Luo Shen's palm slammed against the armrest with a resounding thwack, his voice like a whip cracking through the tense silence. "What's the meaning of this?!"
From the Rising Stone Sect's seating area, Weh shot up, his face twisted in rage. "Noel, you're going too far!"
Noel, however, remained perfectly composed. He barely spared Weh a glance as he crossed his legs, his smirk deepening. "Don't be stupid." His voice was smooth, almost amused. "He didn't break any rules. He never interfered in the match. Isn't that right, Announcer?"
The poor announcer flinched under the sudden attention. "C-Correct!" he stammered, wiping the sweat from his brow. "It seems our rising star is just... eager for battle! But sadly, he'll have to wait for one more match."
Kazel chuckled, his smirk widening as he slid his sword back into its sheath with a quiet, satisfying click. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes gleaming with mockery. "Looks like you got lucky."
Yuanggai's entire body tensed. His fingers curled so tightly into his palms that his nails dug into his flesh. He had won. And yet, he had lost.
The crowd erupted into cheers, but to Yuanggai, the announcement felt hollow.
"Winner—Yuanggai!"
But no amount of applause could wash away the sting of Kazel's words, the sheer humiliation of being spared.
Salma stepped forward next, her gaze flickering toward Kazel. He remained nonchalant, completely indifferent—as if what had just transpired meant nothing at all.
She narrowed her eyes before shifting her attention to the massive figure awaiting her. Batu, the towering disciple of the Ironhide Sect, cracked his knuckles, the sound like boulders grinding together.
Salma exhaled, frost curling around her lips. "Let's get this over with."
Beneath the deafening cheers of the crowd, Luo Shen sat with a stiff spine, his fingers rhythmically tapping against his armrest. His heel bounced up and down, a silent indication of the storm brewing within him. His eyes, closed yet calculating, betrayed his thoughts—he had lost interest. The match below failed to keep his attention, and without a word, he stood, his robes fluttering slightly as he turned on his heel and left his seat.
Kazel, seated among the combatants, lazily trailed his gaze upward. He caught sight of Luo Shen departing from the second level, leaving the patriarchs' row. His brow arched in mild curiosity. (Where is he off to?)
He turned his attention to Yuanggai. The boy sat hunched over, trying to regulate his ragged breaths. He wasn't watching the match either. No—his eyes were glued to Kazel, filled with silent fury, frustration, and something else Kazel found amusing.
A soft chuckle left Kazel's lips.
But then, something else caught his eye. A tournament staff member was approaching. The announcer's voice boomed in the background, calling out, "Fight!" But Kazel barely registered it.
His focus remained on the staff member weaving through the crowd, heading directly toward him.
Kazel exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. (Trouble always comes looking for me, doesn't it?)
Rather than waiting, he got up and walked straight toward the staff member—then passed them without a second glance.
The staff, clearly startled, turned on their heels. "U-Um, excuse me, Young Master Kazel!"
Kazel's voice was light, yet carried weight. "Where is he?"
The staff blinked, momentarily stunned before answering, "Ah—at the corner of the tunnel."
"Alright." Without breaking stride, Kazel slipped into the tunnel, escaping the watchful eyes of the arena.
Back outside, Jin Shui tilted his head, watching the interaction unfold. "Hmm?" He pushed off his seat, about to follow, but the same staff member stepped in his way, shaking their head.
In the audience, Saya and Yiren furrowed their brows at the sudden movement.
"Where is he going?" Yiren muttered, tapping her fingers on her armrest.
Beside her, a masked figure chuckled. "Maybe he just needs to take a leak."
Meanwhile, deep within the tunnel, Kazel smirked.
Before him stood the man who had just left the patriarchs' row—the one who had chosen to remove himself from the spectacle of battle.
"Luo Shen."
His voice carried amusement, curiosity, and just a hint of challenge.
"Kazel, you're a—"
Luo Shen's lips parted, but before he could finish his sentence, Kazel cut him off.
"Pitch me your deal."
The words were spoken so casually, so confidently, that Luo Shen momentarily faltered. (He knew? He was expecting me?) The patriarch of the Jade Lotus Sect narrowed his eyes.
He had planned to guide the conversation, ease into it, but Kazel had already stripped away the pleasantries. It was as if he were a merchant demanding the price of a good rather than a young prodigy facing one of the most influential sect leaders in the region.
"Come on then." Kazel smirked, his arms crossed, standing as if he had all the time in the world.
A cold wind rushed through the tunnel, swirling dust between them. The muffled echoes of battle raged outside—cheers, clashes, the sound of bodies meeting force. But in this tunnel, in this moment, it felt like a different kind of duel.
Luo Shen inhaled, steadying himself. (This boy… he's even more dangerous than I thought.)
"Very well," he finally said, adjusting his sleeves.
He had come to test the waters, but now he felt like he had already stepped too deep.
Luo Shen's voice was smooth, confident. "I want you to forfeit the next match. Yuanggai is in no condition to fight after unleashing that technique."
Kazel remained silent, his expression unreadable.
Luo Shen continued, stepping closer. "And in return… you will receive ten thousand Spirit Stones." He let the offer settle before adding, "I know your sect is struggling. I also know you intend to revive it."
Kazel gave a slow nod. "You're right. I do intend to revive it."
Luo Shen grinned, sensing an opportunity. "Then let's not be enemies. I know you're a reasonable person. Who knows? Maybe in the future, our sects could be allies. Even great friends." He reached out and placed a firm hand on Kazel's shoulder, his grip meant to be both reassuring and imposing.
But the moment was fleeting.
Kazel's fingers brushed against Luo Shen's wrist, pushing it aside with effortless ease. His blue eyes gleamed under the dim tunnel light. "You don't seem to understand," he said, his tone colder than the wind slipping through the tunnel. "If you wanted me to forfeit, you should've offered me your entire sect."
Luo Shen's smirk faltered.
A stronger gust of wind swept through, rustling Kazel's cape as he turned on his heel. His steps were slow, deliberate, but filled with unmistakable finality.
Luo Shen's hand clenched into a fist. "You—!" His voice carried a seething edge. "You dare refuse me?! Do you not realize the consequences?"
Kazel paused, his back still turned.
Luo Shen took the pause as hesitation and pressed forward, confidence returning to his voice. "That's right. You don't want another enemy, do you? The Rising Stone Sect already wants your head. Adding the Jade Lotus Sect to your list of adversaries—now that would be foolish."
Silence.
Then, Kazel slowly turned. His hand rested casually on his waist, his posture relaxed—almost amused. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"You have the best seat in the house to find out whether I dare or not."
The gust returned, fiercer than before. Luo Shen instinctively raised his arm to shield his face from the cold blast.
By the time he lowered it, Kazel was already gone—stepping back into the arena.
Luo Shen's jaw clenched. (That brat… does he truly not fear my sect?!)
Meanwhile, inside the arena, Kazel's gaze landed on the battlefield. Batu stood frozen in place, ice climbing up his body in jagged formations.
And standing before him, at the center of it all, was Salma.
She was staring straight at Kazel, her cold, unyielding eyes locking onto his. A silent challenge. A silent expectation.