The arena remained frozen in a strange, suffocating stillness.

  Mitsuki Yamamoto’s corpse still lay within the ring, eyes wide and lifeless, his expression forever locked between arrogance and disbelief. A saint—no, a Hidden Dragon—had died without a scream, without resistance, without even understanding how.

  For several breaths, no one dared speak.

  Then a soft sigh echoed through the Celestial Sect’s grand arena.

  Sect Leader Isumi Yang rose from her seat, her robes fluttering faintly as she descended halfway into the air. Her expression was composed, but those who knew her well could see the tension beneath the surface.

  “Everyone,” she said calmly, her voice carrying spiritual authority, “the Celestial Sect apologizes for the inconvenience.”

  Her gaze shifted—respectfully, cautiously—toward Jin.

  “Sect Leader Jin… Mitsuki Yamamoto was once my disciple. But he betrayed the Celestial Sect long ago and joined a demonic organization known as Wonderland.”

  At the mention of that name, several elders stiffened.

  Isumi continued, her voice growing colder.

  “In recent years, Wonderland has committed unforgivable acts. They once slaughtered an entire city near our borders—men, women, children—using them as sacrifices for forbidden rituals.”

  A murmur of rage and disgust rippled through the sect leaders’ stands.

  Wonderland.

  A name synonymous with madness.

  At the far end of the arena, Jin Valentine leaned back slightly in his seat.

  His expression… darkened.

  Not anger.

  Disdain.

  “So,” Jin said casually, his voice carrying effortlessly across the arena, “they’re still crawling around.”

  His crimson eyes narrowed just a fraction.

  “They won’t be alive for long anyway.”

  The temperature of the arena seemed to drop.

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  “Maybe I should just wipe them out,” Jin continued, tilting his head as if genuinely considering it. “Yes… that would be a good idea. Individuals like that don’t deserve mercy.”

  A faint smile curved his lips—one that made saints uneasy.

  “I’ll make them suffer,” he added softly, “even in death.”

  Several sect leaders swallowed.

  Isumi inclined her head. “Thank you for understanding, Sect Leader Jin. We may resume the competition—”

  Before she could finish, Jin rose to his feet.

  “I’ll set up a barrier,” he said. “No one will interfere again.”

  He lifted a single finger.

  The world responded.

  A vast, invisible dome of demonic and heavenly qi expanded outward from Jin’s position, sealing the entire arena. Space itself shimmered as the barrier locked into place.

  “This barrier,” Jin said calmly, “cannot be entered or broken without serious injury.”

  Several elders tested it instinctively.

  Their expressions changed instantly.

  Unbreakable.

  At least… to them.

  “Proceed,” Jin said, returning to his seat.

  That was when Ren Kai stood up.

  The Verdant Sect Leader’s expression was composed, but his eyes flickered with something dark.

  “I need some air,” Ren Kai said smoothly. “The earlier incident… was unpleasant.”

  Jin didn’t look at him immediately.

  Instead, he smiled.

  “Where are you going, friend?” Jin asked lightly.

  “Don’t have the heart to watch a dead man?”

  Ren Kai’s jaw tightened.

  He gave a short laugh. “You always had a sharp tongue, Jin.”

  Turning, he walked away from the sect leader’s section and disappeared into a secluded corridor behind the arena.

  The moment he was alone, Ren Kai clenched his fists.

  “Damn it…” he muttered.

  “You forced my hand, Jin.”

  He looked around, ensuring no one was present.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore,” Ren Kai whispered. “It wouldn’t stay hidden for long anyway.”

  The shadows behind him shifted.

  A figure emerged, cloaked in darkness, its presence cold and unnatural.

  “Are you ready to join us?” the figure asked, its voice distorted.

  “Fully?”

  Ren Kai didn’t hesitate.

  “Yes.”

  The shadow nodded. “Then the elite squad will be sent.”

  The figure dissolved into darkness.

  Ren Kai exhaled slowly, smoothing his robes, masking every trace of tension.

  When he returned to his seat moments later, he looked exactly the same as before—calm, dignified, untouchable.

  Only Jin noticed the faint change in his aura.

  And Jin smiled.

  The competition resumed.

  Battles followed battles—spectacular clashes of qi, techniques, blood, and pride. The Heavenly Demonic Sect’s disciples watched keenly, the five demons standing tall, radiating confidence that unsettled their peers.

  Yet amidst the noise, the cheers, and the violence…

  Lian Yue sat silently.

  Her hands trembled in her lap.

  Her eyes were hollow.

  I don’t know what to do anymore…

  She stared at the arena without seeing it.

  It started so well…

  And ended so badly.

  Her chest tightened.

  Because of me.

  Memories surfaced—soft words, false promises, manipulation wrapped in affection.

  I was used… again and again.

  Her lips parted, but no sound came.

  Eventually… I was always going to be discarded.

  Slowly, she lifted her gaze toward the sky beyond the arena.

  Clouds drifted peacefully above—indifferent to her turmoil.

  Tears welled, but didn’t fall.

  “I was wrong,” she whispered.

  “So wrong…”

  Her fingers clenched.

  “When this competition is over,” Lian Yue murmured, her voice barely audible, “I’ll confess.”

  Her heart pounded painfully.

  “To Jin.”

  “And to the sects.”

  “Everything that happened.”

  The wind brushed her face gently, as if carrying her resolve away into the heavens.

  Unaware that once spoken…

  Those truths would set the entire cultivation world ablaze.