Warning: chapter contains accidental exposure

  Chapter 51

  Adam and Xiaoyan stepped onto the stage together, the cheers of the crowd rolling like thunder around them.

  The gamecaster raised his hand. “This next stage will be… simpler than the rest.” His grin hinted otherwise.

  The formation masters moved in unison, their seals lighting up across the arena floor. With a deep rumble, the battlefield warped—giant cubes of stone erupted from below, scattering across the arena in chaotic clusters. Some immediately floated upward, hanging in the air like massive stepping-stones. The ground pulsed strangely beneath their feet, and the audience murmured with excitement, already sensing the danger.

  “The rules are the same,” the gamecaster continued, “but beware—the flow of gravity itself is unstable in this field. Keep your footing… if you can.”

  He turned toward Adam and Xiaoyan. “Do either of you have anything to say before we begin?”

  Both men looked at each other. No words were needed. Adam shook his head. Xiaoyan simply adjusted his stance.

  “Very well,” the gamecaster declared, raising his hand high. “Let the match… begin!”

  The arena went silent, save for the hum of shifting gravity.

  The moment the match began, both Adam and Xiaoyan exploded into motion—Adam flickering forward with Flash Step, while Xiaoyan blurred in with Blazing Echo Step. Their blades clashed with a thunderous clang, sparks flying as the crowd roared.

  Xiaoyan twisted his blade, channeling his Qi into an Explosive Slash aimed straight for Adam’s neck.

  Adam ducked low, the fiery strike grazing just overhead, and swung upward toward Xiaoyan’s exposed back.

  Steel screeched against steel as Xiaoyan parried the counter. With a sharp gesture, he cast an Echo Bubble, trying to trap Adam’s movement.

  But Adam’s instincts were sharp—he shifted aside just before the temporal field solidified, and brought his sword down in a vicious overhead strike.

  Xiaoyan raised his blade, redirecting the blow with practiced precision, then unleashed a sudden blast from his foot, a concentrated explosion that roared straight toward Adam.

  Adam’s skin shimmered into steel, his body turning to metal as he endured the blast. “Not bad,” he muttered, before releasing a rippling Withering Wave that spread outward like a corrosive tide.

  Xiaoyan’s eyes narrowed. He dashed backward, putting distance between them, boots skidding across the stone. Adam’s stance lowered, preparing to cast Grave Nail—

  —when the arena shifted.

  A deep boom reverberated across the battlefield as the pull of the world inverted. The crowd gasped as both fighters—and every unanchored stone cube—were suddenly yanked upward.

  The massive blocks of stone rumbled as they moved, but to the audience’s awe, they never collided. The formation masters’ designs revealed their brilliance: the cubes were arranged in perfect balance, floating just out of each other’s path as though the chaos itself was choreographed.

  Adam and Xiaoyan landed hard upon the once-floating cubes, their balance tested in the new “sky-ground.” Meanwhile, the heavier blocks crashed onto the platform above, creating a battlefield that now hung upside down.

  Adam raised his hand, dark Qi swirling before condensing into jagged spikes. Grave Nails shot forth like streaks of death, tearing through the air toward Xiaoyan.

  But Xiaoyan’s figure blurred. With Blazing Echo Step, he slipped through the gaps, his body weaving like afterimages left in firelight. Each nail missed by the thinnest margin as he closed the distance.

  When Xiaoyan was only inches away, Adam’s eyes flashed. A ripple of sickly energy burst out—Withering Pulse.

  The sudden surge made Xiaoyan’s instincts scream. Without hesitation, he detonated his Qi forward, blasting himself back with a controlled explosion. The pulse and the blast collided, dispersing into smoke and static death Qi that curled and dissipated in the warped gravity.

  From within the haze, Adam vanished.

  Flash Step.

  He reappeared before Xiaoyan, sword-arm vibrating at a high frequency, its edge coated in a black metallic sheen of death Qi. The swing tore through the air with a terrifying hum.

  Xiaoyan barely reacted in time—his sword snapped up just before the strike landed. The impact rang out like a thunderclap, the sheer force threatening to split his arms apart as he was hurled back, flying across the upside-down battlefield.

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  Adam didn’t relent. Another Flash Step—his silhouette appeared midair again, sword raised for a merciless downward chop.

  But Xiaoyan’s mind was sharp even while tumbling. He thrust his free hand outward. An Echo Bubble rippled into existence, catching Adam’s blade mid-swing.

  The weapon struck the slowed temporal field with a heavy thunk, frozen in place as though embedded in solid stone. Adam’s momentum was halted, his body suspended awkwardly in the inverted gravity.

  Meanwhile, Xiaoyan’s fall continued, his boots slamming onto the surface of one of the larger floating cubes below. Dust kicked up around him as he steadied himself, eyes locked on Adam above.

  The duel had entered a new stage.

  The battlefield trembled as gravity twisted once more.

  In an instant, everything reversed—Xiaoyan and Adam, along with the massive stone cubes, all plummeted toward what had just been the “floor.”

  One of the heavier cubes hurtled directly above Adam. His pupils contracted. Without hesitation, he hardened his skin into gleaming steel, bracing himself for impact.

  The collision thundered through the arena. The cube slammed down, shockwaves rippling across the inverted battlefield. Adam grit his teeth, absorbing the crushing weight before blasting himself sideways, skidding away from the collapse.

  Xiaoyan, meanwhile, twisted in midair. Flames roared from his feet as he propelled himself out from beneath another falling cube, narrowly escaping being flattened.

  One by one, the massive blocks crashed down, shaking the ground with each impact until the arena became a jagged landscape of toppled stone and drifting dust.

  Adam straightened, scanning the debris with sharp eyes. “Where are you hiding…?”

  But Xiaoyan was nowhere in sight.

  A faint flicker caught Adam’s attention above.

  He craned his neck—and there Xiaoyan was, clinging effortlessly to the side of a still-floating cube, his hand pressed against it. An Echo Bubble shimmered faintly around him, slowing his descent enough that he could anchor himself like a shadow on the wall. His sword gleamed red-grey against the strange gravity light, pointed directly at Adam.

  Xiaoyan pulled himself fully onto the top of the floating cube, the shifting battlefield beneath him groaning as cubes settled into their inverted arrangement. From that height, Adam was little more than a speck below—far out of reach. Adam waited, arms folded, his metal sheen glinting, clearly unwilling to waste energy on a blind leap.

  Xiaoyan tightened his grip on his sword.

  “Lunaria… how do I get through Adam’s defenses? He’s as tough as tri-grain earthly metal. Nothing’s biting.”

  From within the sword, Lunaria’s voice carried a calm, cool tone.

  “Hmm… you’re right. He’s durable. And he’s not even using that ability of his.”

  Xiaoyan blinked. “...Which ability?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Lunaria answered, almost teasingly. “For now—if you want to win, you need more offense. I’ll teach you a basic technique from my era. It was common then, but I don’t see anyone here using it. It’s called Empowering Enchantment.”

  The name alone made Xiaoyan’s pulse quicken. “What does it do?”

  “It doubles your physical abilities temporarily. Simple, efficient, effective. But beware—when the duration ends, you’ll be weakened considerably. That’s why it was often saved for the final moment, to seize a decisive opening.”

  Xiaoyan’s eyes gleamed. “That’s… really good. Alright, I’ll learn it.”

  He hesitated before asking, “But what about long-range offense? Time… doesn’t it have something?”

  “Not at your stage,” Lunaria said bluntly. “Time is a subtle element. Earlier realms grant little in the way of direct offense. For now, your fire will have to bear the weight. Make it hotter—focus and condense it until it’s hotter than the sun. I will assist you ”

  Xiaoyan clenched his jaw, determination building. “I can do that.”

  Down below, Adam’s voice broke the moment of focus.

  “Are you done yet? The audience is getting bored here!” His tone was half-mocking, half-playful, but his eyes glinted with the readiness of a predator who had no intention of letting Xiaoyan stall forever.

  Xiaoyan steadied his breathing, the sword glowing faintly as Lunaria’s guidance rang in his ears. He drew his fire Qi inward, compressing it against itself, layer by layer. The flames along his blade began to shift—no longer wild and untamed, but focused, honed, growing brighter and sharper as the heat rose.

  Step by step, the fire condensed further. The air around him shimmered like glass, wavering from the intensity. Even standing atop the floating cube, Xiaoyan could feel the weight of the strain on his body, sweat forming across his brow.

  Below, Adam narrowed his eyes. Curious, he bent his knees and with a metallic gleam running down his limbs, vaulted onto one of the mid-sized cubes that had settled closer to Xiaoyan’s height. From there he climbed onto another, working his way up toward the top. His metal-clad frame scraped and clanged lightly against the stone as he moved, but his eyes never left Xiaoyan’s blade.

  “So,” Adam muttered under his breath, “what exactly are you cooking up there?”

  The condensed flame pulsed once—sharp and dangerous, a promise of what was to come.

  At last, Xiaoyan’s fire Qi reached its peak. His sword blazed with a heat so fierce the very air screamed, twisting violently around the blade. With a shout, he swung forward, releasing a condensed sphere of flame—brighter than the sun itself.

  The burning orb screamed through the air, homing in on Adam like a predator refusing to miss its prey. The arena groaned as stone cubes blackened and cracked from its sheer radiance.

  Adam’s eyes widened. There’s no running from this.

  Bracing himself, he hardened his body to gleaming metal, layers of steel rippling over his skin. Death aura surged outward in a haze of dark Qi, devouring the air around him in a desperate attempt to weaken the incoming inferno.

  The blazing sun crashed into him.

  The light and heat roared, tearing at his defenses. His death aura buckled under the overwhelming purity of fire, unable to consume its brilliance. Even as the metal skin began to melt and sear, Adam gritted his teeth, forcing healing light through his body in frantic pulses. Burned flesh was restored the instant it was charred, wounds sealed as fast as they opened.

  Still, the assault pressed on. The flames wanted to erase him entirely.

  Adam stood his ground, locked in a brutal contest of endurance, defending with every layer of strength he had.

  The blazing light finally faded, leaving behind smoke and the acrid stench of molten stone. The crowd leaned forward, straining to see through the haze.

  What stood there looked less like a man and more like a warped statue—Adam’s figure frozen in place, metal skin melted and sagging as if he’d been sculpted from wax left too close to a furnace. His silhouette still resembled a human, but it was grotesque, distorted, and horrifying to behold.

  Then, with a shudder, the melted shell cracked.

  The liquefied metal peeled away in chunks, revealing scorched, blackened flesh beneath. His skin looked like charcoal, blistered and ruined, no part left untouched by the inferno. Gasps echoed from the stands.

  And then… the healing began.

  Light flooded outward from Adam’s core, knitting tissue and skin together—but this time, the process wasn’t smooth. His jaw clenched in silent agony, veins bulging as the restorative Qi forced its way through ruined nerves and flesh. Unlike before, every moment of healing brought fresh pain, his body trembling as if resisting the restoration.

  The charred shell of flesh gradually sloughed off, falling away piece by piece, until beneath the horror emerged the familiar figure once more—Adam, whole and unscathed, as if reborn from the ashes.

  From the stands, a hush fell. For a moment, it was as though he had clawed his way out of his own grave.

  Xiaoyan stared in disbelief, sword still in hand. “…You’re still standing? After that?”

  Adam only cracked his neck, steam hissing faintly from his skin as the last of the burns healed away.

  The audience, however, had a very different reaction. At first came gasps, then a wave of boos—though mixed with laughter. A few women shrieked in embarrassment, while one man in the back shouted out with far too much enthusiasm,

  “Nice pole you got there!”

  The surrounding spectators all turned toward him with looks of disgust and confusion.

  “What?!” he protested defensively, sinking into his seat.

  It was then Adam realized. His clothes had been completely incinerated in the blaze. Every last thread gone.

  Damn, now everyone has seen everything… His eyes narrowed, darting toward the royal podium. Hmm, what’s the princess’s reaction?

  He found her staring—not shocked, not blushing, not even turning away. Just watching him more intently, eyes sharp and unreadable.

  [What even is that look…?]

  “Why aren’t you covering yourself?” Xiaoyan finally asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not even with your hands?”

  Adam tilted his chin up proudly. “Why should I?”

  He folded his arms behind his back, striking a contrapposto pose. “I am not ashamed of my body. If they find it so interesting, then let them marvel at this figure of mine.”

  Some in the crowd roared with laughter, others groaned.

  Fortunately, the emblem woven into his tournament uniform shimmered faintly, repairing what it could. A pair of pants reformed, at least sparing him from further exposure.

  For Adam, though, it wasn’t something he considered a true disgrace in the first place. In his view, cultivators stood above mortal concerns of modesty; strength, Dao, and survival mattered far more than what anyone happened to glimpse. This was simply one of those things that happened in battle, nothing more.

  Incidents like this weren’t unheard of, though rare. The uniforms were enchanted to withstand punishment and recover quickly—but even they had limits when pushed against overwhelming force.