Here I come.

Dozens of figures charged onto the arena almost simultaneously. Spiritual light flashed in all directions, and magical treasures flew through the air.

All kinds of spells and divine abilities poured down as though they cost nothing, engulfing the entire arena.

For a time, blades and swords flashed, and flesh and blood flew everywhere.

From the high platform, Tong Qiannian watched it all with an expressionless face.

His gaze swept across the chaotic battlefield before falling upon his daughter, who lay on the couch with her eyes tightly shut. A trace of sorrow, difficult to detect, flashed through his eyes.

On the third floor, Elder Fang Zheng stood by the window, watching the bloody struggle below with a solemn expression.

The Command Token at his waist trembled faintly, seemingly urging him to intervene.

But in the end, he did not move. He merely closed the window softly.

“Rules are made by people,” Fang Zheng murmured. “But the human heart is difficult to restrain.”

“The most important thing is that he did not break the rules… He merely happened to stand at the very edge of them.”

On the second floor, inside Shu Wanjuan’s private room, Shu Wanjuan sat in his chair with a cold smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Patriarch, when should I enter the arena?”

Shadow One bowed as he reported.

“Let them fight first,” Shu Wanjuan said indifferently. “The more viciously they fight, the better. That way, they won’t have the strength left to compete with you.”

He looked toward the arena, greed flashing in his eyes.

“This fortune, and that sword… will belong to the Shu family in the end.”

On the arena, the battle grew increasingly brutal.

Dozens of cultivators fought in a chaotic melee. There was no technique or order left—only the most primitive instinct to kill.

Blood soaked the black iron arena. Severed limbs flew through the air, and the atmosphere was thick with the stench of blood.

As the first person to enter the arena, Wang Ba had indeed displayed the strength of a late-stage Dao Integration cultivator.

His body was burly, and every punch and kick carried the might to split mountains and shatter rocks. Each time he swung his fists, he sent a cultivator flying.

He was like a human-shaped tyrannosaur, rampaging through the crowd and forcibly carving out a path of bloodshed.

However, he was not made of iron.

When faced with a joint assault from dozens of people, no matter how powerful he was, his spiritual energy would eventually run dry.

The protective spiritual light around his body had long since shattered, revealing the bloody wounds beneath.

Yet he did not make a sound. His eyes held nothing but the most primitive killing intent.

“Pfft!”

A Nascent Soul cultivator seized the opportunity to launch a sneak attack, driving a poisoned dagger into Wang Ba’s back.

Wang Ba grunted. He swung a fist backward and blew the cultivator’s head apart, but the dagger had already sunk three inches into his flesh.

“Get lost!” Wang Ba roared, his eyes bloodshot.

At that moment, his ferocity and courage were displayed to the fullest.

He did not bother with the dagger. Instead, he used the pain to unleash even greater strength.

Seizing two cultivators beside him, he slammed them together.

The two bodies exploded instantly, filling the air with a mist of blood.

The other cultivators felt their hearts tighten at the sight.

This Wang Ba was truly insane.

No one wanted to become the final casualty he dragged down with him before his death.

The melee continued for a full fifteen minutes.

When Tong Qiannian struck the small hammer in his hand once more, only Wang Ba remained standing on the arena, swaying unsteadily.

His entire body was covered in blood, and his aura was feeble, but his tiger-like eyes still held an unyielding ferocity.

At his feet lay more than a dozen corpses in disarray—all cultivators who had attempted to challenge him.

“Hiss…”

In the first-floor hall, everyone drew a sharp breath.

No one had expected Wang Ba to be the one laughing last.

Although he had suffered severe injuries, he had ultimately held out for the duration of a single incense stick.

“Who else?!” Wang Ba panted heavily. His voice was hoarse, yet it still carried an overbearing force. “Who else dares to come up here and fight me?!”

The area below the arena fell utterly silent.

It was not that they were afraid of Wang Ba.

Everyone understood that although Wang Ba had won, he had paid a terrible price.

His spiritual energy was exhausted, and his body was gravely wounded.

Anyone who went up now would undoubtedly be taking advantage of him.

But who was willing to surrender the opportunity?

Everyone wanted to wait until the end and reap the benefits after the others had fought.

Their mutual suspicion and hesitation caused the entire scene to sink into a brief stalemate.

“Senior Brother… Why are these people going up there to die when their cultivation is so much weaker than that Wang Ba’s?”

Su Ji sighed. “Who knows? Perhaps they lost their minds because of the spirit stones. Perhaps they had old grudges against Wang Ba and realized that, for this brief moment, they had a chance to kill him, so they joined forces to attack.”

“But none of that matters. With so many Mahayana cultivators present, there’s no way Wang Ba will be the one to come out on top.”

“Perhaps he knows that himself. Maybe he simply wanted to use this opportunity to raise his reputation a little.”

“Many things aren’t as simple as they appear on the surface. It’s not as though someone sees him stepping onto the arena and thinks, ‘Oh, why did he go up? What an idiot.’”

Su Jiu nodded, seeming to understand and yet not quite understanding.

She bit her lip.

“Um…”

“Um… When will you enter the arena, Senior Brother?”

Su Ji shook his head. “There’s no rush.”

He glanced at Tong Xiaoxiao on the high platform, then looked toward Fang Zheng on the third floor and the figures on the second floor who were already itching to make their move.

“If I go up now, I’ll become everyone’s target.”

“Besides, that token is a hot potato.”

“Oh? You figured it out, kid.” The Old Emperor cut in, sounding somewhat puzzled.

“Tong Qiannian said that whoever obtains the token must take his daughter to Mount Imperial Court and find Elder Fang Zheng to exchange it.” The corners of Su Ji’s mouth curled into an amused smile. “Carrying that token is like carrying a death warrant. Even if someone obtains it, whether they have the life to leave Skywater City is another matter entirely…”

Just then.

A slender figure slowly emerged from the crowd in the first-floor hall.

It was a young man dressed in a faded blue-green robe, with a jade pendant hanging at his waist.

His features were handsome and delicate, but his eyes held a composure far beyond his years.

He ignored the surprised gazes around him and walked straight toward the arena.

Wang Ba looked at the boy, contempt flashing through his eyes. “You little brat. Are you here to die?”

The boy said nothing. He merely walked to the edge of the arena and leaped lightly, landing steadily upon it.

He stood in a pool of blood, yet not a speck of dust stained him.

He raised his head. His gaze passed over Wang Ba and landed on Tong Xiaoxiao, who lay on the couch atop the high platform.

“Xiaoxiao.”

The boy’s voice was soft, yet it reached Tong Xiaoxiao’s ears clearly.

Her delicate body suddenly trembled.

Her tightly shut eyes slowly opened.

She looked at the boy on the arena. At last, a faint glimmer of light appeared in her hollow, almond-shaped eyes.

The boy smiled at her faintly. His smile was warm, yet carried a trace of bitterness.

“I’m here.”

But the girl remained expressionless and gave him no response.

The boy could only press his lips together, his thoughts impossible to read.

He turned around and looked at Wang Ba. There was not the slightest trace of fear in his eyes—only the purest determination.

“Sect Master Wang, please enlighten me.”

Wang Ba froze for a moment before bursting into loud laughter.

“Hahahaha! Interesting! Truly interesting! I never expected Young Miss Tong to have a childhood sweetheart!”

He reined in his laughter, and his gaze turned cold.

“Kid, you’re brave. But bravery alone won’t keep you alive.”

The boy did not respond. He merely drew the sword at his waist.

It was an ordinary-looking iron sword, with even a few spots of rust upon it.

However, the instant the blade left its sheath…

A cold sword intent instantly filled the entire arena.

It was neither murderous nor overbearing.

It was something…

A sword intent born of despair.

“Heh, interesting.”

For the first time, the Old Emperor’s voice carried a hint of amusement from within Su Ji’s sea of consciousness.

“This kid…”

Su Ji’s gaze narrowed slightly.