately, Ishin charged. With the superior reach of his spear and confidence in his training, he knew a direct confrontation was his best path to victory. Remarkably, Chu Winxi mirrored his aggression, sprinting straight toward him.

  They met in the center of the stage, steel clashing as the crowd roared its approval. Ishin struck first—targeting her chest, then her shoulder, then her throat—probing for an opening. Chu Winxi parried each attack, her swordsmanship so fluid it bordered on art.

  After six failed thrusts, Chu Winxi countered with a flurry of slashes. Ishin had fought sword cultivators before—he knew the limits of their reach. None of her attacks came close to harming him, and as long as he kept redirecting her blade, they wouldn’t. Her strikes weren’t meant to land, he realized—they were attempts to maneuver his spear away and expose a gap.

  He refused to let her.

  Ishin deflected her blade to the left, twisting her body slightly. Then, with a quick retraction, he thrust at her exposed left shoulder. Through their exchange, he had discovered she was left-handed. Now, her dominant arm was stretched awkwardly across her body—leaving it vulnerable.

  His spear shot forward.

  But Chu Winxi jumped left, narrowly dodging the strike. Ishin shifted the thrust into a sweeping arc, hoping to catch her midair, but she blocked it cleanly with her repositioned sword. A sharp metallic clang rang out. Their eyes met.

  She’s good, Ishin thought as they separated. That strike would have landed on most swordsmen I’ve faced.

  Chu Winxi began circling, sword poised, keeping a safe distance. Ishin matched her movement, the two tracing a slow arc atop the stage.

  Should I use my Indigo Sky Bolt?

  She was within range—but not close enough for a guaranteed hit.

  Then, he saw it—a green aura blooming around Chu Winxi’s body.

  She’s summoning her leaves!

  Sure enough, translucent green leaves scattered from her body, rising into the air.

  I have to stop her.

  Only a dozen had formed, but he knew how quickly that could escalate. Ishin pointed his fingers at her and began cycling his lightning qi. Indigo sparks crackled at his fingertips. Then he fired.

  Chu Winxi leapt aside, abandoning her technique. Her green aura faded. Good. He hadn’t expected to hit her—but it had served its purpose. The dozen leaves still floating in the air were manageable. For now.

  Gripping his spear, Ishin charged again. Chu Winxi had barely regained her footing before he was upon her. Once more, they clashed—steel on steel. Ishin pressed the advantage, his superior reach forcing her onto the defensive. Thrust after thrust rained down, driving her backward.

  We’re getting closer.

  He glanced behind her. The edge of the arena was near. If he could push her just a bit more—

  In the rhythm of attack and defense, Chu Winxi glanced sideways. She parried his latest thrust, buying a brief moment of reprieve. Then, she lunged, thrusting her sword forward with one arm to close the gap. Ishin spun his spear horizontally to intercept, wielding it like a staff. Their weapons locked—her blade against his shaft—neither gaining ground.

  They both cycled qi into their limbs, straining against one another in a test of strength. But Ishin noticed her off-hand curl.

  He recognized the gesture.

  With a grunt, he pressed down harder, using his greater weight to shove her back. Then he dodged to the right.

  A sharp pain grazed his back—just enough to draw blood. He turned in time to see a dozen conjured leaves streak past the spot he’d just occupied.

  That was too close.

  Chu Winxi swept her free hand through the air. The leaves responded, hovering twenty feet away like hovering blades. She slashed downward—and the leaves descended.

  Ishin knew he couldn’t block them all.

  Instead, he ran.

  Leaves slammed into the ground behind him as he closed the distance. Chu Winxi advanced, sword raised, and slashed. Ishin parried and brought up the butt of his spear to strike her face. She turned her head just in time, then retaliated with another slash, now well within his guard.

  Ishin pivoted, but too late. A clean horizontal cut slashed across his upper chest, parting his robes and leaving a shallow line of blood. The sting bit deep, but the wound wasn’t serious. He stumbled back, creating space before she could press further.

  Too close.

  Behind him, he heard the rustling of leaves. Chu Winxi extended her arm forward.

  Ishin pointed at her again as a familiar growl rumbled from deep within his soul.

  My beast agrees.

  Another indigo bolt tore through the air, forcing Chu Winxi to dodge and lose control of her leaves again. Ishin followed with a second bolt, surprising her, though she still managed to sidestep.

  I’m too far away.

  Thirty feet separated them. He needed to close that gap—but just then, his right arm trembled uncontrollably. A side effect of firing Indigo Sky Bolt twice in quick succession.

  I can still press through.

  Chu Winxi shot her arm upward, the leaves spiraling into a vortex above her.

  She’s preparing another assault. How does she have the qi for this?

  Crouched low, she leveled her sword at him. The swirling leaves converged, rotating rapidly around her blade.

  Whatever was coming next—it would be worse than anything before.

  His soul roared in defiance.

  Ishin remembered what Rhee had said the night before about the Pale Azure Lightning Force Strike.

  If I use that and she dies, there will be hell to pay. And if I miss, I’ll have nothing left.

  Even so, his soul urged him forward. This was his path.

  I… want to win!

  He extended his right arm and, for the first time in weeks, cycled lightning qi through all thirteen meridians. The strain was immediate. His muscles went numb, his arm trembled—but he pushed through, keeping his aim true.

  A spark of pure azure lightning with a white-hot center formed in his palm.

  Across from him, Chu Winxi continued her technique. The bladed leaves spun faster and faster around her sword.

  More! Ishin urged himself. I can give it more!

  The bolt grew, swelling to the size of his palm. With a roar, he unleashed the Pale Azure Lightning Force Strike just as Chu Winxi launched her whirlwind of bladed leaves.

  The two techniques collided midair.

  The azure lightning tore through the leaves like a blade through silk. A third of the conjured leaves veered around his technique, slicing into Ishin’s forehead and shoulder. He winced as shallow cuts split flesh—but he held firm.

  Then came the scream.

  A terrible, wrenching scream that echoed across the Golden Arena.

  Ishin stood, breath ragged, as he saw the result.

  He’d aimed for a non-lethal area. To a degree, he had succeeded.

  Chu Winxi lay hunched on the ground, a ruined, sobbing mess. Her right arm had been severed at the shoulder—both the limb and joint scorched black.

  The bestial growl from deep within him faded, and Ishin simply stared at the carnage he had wrought. Chu Winxi remained hunched over, sobbing as she clutched the place where her arm had once been. Her sword lay discarded on the stage beside her.

  A part of Ishin felt bad.

  But he suppressed the guilt.

  The match isn’t over yet.

  Spear in hand, Ishin walked toward his mentally shattered opponent. When he stopped in front of her, Chu Winxi looked up with tear-streaked fury, hatred burning in her gaze.

  “You monster!” she spat.

  Ishin leveled his spear at the helpless cultivator. “Yield.” It wasn’t a question.

  “My arm,” she snarled. “You took my arm!”

  Still pushing aside any trace of remorse, Ishin channeled the beast within his soul for strength. A growl echoed through him—silent to others, but thunderous in his core—giving him the resolve he needed. He shifted his stance and brought the tip of his spear just an inch from Chu Winxi’s brow.

  “Yield.”

  Chu Winxi trembled, helpless and in shock. Her voice cracked as she whispered, “I surrender.”

  As if no horror had just unfolded, Elder Song’s voice rang out in her usual theatrical tone, “The winner is—Ro Ishin of the Eight Oaths Resolve School!”

  The Golden Arena exploded in sound. Roars of adulation thundered from the tens of thousands in attendance.

  Ishin blinked, stunned by the sheer force of it.

  Chu Winxi sat ruined before him.

  He said nothing.

  He simply lowered his spear and turned away, walking off the stage.

  He didn’t feel sorry.

  This was the price every cultivator risked by choosing a martial path along the Immortal Road. Carnage and struggle—those were the steps that led to the Heavens.

  More important than guilt was the fact that Grand Master Yusheng now owed him a favor. Answers were finally within reach. And tomorrow, he would face Rhee in the finals.

  The future mattered.

  Not regrets from the past.