The arena's atmosphere was electric. Every seat, every ledge, every conceivable vantage point was filled with cultivators and spectators alike, their eyes riveted to the stage. The weight of thousands of gazes bore down on Feng Shan as he stepped forward, his sword gleaming against the sunlight. Across from him, Zhou Keqian's disciple, Wei Xu, moved into position with an almost regal confidence, his robes embroidered with flames that seemed to flicker as he moved.
Wei Xu was no ordinary opponent. Among Zhou Keqian's disciples, he was a rising star, renowned for his mastery over fire-based techniques. Sparks of heat already danced subtly around his figure, distorting the air with their intensity.
The tension in the arena crackled like a storm about to break. Feng Shan tightened his grip on his sword. His palms were slick with sweat, but his resolve was firm. He couldn't afford doubt—not here, not now.
"Begin!" the herald's voice rang out, signaling the start of the battle.
Wei Xu wasted no time, thrusting his palms forward as flames burst to life. A roaring wave of fire surged across the arena floor, searing toward Feng Shan with terrifying speed. His first instinct was to dodge, leaping sideways with practiced ease, but the heat still singed his robes as the attack blasted past him.
Wei Xu chuckled, his voice low but carrying across the arena amidst the fading roar of flames. "Running already, Earth Division? Maybe your teacher's chaos isn't all it's cracked up to be."
Feng Shan didn't reply. He steadied his breathing, sliding into a defensive stance. The battle had only just begun, but Wei Xu's control over his element was undeniable. The fire he summoned didn't erupt chaotically; it flowed with precision, each flicker seemingly calculated to pressure and overwhelm.
Wei Xu raised his hand skyward, and several orbs of flame began forming around him, spinning in a slow, ominous orbit. With a flick of his wrist, he launched them one by one, each streaking toward Feng Shan like meteors. darted and weaved, narrowly dodging one orb, swatting another aside with a quick swipe of his sword. He'd avoided a direct hit, but the heat sapped his stamina with every passing second.
And he was on the back foot. Every movement, every counter, felt like mere survival, not strategy. An ache began to spread in his chest—a familiar, bitter whisper of self-doubt. You're not strong enough. You'll fail.
Flames licked at the edge of his vision as Wei Xu closed in, his sword now drawn and dancing with fire. Their blades clashed, sparks flying, but the force behind Wei Xu's strikes was immense, hammering Feng Shan's guard again and again. The crowd roared as he stumbled back, his stance faltering.
Wei Xu smirked, his voice almost mocking. "Is this the best the Earth Division has to offer? Tell your teacher to stick to fixing broken tools."
The jeers echoing in Feng Shan's ears sharpened the edges of his frustration. He gritted his teeth, forcing the noise out. Focus, he told himself. This isn't about them—it's about what I can do. What teacher taught us.
He darted backward, forcing a pause in the relentless exchange. Wei Xu didn't rush to close the distance, instead launching another wall of flames to keep the pressure high. It gave Feng Shan a moment to regroup, to center himself.
"You fight fire on its terms, and you'll burn," Li Tian's voice echoed in his mind, a lesson from weeks ago. "Don't meet power head-on. Redirect it. Control it in unexpected ways."
Redirect it. Feng Shan's eyes flickered toward the scorch marks littering the arena floor where Wei Xu's flames had struck. The ground seemed cracked, uneven—and something clicked in his mind. His jaw tightened as an idea began forming. It was risky, and one mistake could cost him the duel, but he had no other choice.
Wei Xu advanced again, flames coiling around his sword, ready to strike. Feng Shan adjusted his stance, lowering his center, feigning another defensive retreat. The moment Wei Xu lunged forward, Feng Shan moved—not away, but toward the flames themselves.
The crowd gasped as Wei Xu's fire lashed out, but Feng Shan spun sharply, sweeping his blade in a low arc against the battle-scarred ground. His movement sent up a sudden cloud of dirt and ash, blinding Wei Xu.
"What—?" Wei Xu growled, stumbling back as he shielded his eyes.
But Feng Shan wasn't finished. Using the momentum of his spin, he surged forward, the dirt cloud masking his approach. His blade struck Wei Xu's flaming sword head-on, not to overpower but to shift. With a deft twist, Feng Shan redirected the strike, sending Wei Xu staggering to maintain balance.
The exchange earned murmurs from the crowd, their interest piqued.
Wei Xu's face twisted in frustration. "Tricks," he spat, rekindling his fire with a roar. He sent another wave of flame hurtling forward, larger and more aggressive this time. But Feng Shan, now calmer, didn't falter. Instead of retreating, he darted sideways, the wall of flame missing him by inches as he circled closer.
He repeated the tactic again—kick up dust, disrupt the opponent's vision, and redirect their overwhelming power. Slowly but surely, Feng Shan began forcing Wei Xu onto the defensive. The fiery onslaught lost its edge as Wei Xu's irritation grew.
The decisive moment came when Wei Xu, desperate to regain the upper hand, summoned a massive pillar of fire, directing it straight toward Feng Shan. Instead of dodging, Feng Shan surged through the flames just as they began to falter, exploiting the split-second gap between attacks.
His sword whirled upward, colliding against Wei Xu's weapon and shoving it aside. Before Wei Xu could recover, the flat of Feng Shan's blade swept across his opponent's wrist, sending his sword clattering to the ground.
The crowd erupted into cheers and scattered gasps as Feng Shan leveled his blade inches from Wei Xu's chest, his face calm but resolute.
Wei Xu froze, his lips pressed in a thin line. When the referee declared Feng Shan the victor, the smoldering resentment in Wei Xu's eyes told Feng Shan all he needed to know—respect, begrudging but earned.
Cheers and murmurs swelled through the arena as Feng Shan stepped back, lowering his blade and bowing toward Wei Xu. He turned then, scanning the stands, and found his teacher's steady gaze.
Li Tian's slight nod carried no extravagance, no fanfare, but its meaning was clear.
When Feng Shan returned to his team, the weight in his chest had lifted. The doubts he had carried for so long now seemed insignificant, burned away in the fire of battle.
He wasn't just stronger—he was ready for whatever came next.