The strategic planning in Lǐ Róng's chamber had concluded, but the air remained thick with unspoken tension. Jian Zhi, ever the pragmatist, saw an opportunity to turn theory into practice.

  [Jian Zhi]: "Duke Lǐ Róng, a sparring match between us would be… instructive."

  [Lǐ Róng]: "A fine idea. But you are aware of my capabilities, are you not? Do not be discouraged when you witness them."

  A flicker of curiosity passed through Jian Zhi's eyes. He then turned his attention to another, equally critical matchup.

  [Jian Zhi]: "Ms. Lán, your aerial mobility is legendary. It makes you the fastest in your clan, does it not?"

  [Xuè Lán]: "It does. What of it? Do you wish to test your mettle against my speed?"

  [Jian Zhi]: "Not I. That honor will go to our kingdom's Celestial Interceptor (天御 - Tiān Yù)." He gestured towards Lian. "Her Qilin's Grace (麒麟步 - Qílín Bù) will be measured against your flight. Are you prepared, Lian?"

  Lian's voice was a nervous tremor. "O-Okay… Your Majesty."

  Before the spars began, Jian Zhi approached Mei Lin, handing her a quiver of ammunition that shimmered with an otherworldly lustre. "Use these. Dragon-scale coated projectiles. They will find their mark against the Xuè Clan when fired from The Devil’s Whisper (魔语弓 - Mó Yǔ Gōng)."

  As Mei Lin nodded, fitting one of the sinister-looking projectiles to her The Devil's Whisper, the weapon itself seemed to hum with a low, predatory keen. The sound made Xuè Lán flinch.

  [Xuè Lán]: "You! What manner of witchcraft is that thing? How did you come by such a thing?"

  [Jian Zhi]: "I forged it."

  His calm, simple reply left her speechless. She muttered to herself, 'Who is he? Have I misjudged him? No… I can always fly away. I am safe.' But her confidence wavered further as she witnessed the terrifying range and power of the Divine Rain artillery and the unnerving Devil's Whisper. 'No,' she thought, a cold dread settling in, 'perhaps not.'

  To test Lian's limits, Jian Zhi set a simple, brutal task. "Mei Lin will fire a projectile. Your task, Lian, is to intercept it before it strikes the target. You must move faster than our own ammunition."

  At his signal, Mei Lin fired the shot. Lian became a blur of motion, her body vanishing to leave only a jade-and-silver afterimage in her wake. She reappeared, shield raised, a full ten paces ahead of the projectile, stopping it cold. The soldiers erupted in cheers. Lǐ Róng offered a soft, approving smile, while Xuè Lán, now fully aware of the challenge, began her preparations.

  Lian took a deep breath, strapping on her Skull-Crusher knuckles. "For Jian Zhi," she whispered to herself. "Let's do this, Qilin."

  [Xuè Lán]: "My apologies in advance, little beauty."

  In the blink of an eye, Xuè Lán was airborne, a streak of motion almost too fast to follow.

  [Soldier 1]: "Gods, did you see that? I barely caught a glimpse! Can Lian handle this?"

  [Soldier 2]: "If she couldn't, she wouldn't be standing there. Let's hope she doesn't get hurt."

  Lian met the first flurry of attacks, her arms moving in a frantic but effective defence, blocking kicks and punches aimed at her vitals.

  [Xuè Lán]: "Impressive! You actually stopped that. Not bad."

  Lian smiled through gritted teeth, her breath already coming in ragged gasps. "That was… some move… Lady Lán. But I can't lose. I made a promise."

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  [Xuè Lán]: "Did that boy force a death pledge on you? Tch."

  Lian launched her first punch, a swift strike that Xuè Lán evaded by a hair's breadth. "Good speed, but not good enough!" Xuè Lán retorted, launching a diving kick.

  The fight became a breathtaking display of velocity. Lian held her own through sheer speed, but Xuè Lán's centuries of experience were a chasm she could not cross. She was purely on the defensive, blocking and weaving, her movements becoming a fraction slower with each passing second.

  Then, she blinked.

  It was all the opening Xuè Lán needed. A powerful kick, infused with Hún Guāng, slammed into Lian's abdomen. The impact was sickeningly loud—a sharp crack of stressed armor and driven breath. Lian was hurled backwards like a discarded doll, her body crashing into a thick tree trunk with a brutal thud before slumping to the ground.

  She curled around herself, coughing up a spray of crimson blood that splattered the grass. A deep, throbbing agony radiated from her ribs. But worse than the physical pain was the crushing weight of failure, the shame of not landing a single blow. She could not meet anyone's eyes.

  Then, a pair of boots entered her downcast vision. She looked up to see Jian Zhi, his expression unreadable.

  [Jian Zhi]: "You did well, Lian. I did not expect you to win. I expected you to survive, and you did more than that. You pushed her." A rare, warm smile touched his lips. "Now, go to the infirmary."

  His words were a balm. As she was helped away, Jian Zhi turned to Xuè Lán.

  [Jian Zhi]: "Your prowess is undeniable, Lady Lán."

  She smirked, pride evident in her posture. [Jian Zhi]: "It's time for us to spar, Duke Lǐ Róng."

  The two rulers took their stances. Jian Zhi initiated with a Ghost Step, followed by a piston-straight punch aimed at Lǐ Róng's shoulder. But at the last possible moment, Lǐ Róng flowed aside, the strike passing harmlessly through empty air.

  'How?' Jian Zhi's mind raced. 'His ability is Soul-Sight, not foresight… unless…' To test his theory, he repeated the same combination. Again, Lǐ Róng slipped away with infuriating grace.

  [Xuè Lán]: "You underestimated my Róng, you arrogant brat!"

  The truth was confirmed. Lǐ Róng could see seconds into the future. Jian Zhi unleashed his entire arsenal—every combo, every feint he had ever devised. None connected. Lǐ Róng was a ghost, always one step ahead. In a counterattack, Lǐ Róng infused his fist with Hún Guāng and drove it into Jian Zhi's guarding arm. The force was immense, but to Lǐ Róng's astonishment, Jian Zhi's arm held firm, the Hún Guāng dissipating against it without leaving a mark.

  They were in a perfect stalemate: the man who could not be hit, and the man who could not be harmed.

  Jian Zhi's mind worked furiously. He needed an attack that could change after Lǐ Róng had already foreseen it. He launched a low kick with his right leg. As predicted, Lǐ Róng shifted his weight to evade. But in that exact moment, Jian Zhi twisted his hip, converting the low kick into a devastating side kick, channelling all his power into the new trajectory.

  The kick connected with Lǐ Róng's chest. A dull, bone-jarring thud echoed as the Duke was lifted off his feet and sent flying backwards, skidding across the ground in a cloud of dust.

  [Lǐ Róng]: "[Coughing, clutching his chest] You… you broke the pattern. And you uncovered my secret. Nothing less from a man like you. [A pained, respectful smile]"

  Seeing Lǐ Róng injured shattered Xuè Lán's composure, her face paling with fear.

  And then, something within Jian Zhi awakened. His Fire Soul surged forth, merging with him. An immense, palpable heat began to radiate from his body. When he used Ghost Step now, he left searing trails of fire on the ground. He was a blazing comet, his speed and ferocity overwriting Lǐ Róng's foresight through sheer, overwhelming pressure. Blow after blow landed—a crack to the ribs, a jarring impact to the jaw. Lǐ Róng's vision blurred, his body nearing its absolute limit.

  "ENOUGH!" Xuè Lán screamed, a blur of motion as she shot into the sky, her hand closing around Jian Zhi's throat to strangle him mid-air. "YOU DARE HURT HIM FURTHER, YOU BRAT?!"

  Jian Zhi's eyes snapped to hers, all humanity gone, replaced by a cold, devilish gaze. He didn't struggle for breath. Instead, his hands shot up and clamped onto her shoulders like vice grips. With a terrifying, raw display of power, he unlocked a latent ability in the face of death itself—flight. He lifted her effortlessly, her stranglehold broken, and with a roar of primal fury, he hurled her back toward the earth.

  She hit the ground with a catastrophic impact that cratered the soil, the air forced from her lungs in a bloody gasp. She lay there, broken and wheezing, unable to move.

  Jian Zhi descended, landing softly on his feet as if the laws of physics were his to command. The air crackled with his power. He looked down at the defeated forms of Lǐ Róng and Xuè Lán, his voice cutting through the stunned silence.

  [Jian Zhi]: "Now, tell me. Am I worthy of leading this capital?"

  His display left every onlooker paralyzed, a single, terrifying question echoing in all their minds: Was this fearsome power their salvation, or were they witnessing the birth of a new, unstoppable devil? What were his true intentions, and what other terrifying abilities lay dormant within him?