Zheng Han's broken body lay discarded just outside the arena boundary, mangled beyond recognition. His hands, legs, and even his very lineage—gone. His flesh was shredded, blood soaking into the earth, but he still clung faintly to life. Xiao Rui's attacks had been merciless yet impossibly precise; every strike had cut away his pride without taking his life. It was the work of a master executioner—clean, deliberate, controlled.

The disciples of the Jade Phoenix Sect rushed from their seats, pale with fear as they hurried to lift their fellow disciple's ruined body. His screams had long since broken into ragged whimpers, but still his chest rose and fell faintly. They carried him away in shame and silence.

From the stands of the Howling Abyss Sect, Zia Bailey erupted into wild laughter, his voice cutting through the chaos.

"Very good! Hahaha! That bastard deserved this!"

His voice carried across the arena, echoing the fury and bitterness of his sect.

Meanwhile, in the Sanatan Flame Sect's VIP room, Xiao Rui lay back on a thick mattress. His body was battered, every bone aching, his breath shallow. Yet his expression was calm. Shaurya leaned forward in his throne, eyes gleaming with amusement.

"You have almost ninety-six broken bones," Shaurya said with a laugh. "You need rest until your bones repair."

Xiao Rui forced an awkward smile and replied softly, "Yes, Master."

But in his heart, his thoughts rang out with mischievous laughter. Hahaha… whoa. I can rest and enjoy myself until my injuries heal—while everyone else is forced to keep training! Hahahaha…

The referee descended into the arena once more, his voice booming with renewed vigor. "Okay! Now let's continue our remaining battles! The Sanatan Flame Sect needs only two more wins to secure the tournament. Now… let's welcome our next participants!"

From the Jade Phoenix Sect, a swordsman stepped onto the battlefield. His grin was sharp, devilish, eyes burning with cruelty.

From the Sanatan Flame Sect's side, Xiao Lian bowed in front of Shaurya before leaping from the VIP platform. She descended gracefully, her figure light as a feather, landing amidst the dust and broken stone of the ruined battlefield. The ground still bore the scars of Xiao Rui's previous battle—craters, bloodstains, shattered stone.

Xiao Lian stretched her neck, her eyes cold. "I will try to show mercy on you."

The swordsman laughed, his hand gripping his hilt with eagerness. With blinding speed, he rushed forward, his blade flashing. Just as it reached inches before Xiao Lian's abdomen, she flipped into the air, her body twisting gracefully to dodge.

The crowd gasped as her feet touched down lightly.

"Interesting…" the swordsman sneered, his grin widening. He swung his blade again, the steel howling through the air. Xiao Lian backflipped smoothly, evading once more.

He leaped into the air, bringing his sword downward with a savage roar. But Xiao Lian raised her sheathed sword, blocking the strike with a metallic crack. With a burst of strength, she pushed him backward, forcing him to stumble. His eyes widened in shock.

Before he could recover, Xiao Lian appeared in front of him, her leg sweeping into a vicious side kick. He ducked just in time, dodging—only for her to twist midair, spinning fluidly and driving her heel into his face.

Blood spurted from his nose as he reeled backward, stumbling. Xiao Lian didn't stop. She leaped above him, her body twisting downward like a descending hawk, and slammed her heel into the top of his skull.

With a crash, his face smashed into the ground, stone cracking beneath the force.

The audience roared. Xiao Lian stepped back, stretching out her hand in challenge.

The swordsman groaned, pushing himself up. His grin had faded, replaced with frustration. His eyes were bloodshot, his teeth grinding. "I don't care about rules now! I will kill you!"

He charged forward in fury.

Xiao Lian slid her left leg back, her stance sharp. Her left hand rested on the scabbard, her right hand gripping the hilt. Her body bent forward slightly, every muscle coiling like a predator ready to strike. The crowd held their breath—the unmistakable posture of Quick Draw.

She inhaled deeply, her eyes snapping open with a golden glow. Sparks of yellow lightning danced across her frame, snapping and crackling in the air.

With a sharp exhale, her voice rang across the battlefield. "Thunder Slash: Lightning Speed!"

Her body vanished in a blur, the ground exploding beneath her feet. The swordsman barely had time to widen his eyes before she was in front of him.

A blinding flash.

SWOOSH!

Blood sprayed across the air. The crowd gasped as his sword arm was severed in a single clean stroke.

Xiao Lian's blade was already sheathed as she stood behind him, her eyes cold. The swordsman collapsed to his knees, screaming, clutching at the stump.

"You are pathetic," Xiao Lian said, her tone dripping with disdain. "Scum."

From the VIP seats, Shaurya's voice roared. "Stop it, Xiao Lian! Who taught you such bad words? You are underage for these words!"

Xiao Lian froze, stunned. Quickly, she bowed in apology. But then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, fake tears welled up as she cried, "It was Luo Chen and Wang Tian! They taught me!"

The entire arena burst into laughter.

Wang Tian and Luo Chen whipped their heads around in shock. Their faces drained of color.

Shaurya cracked his knuckles slowly, his tone cold. "So… are you ready?"

Both disciples shook their heads desperately. But before they could protest further—Bang! Boom! Bang!—they were already lying sprawled on the ground, their faces swollen from Shaurya's playful fists.

Xiao Lian covered her mouth, biting her tongue as laughter slipped out.

Back in the arena, the swordsman had recovered just enough to roar in anger. He rushed again with his remaining left hand, slashing wildly. Xiao Lian ducked smoothly beneath the swing and countered—her blade flashed upward, severing his wrist cleanly.

Before he could scream, her right fist ignited with a pink aura. She thrust it forward with a roar. "Bizarre Fist!"

Her punch struck his chest with explosive force, sending him flying backward. He soared out of the ring and crashed to the ground.

The referee raised his hand, his voice trembling with excitement. "Xiao Lian of the Sanatan Flame Sect wins Round Two! The Sanatan Flame Sect now leads two to zero! Only one more victory is needed!"

The audience erupted, their cheers shaking the arena.

Xiao Lian returned gracefully to the VIP room, only to find Wang Tian and Luo Chen lying on the floor, their faces swollen like melons. Shaurya sat calmly on his throne, while Elder Cheng Fang struggled to hide his laughter.

Xiao Lian giggled, but when Wang Tian and Luo Chen glared at her, she quickly lowered her head, speaking in a small, guilty voice. "Seniors… I'm sorry. Because of me, Master had to punish you. Please don't scold me…"

Wang Tian and Luo Chen stiffened, startled. Shaurya's cold gaze shifted toward them.

"Now you're scaring her," Shaurya said flatly.

Both men leaped back in fear, then quickly bowed. "Little sister Xiao Lian, we are sorry!"

Xiao Lian smirked faintly before replying sweetly, "Don't worry, Seniors. I don't blame you."

The elders of the Sanatan Flame Sect roared with laughter.

The next battle began as Cheng Fang leapt into the arena. His opponent emerged—an eight-foot-tall bulky man with a frame like a bear.

Cheng Fang blinked, tilting his head. "Are you serious? I'm fighting this? What is this, a bear?"

The giant roared, clenching his massive fist and charging forward. "What did you say?!" His fist came crashing down like a hammer.

But Cheng Fang caught it effortlessly. Shockwaves rippled outward, rattling the stands.

With a grin, Cheng Fang struck back with his own fist, slamming into the man's abdomen. The air cracked with impact. "It's over!"

His violet aura surged, coating his arm. "Mountain Breaking Fist!"

His punch struck upward with devastating force, blasting the giant out of the ring. The man's massive body smashed into the protective barrier around the crowd, shattering the energy shield.

The audience erupted, their cheers shaking the kingdom itself. Across cities and villages, spectators watching the magical streams roared in unison.

The referee ascended high into the air, shouting with passion. "It's over! The Sanatan Flame Sect has won the finals with three straight victories—three to zero!"

The crowd went wild. The stadium shook like thunder.

But then—Shaurya's voice cut through the noise like a blade. "Stop it…"

The arena fell into stunned silence. Not a sound remained.

Shaurya leaned back and laughed. "Two rounds are still left! I have an offer. Let's complete the remaining two rounds in a single match—a tag team battle!"

The audience gasped in shock.

Shaurya's voice boomed. "If the Jade Phoenix Sect defeats us in this tag team battle, we will accept defeat! They may use whatever they wish. No rules. We will not kill their disciples. But they—" his smile widened—"they don't have to follow any rules at all."

Liu Xiang's eyes widened in disbelief.

Shaurya turned toward the royal box. "I hope King Tian Long has no objection?"

The king laughed heartily. "No objection! I allow it!"

Liu Xiang clenched his fists, then slowly grinned. "Fine. But if you lose, don't cry."

Shaurya smirked. "Oh, don't worry. We'll see who cries." He closed his eyes, his voice steady. "Boys. Are you ready?"

From the floor, Wang Tian and Luo Chen stood. Fury burned in their eyes.

Luo Chen smirked. "Are you ready, bro?" He raised his fist.

Wang Tian cracked his knuckles, a grin spreading across his face. "I was born ready."

They fist-bumped, then leapt into the battlefield, their auras flaring.

Lin Shu leaned toward Shaurya, whispering with a smile, "You did this to humiliate their sect more, right?"

Shaurya raised a thumb, grinning. "Absolutely right. Liu Xiang has no idea who he just agreed to face. Even if his whole sect fought, it wouldn't be enough."

The Jade Phoenix Sect sent out their last hope—a muscular man wielding a massive hammer and a slim red-haired fighter wielding twin daggers.

The muscular one sneered. "Your luck is very bad. I am the third-strongest in my sect!"

The red-haired fighter laughed. "And I am the fourth! Your sect leader is a fool for sending you out!" He spat on the ground, grinding his foot into the dirt.

Wang Tian and Luo Chen's expressions twisted in rage.

"How dare you disrespect Master," Luo Chen growled.

"Now you face double anger," Wang Tian cracked his knuckles.

The two opponents laughed, charging forward. "We'll crush you!"

But Wang Tian and Luo Chen were already in motion. Purple aura flared around Wang Tian's right fist, blue aura around Luo Chen's left.

As the two Jade Phoenix disciples rushed in, Wang Tian and Luo Chen roared together, their fists surging forward in unison.

"Spiritual Gun!"

Two beams of aura—one purple, one blue—blasted forth like cannons, striking their opponents square in the abdomen.

BOOM!

Blood sprayed from their mouths as they were hurled backward, their bodies crashing out of the arena like rag dolls.

The crowd froze, jaws dropping in shock.

Then, with perfect timing, Wang Tian and Luo Chen high-fived. "Mission done."

The audience erupted, the stadium trembling with deafening cheers.

Shaurya rose to his feet, his voice thunderous. "Now scream and cheer with all your power!"

The referee roared above the crowd. "The Sanatan Flame Sect has won the Sect-Clan Tournament!"

The stadium shook as the audience erupted again, the sound carrying across the kingdom. Everywhere, from the capital to the smallest village, cheers rang out.

In the VIP box, Liu Xiang collapsed into his throne, his face darkened with humiliation.

King Tian Long laughed loudly, rising from his royal seat. He stepped into the arena, Li Dong following at his side. The referee descended with him, voice ringing clear.

King Tian Long raised his hand. "I, Tian Long, King of this kingdom, congratulate my friend Shaurya, the Sect Leader of the Sanatan Flame Sect, and his brave disciples, for winning the first edition of the Sect-Clan Tournament!"

Shaurya exhaled, his smirk fading into a proud sigh. He glanced toward Lin Shu. She nodded firmly. Then he turned to his elders, his grin returning.

Xiao Rui, still lying on his mattress, raised his fist weakly. Xiao Lian hugged him tightly. Cheng Fang threw both arms wide in celebration.

Wang Tian and Luo Chen stood shoulder to shoulder with Elder Jian, the three roaring together in triumph. Elder Wu crossed his arms, smiling proudly. Feng Yu, his swords crossed behind his back, smirked faintly. Elder Liya and Elder Wan clasped each other's shoulders and fist-bumped. Lin Shu raised a thumb in satisfaction.

And Shaurya—he leapt from his throne, raising his arm high with boyish excitement. "Yeahhhh! We won!"

The stadium's cheer shook the heavens. The air itself trembled with joy.

The four-day tournament had finally reached its end. The Sanatan Flame Sect, with a mix of ease, struggle, and overwhelming power—stood victorious.

To be continued…

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