The first strike came like thunder splitting the dawn.

Lu Cheng's blade swept out in a silver arc, his qi surging so violently that the mirror-like floor trembled underfoot. The reflected sky above shattered into ripples, and the disciples in the stands gasped as the sheer pressure of his strike rolled across the arena like a tidal wave.

Tian Lei didn't flinch. His body moved with calm precision, weight shifting at the very last instant. His foot pressed lightly against the jade surface— tap!—and his figure blurred just out of reach. The blade tore past, carving a line of gleaming light across the floor where he had stood.

"Fast!" someone shouted from the crowd.

"But Lu Cheng didn't even use a tenth of his strength yet!" another retorted.

The mirror floor pulsed in response to their clash, projecting illusions of mountains rising and rivers surging around them. Every intent, every ounce of killing will manifested upon the arena's surface.

Lu Cheng spun, his stance rooted, blade raised high. "Good reflexes. But dodging will not save you."

He struck again, qi compressing into the edge—this time a focused strike, sharper, heavier.

Tian Lei's eyes flashed. His soul sense flared outward, every ripple of Lu Cheng's qi laid bare to him like lines on a scroll. Instead of retreating, he stepped into the pressure, his palm striking forward with open force.

BOOOOM!

Palm and blade clashed. Shockwaves rippled outward, distorting the mirrored world around them. Tian Lei was driven back three steps, the floor beneath his heels cracking like spiderwebs—but he did not fall.

The crowd erupted.

"He blocked it? At Spirit Master 3rd stage?!"

"Impossible!"

On the dais, Mu Jian's brows lifted ever so slightly, a glint of surprise beneath his composed exterior. Haiyun chuckled, the sound low and smug, stroking his beard as if he had already expected this.

Lu Cheng's gaze sharpened. For the first time, his expression carried weight—not disdain, but focus. "Not bad. You really do have some fire."

Tian Lei exhaled slowly, steadying his stance. His hand tingled from the force, but his eyes never left Lu Cheng's. "Didn't I say? Test me."

The air thickened with qi. The arena shimmered brighter, the illusory rivers turning into crashing waves around them.

The waves surged higher, cresting into walls of water that threatened to drown the mirrored arena. The disciples gasped as the illusions grew so vivid that they could feel mist spraying against their faces.

Lu Cheng's qi surged again, his figure blurring as he vanished into the storm of water and steel. A streak of light cut through the crashing tide—his blade descending like lightning aimed straight for Tian Lei's crown.

CLAAANG!

At the last instant, Tian Lei's arm snapped up, forearm meeting blade with a ringing clash. His knees bent under the weight, jade cracking beneath him. But instead of breaking, he twisted his body, redirecting the strike past him, the edge grazing his shoulder and tearing fabric—but not flesh.

The disciples roared in disbelief.

"He turned aside Senior Brother Lu Cheng's full-speed cut?!"

"No… it's his soul sense. He's reading every strike!"

Indeed, Tian Lei's eyes gleamed with clarity, every thread of qi in Lu Cheng's movement traced before the blow even landed.

Lu Cheng's lips curved in the faintest smile. "Interesting. Then let's see how long you can keep up."

He moved again, faster, his blade weaving arcs that blurred into rivers of light. Each stroke birthed an illusion—mountains collapsing, storms raging, beasts roaring from the reflection itself.

Tian Lei flowed among them, his steps light, his body bending just enough to let death brush past without claiming him. Every counter he made was precise—palms striking, fingers redirecting, qi sparking against steel.

But the gap in cultivation was real. With each clash, his arms numbed, his breath grew heavier. Lu Cheng pressed harder, blade screaming as it tore the mirrored world apart.

Finally— BOOOOM!—a strike crashed through Tian Lei's guard. His body was hurled backward, skidding across the arena, the mirrored surface shattering in ripples beneath him. Blood welled at the corner of his lip.

Gasps erupted. Some disciples shook their heads.

"It's over… the difference is too great."

"No one below Grandmaster could withstand that much pressure!"

Up above, Mu Jian leaned forward slightly, his eyes sharp. Haiyun, however, smirked, as if waiting for something.

Tian Lei wiped the blood with the back of his hand and stood again, straightening slowly. His chest rose and fell, but his eyes burned brighter than before.

He whispered, voice low but clear enough to carry through the arena:

"Not enough to make me bow."

The Mirror Jade Arena trembled, as if stirred by those words. The rivers surged higher, the light fracturing into countless shards that whirled around him like stars.

And for the first time, Lu Cheng's grip on his blade tightened.

Haiyun's smirk shifted into something more like admiration as he watched Lu Cheng. "That boy's sword isn't normal. To cut storms into being, to push with such force… he's impressive. Few at his stage could release power like that."

Mu Jian's lips curled, his tone caught between respect and unease. "If my best disciple, already brushing the peak of Spirit Lord, can fight evenly with most Spirit Elders… then what do we call Tian Lei? He's only at the third stage of Spirit Master, yet he's standing against strength equal to a Peak Spirit Lord. Tell me, Haiyun—where did my mischievous daughter find such talent?"

Haiyun chuckled, shaking his head. "She didn't find him. I did."

Mu Jian's brows furrowed. "You did?"

Haiyun's eyes narrowed as he leaned back. "Yes. It was during my travels, years ago. A chance meeting… though even then, he was different. He was running away from a sect that had killed his lover and imprisoned him. I offered him protection, and later he was able to resist Mu Qinxue's divine body, so he became her disciple."

"Which sect killed his lover and imprisoned him?" Mu Jian asked.

Haiyun's reply was sharp. "It wasn't just that. A grandson of the Grand Elder there raped her… and then killed her."

At those words, Mu Jian's expression turned dark, his voice low and dangerous. "Was it a demonic sect?"

"Heavenly Sword Sect," Haiyun said.

Mu Jian's expression sharpened. "Heavenly Sword Sect? But that's an orthodox sect. How can they do such a thing?"

"Well, given my daughter's temper, I think that sect exists no more," Haiyun replied with a faint smile. "She offered to deal with it, but Tian Lei said he wanted to do it himself."

Mu Jian nodded grimly.

Exhaling slowly, his tone grew colder. "Such sects… they are the reason why the orthodox path is looked down upon. Arrogance, corruption, hidden knives in the dark."

Haiyun gave a wry smile. "There will always be bad apples in a basket of good ones. With hundreds of thousands of disciples across the land, it is impossible to avoid. All we can do is pick them out when they rot."

Mu Jian's eyes softened slightly, though his jaw remained tense. "You are right. Still, it doesn't make it any less bitter to swallow for the victim."

Their words faded as their gazes returned to the arena—where Tian Lei and Lu Cheng were clashing once more, their figures blurring amidst waves of shattered qi.

The mirrored floor cracked again, ripples of light scattering upward as though the sky itself was breaking. Disciples in the stands leaned forward, wide-eyed, unable to blink.

"Senior Brother Lu Cheng is serious now!" someone shouted.

"No—look closer!" another cut in. "Tian Lei… he's not falling back!"

At the heart of the storm, Tian Lei's qi burned brighter, each step striking with the weight of mountains. Lu Cheng's blade tore rivers of light through the air, yet each one was met, redirected, or dissolved as though Tian Lei had walked this battle a thousand times already.

And then—BOOOOM!—both forces collided in a flash of blinding brilliance, shaking the entire Mirror Jade Arena to its foundations.

The blinding light swallowed the arena, forcing even the elders to shield their eyes. When it cleared, the mirrored floor lay fractured, shards of jade glimmering like fallen stars.

At the center, both figures still stood—Tian Lei with blood streaking his cheek, Lu Cheng with his blade trembling faintly in his grip.

A stunned silence rippled through the crowd.

"He's… still standing," one disciple whispered.

"Impossible. No one at Spirit Master third stage should survive that clash!"

Lu Cheng's chest heaved as he steadied his breath, eyes locked on Tian Lei. For the first time, sweat traced down his temple. Then, a low laugh slipped past his lips. "You're powerful, Tian Lei… but I can see it. You're not done yet."

Tian Lei wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. His voice was steady, his gaze unwavering. "Neither are you. This is the first time I've actually enjoyed a fight like this."

Lu Cheng's brows rose, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "The same for me."

Their eyes locked, not as enemies but as warriors who had found a worthy challenge. The shattered arena seemed to hum under their shared will, as if urging them onward.

And then, as one, they reset their stances and surged toward each other again.

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