Pao Pao furrowed his brows, piecing together the information like fragments of a broken blade. So the rumors were true—Kazel's illness wasn't some unfortunate twist of fate. The Rising Stone Sect had something to do with it. And this whole ordeal, this Scale Dalgona, wasn't just some tournament. It was something far more personal for Noel and the Immortal Sect.
Wurong, standing with his arms crossed, processed the revelation with a slow exhale. It was a surprise, but not an unprecedented one. Sect warfare takes many forms. Poison, assassination, sabotage—just different tactics of the same game. The Jade Basin Sect wouldn't interfere. This was not their fight.
Nobu's stance mirrored Wurong's. He, too, had seen enough of these political plays to know when to stay his hand. Let them handle their grievances on their own.
Meanwhile, Bai Rong of the Blossom Sect leisurely sipped his tea, his posture as relaxed as if he were enjoying an afternoon play. Drama unfolded below, and as far as he was concerned, being a spectator was the most profitable position. He had no stake in this mess, nor did he want one.
Matriarch Yue Ling of the Silent Moon Sect watched with quiet amusement, her expression unreadable. She was as neutral as the night itself, content to let the tides of conflict shift where they may.
Huo Qing, matriarch of the Serpent River Sect, narrowed her eyes, gaze locked onto Noel. (I can see it… the fuming rage, the killing intent behind his eyes. He is not simply angered—he is out for blood.)
Toghon of the Ironhide Sect rubbed his chin in contemplation. To interfere was to take a risk. And if there was no reward, then it was foolishness. However… the way this game was shaping up, the players above the board were clear—the Immortal Sect against the Rising Stone Sect and the Jade Lotus Sect.
Jin Shui twirled his staff, the polished wood humming through the air as he took a relaxed stance. His gaze landed on Salma, but the smirk on his face was aimed beyond her—toward the one sitting comfortably atop a corpse in the winner's spot.
"So, Salma…" Jin Shui began, his tone light but laced with amusement. "How does it feel, knowing that if you win this match, and the next, you might have to face him?"
His chin jerked toward Kazel, who was lounging without a care in the world. His sword rested lazily on his shoulder, his other arm propping up his head. His blue eyes, full of mirth, barely acknowledged the match about to unfold.
Salma's black eyes flickered, but her expression remained cold.
"Focus on your opponent," she said curtly, shifting into her stance.
Jin Shui chuckled, tapping the end of his staff against his shoulder. "Oh? But how can I, when there's something far more entertaining waiting in the finals?" He leaned forward slightly, his grin widening. "I bet he's waiting for you, Salma. Maybe even hoping you make it through. Imagine the reunion… tragic, isn't it?"
Salma's fingers twitched.
"Oh, but don't take it personally," Jin Shui continued, pacing in a circle around her, his staff spinning idly in his hand. "It's not like I'm the only one who noticed. The whole coliseum's wondering the same thing. Will she win? Will she lose? Or…" He suddenly stopped and leaned forward with a smirk. "Will she throw the match to avoid facing her dear, former fiancé?"
The crowd stirred at the words, murmurs rippling through the audience.
Salma's expression was unreadable, but a frigid mist had begun to swirl at her feet.
Jin Shui grinned. He could see the irritation creeping into her posture. Just a little more.
"Well, I guess it doesn't matter," he mused, shrugging. "Either way, he's already waiting in the next round. And between you and me…" He gave a dramatic pause, then whispered loud enough for the audience to hear, "He doesn't look worried at all."
Salma inhaled slowly. The cold mist thickened.
"I don't waste my time thinking about useless things," she finally said, voice sharp as ice.
Jin Shui raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So, Kazel is useless to you now?"
Salma's pupils shrank.
"Fight!" the announcer's voice boomed across the coliseum.
Jin Shui barely had a second to react before a gust of freezing wind exploded in his direction.
Salma had moved like a ghost, her Snow Fox manifestation flashing behind her in a flicker of white mist. The ground beneath her frosted over instantly as she closed the distance between them in a single, graceful leap. Her hand slashed forward—razor-thin ice blades forming at her fingertips—aiming straight for his throat.
Jin Shui twisted his staff at the last second, intercepting the strike with a sharp crack! The impact sent a shockwave through the air, splinters of ice scattering in all directions.
"She's fast!" someone in the audience gasped.
Jin Shui grinned as he slid backward from the force. "Now we're talking."
But Salma wasn't done. The second her first strike was blocked, she spun mid-air, using the momentum to send a bladed kick toward his ribs. Jin Shui barely had time to duck, her foot grazing past his shoulder, leaving behind a trail of frostbite.
(Shit, that was close,) Jin Shui thought, rolling away just as another burst of icy wind came for him.
The crowd roared at the exchange, but amidst the cheers, one voice rang louder than the others—smooth, confident, and dripping with condescension.
"Oh? So, you do know how to fight, Salma."
Salma and Jin Shui both heard it.
They both knew who it came from.
Kazel sat with his chin resting on his palm, watching with lazy amusement. "For a moment there, I thought you'd just surrender after hearing my name."
Salma didn't look at him, but the frost around her feet grew sharper, more jagged.
Jin Shui barked out a laugh. "Hah! He's got a point. I thought you'd be distracted. Guess I'll have to put a little more effort in—"
Salma vanished.
Jin Shui's pupils shrank.
She reappeared right in front of him, her Snow Fox's ethereal figure surging behind her. Her hand was a blur as she conjured a wall of ice and smashed it forward, aiming to encase him completely.
But Jin Shui reacted instantly, flipping his staff with a snap of his wrist. A shockwave of golden energy blasted outward, shattering the ice before it could fully form. The impact sent them both sliding back, putting distance between them once more.
The crowd went wild at the clash of techniques.
Jin Shui exhaled, spinning his staff back into position. "Alright, alright..."
Salma didn't answer. She simply raised her hand, ice crystals dancing between her fingertips.
Jin Shui smirked. "Then let's see which of us makes it to the next round."
The clash between Salma and Jin Shui reached its peak, neither side yielding an inch. Ice and shadows weaved through the battlefield, the roaring crowd hanging on every movement, waiting for the first clear sign of victory.
Then, Jin Shui vanished.
The mist swallowed him whole, his presence flickering out of existence like a candle snuffed in the dark. The arena fell silent as towering walls of ice encased the battlefield, creating a labyrinth of cold. The audience strained their eyes, searching for his next move, but he was gone—just as if the shadows themselves had taken him.
Then, he reappeared.
A blur of movement. A flicker of light against his curved dagger—Serpent Fang—as he materialized behind Salma, the killing point at her nape. His strike was perfect. Untraceable. Deadly.
(It's over.) Jin Shui smirked.
But Salma didn't flinch.
She didn't turn. Didn't raise a hand in defense.
Her black eyes weren't even looking at him.
They were locked onto Kazel.
Jin Shui's pupils shrank.
BOOM!
The arena floor cracked as Salma stomped her foot.
Frost erupted beneath Jin Shui like an explosion, jagged ice spearing up to ensnare him in place. His body jerked—his elbow encased in thick frost, his torso locked mid-motion. Only his fingers and head remained free, his smirk lingering despite his predicament.
A single thought flickered in his mind: (Cold. Fast. Merciless.)
Salma, still unmoving, still looking at Kazel, finally parted her lips.
"…Yield."
Jin Shui exhaled, his visible breath curling like smoke in the cold air.
"Haah… well," he chuckled, shifting his grip on his dagger despite the ice creeping up his arm. "This is complete defeat" His gaze followed hers, landing on the smirking Kazel lounging in his seat.
Jin Shui grinned. "—But it looks like I won't be bored to death."
He opened his fingers, letting his dagger clatter onto the frozen ground.
"I yield."
The announcer, who had been frozen in suspense, snapped out of it and quickly raised his voice.
"Salma wins! She moves on to the next round!"
The crowd erupted in cheers, but within the noise, an undercurrent of whispers spread like wildfire.
Salma finally turned away from Kazel and walked off without sparing Jin Shui another glance.
Kazel, still smirking, tilted his head.