~~~

Feng Zhi walks into the ring.

The crowd’s cheers boom around him with deafening intensity, but Feng Zhi only pays attention to the person in the center of the arena. Though he is dressed in the gold and black of the Eternal Flame Clan, it is hard to think of him as one of their disciples. Not with everything that has happened. Once an annoyance, then a possible danger, now… an ally? Feng Zhi would rather not dwell on the issue too much.

The one constant about Qing Jin is his ability to cause headaches.

“I have made things hard for you.”

Feng Zhi’s eye twitches. Qing Jin has the annoying tendency to speak as though he could read his thoughts, and he does it with unnerving accuracy. Multiple times, Feng Zhi has wondered if maybe Qing Jin really is capable of something like that. Then, he remembers all the other times Qing Jin could not predict basic responses and realizes how foolish the notion is.

“Do not try to apologize for actions you do not regret taking. If you had the opportunity to relive these days, you would do the exact same things,” Feng Zhi says. His aura flares around him with force.

Earth Realm, Level Eight.

“True,” Qing Jin says. “I saw your match with Huang Shing. You both fought well.”

Qing Jin’s aura rises as he speaks. As always, it is annoyingly subtle. It drifts around him like morning mist. Before one realizes it, it already surrounds all. A looming presence that appears out of nowhere. A sudden cloud that darkens a sunny day. That is how intimidating the presence of the Emperor of the Storm Dragon Empire is.

Earth Realm, Level Nine.

“I have no need for your compliments,” Feng Zhi says.

Less than four years ago, Feng Zhi had been Qing Jin’s superior in cultivation. The notion seems almost laughable now. Though there are several bets in Feng Zhi’s favor, Liu Jin is the clear favorite in this fight, and Feng Zhi cannot disagree with that assertion. In fact, he feels some of the estimates regarding his chances of victory are a little too generous.

The fight against Huang Shing took a toll on him. The physical and spiritual damage may have healed, but the mental exhaustion remains. By comparison, Qing Jin had a much easier time against his opponent and…

Feng Zhi smiles.

Who is he trying to fool?

The difference between them might be one mere level of cultivation—and there is nothing mere about that—but Liu Jin has something else beyond that. It is not a technique, a relic, or the value of whatever Inheritance he has that makes him stronger. It is something deeper, something Feng Zhi was lacking until his fight with Huang Shing.

However, can someone who has hit his first bullseye compare to a master bowman? Feng Zhi is not sure about that. His cultivation, the relic, his Dao. Those are the tools he has at his disposal. They will have to do. Even if he knows the odds are small, he just needs to make that small probability into reality.

If he is not willing to try that much, how can he call himself a cultivator?

“Feng Zhi of the Eternal Flame Clan vs. Qin Jin of the Eternal Flame Clan!”

Feng Zhi strikes first, bringing his arms forward and unleashing the Eternal Flame. It rushes towards Qing Jin while also wrapping around Feng Zhi’s body to protect him. The precaution serves him well. Not even a second passes before Feng Zhi feels lightning strike behind him and be devoured by his flames. He immediately turns around, trying and failing to catch a glimpse of Qing Jin.

[Art of the Roaming Thief]

That is what his Uncle and Father called it. A movement technique capable of such impeccable stealth that even Emperors will not be able to find Qing Jin once the tournament ends. Feng Zhi is not sure how much he believes that, but he can at least admit his senses are not enough to locate Qing Jin despite knowing he is in the ring with him.

However, that’s the thing. He knows Qing Jin is in the ring with him.

Feng Zhi’s golden flames explode all around him, making him look akin to a volcano as he fills the ring with fire. He is using more power than he’d like, but this is the best way to handle this fight. Under any other circumstance, Liu Jin would be able to go in and out of the city without him realizing it, but in this tiny square, there is no place for him to run.

Feng Zhi wonders if that’s on purpose.

Because it is safer to try to capture Qing Jin within the confines of the tournament, the other Sects have avoided acting in a more overt manner. It is safer for them, but it is also safer for Qing Jin. It allows him to avoid dealing with Emperors for as long as the tournament lasts. Did Qing Jin take that into account?

Why is he even asking?

Of course, he did.

With steam flaring from his nostrils, Feng Zhi tosses fireballs around the ring. The orbs of golden flames do not fade or crash. Instead, they remain floating two feet above the ground, increasing the temperature and turning the ring into molten rock.

More lightning tries to strike Feng Zhi. The bolts appear from random places around the ring, but his flames burn them before they can touch him. If he were fighting Chen Guo, that man would have already tried to break through his flames to face him, but Qing Jin is not like that. His fighting style is unnervingly methodical. He’ll poke and prod for as long as possible, trying to solve him like a puzzle and deliver the finishing strike once he does.

Feng Zhi can use that.

He always knew this would be a battle of endurance. That is precisely why it doesn’t matter if he can score a hit on Qing Jin early on or not. In fact, he’ll probably tire himself out if he tries. Right now, the only thing that matters is turning the battlefield into one most advantageous to him. The one that will give him what he needs the most.

Heat.

Feng Zhi brings his hands together, willing his flames to burn with more strength. The air inside the ring starts to twist and turn, becoming so distorted that Feng Zhi can barely see beyond the tip of his nose. Even the barrier seems to quiver under the heat, and many of those in the lower seats of the arena start moving up, deciding that watching the match on their feet is preferable to fainting in their seats.

Strong as Qing Jin is, even he cannot protect himself from the heat that scorches the arena. He can make as many snakes as he wants to block the flames, but heat remains a constant. No matter what he does, it will begin to wear him down.

Thunder roars.

Feng Zhi smirks as purple lightning bolts begin falling around him. He spreads his hands out and widens his barrier of flames, shaping it into a sphere that easily burns the deadly bolts.

At least, that is what it should have done.

Feng Zhi winces as some of the current manages to pierce through. Once upon a time, the Eternal Flame gave him a definite edge, but Qing Jin’s purple lightning is every bit as pure. No matter, his shield has to hold. Feng Zhi cannot let Qing Jin think that he can be dealt with at a distance. The only way Feng Zhi can win is if he draws Qing Jin close enough to negate the advantage of his movement technique.

The fiery orbs floating around the ring shine brighter in response to Feng Zhi’s will. The heat they emit has nearly finished turning the ring into molten rock. Amid such a hellish landscape, Feng Zhi brings his hands together and focuses on a single word.

Cleanse.

It is faint and hesitant, yet Feng Zhi taps into it all the same. After what is fire if not a way to burn out impurities? And in this ring, within these four corners, there is only one impurity that blocks his way.

Qing Jin.

Not for the first time, Feng Zhi feels glad that he once harbored hostility towards Qing Jin. It makes it extremely easy, some would say satisfying, to think of him as something that needs to be burned away. The heat in the arena intensifies in resonance with his Dao, melting everything within the barrier.

“I am impressed. Not many would be able to call upon their Dao so quickly after discovering it. I couldn’t.”

Qing Jin appears in front of him as though he has been there all along. Perhaps he has. His body is protected inside one of his snake constructs, but Feng Zhi can see the sweat on his brow. That is why he is making his presence known. He is incentivizing Feng Zhi to attack him directly instead of using heat to overwhelm him.

Feng Zhi snorts.

“You face the Young Master of the Eternal Flame Clan! Do not hold me to your meagre standards!”

It is pure bravado, but that is exactly what Feng Zhi needs right now. He makes a fist, and every fireball in the ring converges on Qing Jin’s location. Purple lightning crackles around Qing Jin’s construct as it charges directly at Feng Zhi. The fireballs land one after another, exploding with force and damaging the construct, yet it does not stop. The snake’s eyes shine with hunger as it opens its mouth.

A fiery blade shines in Feng Zhi’s hands and pierces through the head of the giant snake.

Despite how hard it is to see inside the ring, Feng Zhi has a moment to enjoy the brief shock that appears on Qing Jin’s face before his flaming sword destroys the snake. Feng Zhi follows it up with a slash, releasing a crescent-shaped flame at Qing Jin, then a second one, and a third.

Fortuitous as it is for the relic to be so adept at channeling Feng Zhi’s flames, it only makes sense. After all, the Crimson Cloud and the Eternal Flame were once one. Feng Zhi feels the truth of it as the fiery sword refines his flames, giving them greater potency and force. Each of his slices sends the magma in the ring splashing against the barrier.

And yet, for all their power, Feng Zhi’s attacks fail to hit. Qing Jin’s construct is sliced into pieces, but the person inside it just fades away.

Feng Zhi reaches for his Dao once more.

Cleanse.

He stabs the sword into the molten ring, and the magma explodes in all directions. There is nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. The ring is Feng Zhi’s domain, and there is only one impurity in it.

At least, that is what it should have been.

Suddenly, dozens of Qing Jins are running around the ring. Spears of lightning and snakes appear by the dozen, testing the limits of his defensive flames. Feng Zhi tells himself there is no point in trying to find the real one, yet years of training cannot be easily done. Every trained instinct in him tells him that he needs to locate his foe.

Cleanse.

The word echoes within him again. The heat rises. He cannot let Qing Jin influence him. One Qing Jin or a thousand. It makes no difference.

It all burns the same.

[Golden Prominence]

The world around Feng Zhi explodes in a pillar of golden fire. Imperial Cloud City trembles under the might of a newborn sun whose radiance can be seen for miles.

Faced with such power, Qing Jin can only focus on defense.

Feng Zhi lunges, his Dao telling him exactly where the impurity is. He slams into Qing Jin like an angry meteorite. The snake construct around Qing Jin screeches as golden flames consume it, but Qing Jin does not flinch. With purple lightning wrapped around his body to protect him, Qing Jin advances. A spear of purple appears in his hand. Feng Zhi’s blade sublimates it on contact, yet the clash throws off his aim.

Qing Jin does not miss.

The bolt of purple rampages throughout Feng Zhi’s body. His flames explode around him as he loses control of his technique. It is the first hit Qing Jin lands on him, yet Feng Zhi feels the tide turning with it. He grits his teeth and wills the relic to blaze brighter. A burst of fire slams into Qing Jin.

Qing Jin refuses to give him space. He materializes a snake construct around his body to endure the flames and rams Feng Zhi into the magma. The two go deep inside the ring until they hit the lower limits of the barrier. Lighting boils the magma and ravages Feng Zhi’s body. His flames weaken. His vision grows hazy.

No!

Pure resolve flows from Feng Zhi’s body. His blade glows with blinding light as he attacks. Flame and lightning rampage across the field of magma as the two clash multiple times. Feng Zhi pushes his nascent Dao to its limits, trying his best to eliminate Qing Jin from his sight.

He can see his path to victory. The ring is under his control. His Dao grows sharper with every passing second. A thousand snakes try to swarm him, and a thousand snakes are annihilated in an instant. His sword grows several yards as he swings it, nearly covering the full length of the ring.

Qing Jin blocks with purple lightning, yet the impact staggers him. He is starting to tire. Feng Zhi can see it. He lunges. The relic in his hand glows with mighty power. His victory. He can see it. He can see…it…

…

Why is he falling?

Feng Zhi does not understand. His legs suddenly lose strength. His vision is suddenly hazy in a way that has little to do with how much the heat has wrapped the air. Why is this..?

Realization flashes through his mind.

“Poison…” he breathes out, desperately trying to seek Qing Jin’s gaze with his last traces of consciousness.

He had been so focused on finding Qing Jin, then on fighting the lightning and thunder and snakes, that he stopped thinking about the poison. However, when had he been poisoned? Was it… when he buried him in the magma?

A tired breath leaves Feng Zhi’s mouth. Despite his fading consciousness, Feng Zhi manages to smile.

At least, he does until a jolt of Qing Jin’s Qi penetrates his mind, sending a singular message to his consciousness.

Qing Jin truly is… an annoying man.

~~~

“The Winner! Qing Jin of the Eternal Flame Clan!”

Liu Jin waves at the audience as he is declared the winner, grateful to step outside the field of magma the ring has turned into. It is good that his match with Feng Zhi is the last of the day. Repairing all that damage won’t be easy.

A step with [Art of the Roaming Thief] carries him outside the arena, putting him away from everyone’s eyes. Nevertheless, Liu Jin strains his senses, making sure that there is no one around and that he is as well-hidden as possible.

Only then does he fall to his knees.

He bites his tongue to stop himself from screaming. He did his best to repair the visible damage so the audience would not notice, but his body is full of burns. The heat Feng Zhi surrounded himself with proved highly effective, especially once he started infusing his Dao into it. It is not the sort of thing that can be healed easily. Liu Jin should have used his Dao to counter it.

However, he couldn’t.

Acts made when invoking one’s Dao are acts with meaning. One can bend and stretch their Dao in various ways to accommodate it to the situation, but it absolutely cannot be broken. To use his Dao on Feng Zhi would mean to find him Hollow. Liu Jin would need to trick himself into coming to that conclusion.

He is not sure what would have happened to him if he had, but he is absolutely certain that the consequences on Feng Zhi would have been dire. It is not an act that can be taken lightly.

Besides, if Liu Jin had done it, Feng Zhi would have been left in no state to act on his message.

Breathing deeply, Liu Jin stabs himself with needles to mute his pain and begins to take off his clothes. The wounds on his body are not a pretty sight.

He will need to have them fixed by the morning.

~~~