Are You Okay

"Sword."

Ye Chuan examined the blade radiating with violet light, its eerie purple aura causing the surrounding air to ripple.

This is a good one.

Just as he muttered those words and reached to store it in his backpack's spatial inventory, a force of resistance surged from the weapon. It trembled before abruptly levitating into the air.

"It moved?" Niya said.

"Hummm—" A pulse of violet light erupted as the sword plunged into the ground. A domineering aura instantly expanded into a domain, pressing Niya down with crushing force.

"My body… I can't move." Niya struggled to hold herself up, but when she looked up, she noticed Ye Chuan standing beside her, completely unaffected—as if nothing had happened.

"You're fine?"

"Of course. Git gud." Ye Chuan flashed a grin, teeth gleaming white.

In the next instant, he flickered beside the sword and reached for its hilt.

The moment his fingers neared it, the blade transformed into a streak of light, darting away before hovering beside Niya. Countless rays of energy surged from the sword, flooding into her body.

"Ah…" Niya's consciousness seemed hijacked—her pupils darkened into a deep violet-black.

Expressionless, she rose to her feet and pulled the sword from the ground.

"Mind control?" Before Ye Chuan could react, Niya swung casually. A crescent of violet sword energy slashed toward him!

Ye Chuan vanished from sight.

The energy struck a stone pillar behind him, leaving a deep gash before the entire structure collapsed into rubble.

As Ye Chuan glanced back, seven or eight more sword arcs came sweeping at him.

"Ting." A crisp metallic ring echoed as he drew his own blade, deflecting the attacks. The impact sent him skidding back several steps.

"Damn, you pack a punch."

Done playing around, Ye Chuan flicked a finger. "Go."

His spectral clones swarmed in from all sides. Though Niya cut down a few, the sheer number overwhelmed her, pinning her to the floor.

Della, meanwhile, cheerfully hammered away at the sword with her tiny mallet, rhythmic clangs ringing out like a blacksmith’s forge.

"Hummm—"

"BOOM!"

Enraged, the black sword erupted with a shockwave of energy. A pillar of violet-black light blasted upward, shattering the surrounding stone tiles.

Yet the clones remained unfazed, continuing to stomp and pummel the weapon relentlessly.

Synchronized with Ye Chuan’s Chaos energy, they were utterly immune to such attacks.

Gradually, the black sword could no longer endure. It tore free from Niya’s grip and shot into the air.

"Hmph, running?" Ye Chuan recalled his clones and prepared to pursue—

"Bilibili, Binding Magic!"

A glowing sphere materialized midair, latching onto the sword with chains that coiled around it in a tortoise-shell bind. The weapon struggled briefly before clattering to the ground.

"Huh?" Ye Chuan turned to see a gaunt old man in robes standing nearby, gripping an oversized staff.

"You too, old man?" Ye Chuan smirked. "Don’t tell me you’ve been spectating this whole time, you sly fox."

"Bullshit! I just got here!" Si Daofu glared.

If not for that brothel membership discount card Ye Chuan owed him, he’d have blasted the kid with a spell already.

"You know this thing?" Ye Chuan recalled Si Daofu had insisted on coming to the arena. Was this sword his real target?

"Worry about the girl first." Si Daofu pointed at Niya, now face-down on the floor.

After the clone beatdown, she wasn’t moving.

"She’s fine. Just napping."

"With a face full of bruises?"

"Relaxation massage. Deeper sleep." Ye Chuan tossed a healing spell her way before circling back. "You didn’t answer me."

"I owe you no explanation." Si Daofu’s expression darkened as he studied the black sword. "This isn’t something you can control. Wielding it will bring nothing but regret."

"Behold—the Demon Sword Beyana."

"I sensed its presence days ago. Never thought it’d actually be here…"

"Cool." Ye Chuan picked up the sword and gave it a few test swings. "Lightweight."

Si Daofu’s eyes nearly bulged out. "You idiot, I told you not to touch it!"

"Eh, no big deal." Ye Chuan shrugged. Energy attacks meant nothing to him. "It’s just a—"

Before he could finish, jagged black spikes erupted from the hilt, impaling his hand!

A surge of violet energy seeped into his veins through the wounds.

Instantly, Ye Chuan’s arm went limp. His expression blanked, eyes flooding with the same eerie purple.

"Possessed by the sword." Si Daofu groaned. No choice now—he had to subdue the kid first. "Bala-la, Gravity Field!"

His staff slammed down, multiplying the weight of the air tenfold.

"Serves you right, you mouthy brat." Yet the next moment, Si Daofu gaped as Ye Chuan strode forward unaffected, black sword in hand.

A flash of steel—Si Daofu’s beard was sheared clean off!

"Clang!" Blocking with his staff, Si Daofu broke into a cold sweat. "How?! My magic can’t suppress him?"

"Quickcast!" Buffing himself in a panic, he channeled energy through his staff. "Dispel Magic!"

The spell should’ve blasted Ye Chuan back. Instead, he stood unmoved—while Niya, still unconscious, went rolling across the floor like a kicked ball before face-planting.

"Still nothing?!" This defied all magical logic.

Ye Chuan’s foot connected next, sending Si Daofu flying.

The old man tumbled before catching himself with his staff. "Guh… A seventh-tier archmage, beaten by a punk." He rubbed his aching back.

"Fine. No holding back—GYAH!" Another kick cut him off mid-sentence.

Then, abruptly, Ye Chuan froze. He tilted the sword curiously.

"Huh. Was I just mind-controlled?"

Turning to Si Daofu—now sprawled on the ground—he feigned shock.

"Hey, old fox. You good?"