Wang Ba’s broadsword carved through the air like a falling guillotine.
A shrieking whirlwind of green blade-qi spiraled around the jagged steel, shredding the granite floor into a spray of sharp, whistling pebbles. The wind roared so violently that cultivators in the front rows had to shield their eyes from the grit.
Wang Ba grinned savagely. In his mind, he was already calculating his victory bonus from Sect Master Xuanji. Fifty thousand spirit stones, a private meditation chamber, and the worship of ten thousand disciples. Slicing through an orphan sweeper was easier than chopping firewood.
In the Mount Qingcheng VIP box, Sect Master Xuanji leaned over the carved railing with a bloodthirsty smile.
“Split him open, Wang Ba!” Xuanji shouted, his silver beard quivering with cruel delight. “Show these mortal upstarts what happens when trash forgets its place!”
Xiao Shi stood his ground in the center of the ring.
His small chest rose and fell in a steady, unbroken rhythm. The Supreme Shennong Marrow Pill had dissolved completely into his bloodstream, warming his tendons and steadying his heartbeat.
He didn’t run. He didn’t cower.
