On the day of the finals, the sky over Wanxian City brightened a bit earlier than in the previous days.
As the morning light crept up from the eastern side of the city walls, the entire city was still shrouded in a thin layer of mist.
On the stone spectator stands surrounding the martial arts field, banners of various colors hung limply in the windless air, occasionally lifted at the corners by a passing draft before quickly settling back down.
The footsteps of the spectators entering one after another echoed across the stone steps for a while, and even those who were usually casual about watching the matches took their seats early.
There was little other sound in the air, only the rustling of fabric and the soft scuffing of shoe soles against the blue stone ground. Occasionally, someone would murmur a few words in a lowered voice, only to fall quiet again quickly.
The open space in front of the main stage had already been cleared. Spiritual light array pillars stood at the four corners, the traces of spiritual energy flowing along the edges more pronounced than in previous days.
The blue stone surface of the arena had been washed over with spiritual energy, giving it a clean, polished luster.
As the sunlight shifted over the eastern stands, the figures at the edges began to turn aside to avoid the glare.
When Lin Zhiyue emerged from the entrance tunnel, the sunlight fell right across her shoulder. She stood at the edge of the arena and glanced opposite her—Song Mu had already arrived.
His figure was sharply defined in the morning light. His belt was bound tighter than usual, and the straps of his scabbard had been readjusted so that their hanging length was perfectly level with his cuffs.
The two locked eyes across the distance of the arena for a brief moment, then nodded slightly toward the referee before stepping onto the stage together.
In the stands, Qi Yan sat in his seat, while Cen Xi'er sat in the Tiance Palace disciple section, with Chu Zhixun and Xiao Yuan beside her, and Jiang Yuezhan sitting in the row behind them.
Lin Zhiyue stood in the center of the arena, looking up at Song Mu.
With a wave of her hand, her originally plain dress was replaced by the crimson battle robe, Flowing Fire and Scarlet Stars. The flowing fire patterns embroidered on the hem seemed to come alive, shimmering with faint sparks of fire, creating a striking contrast with the lingering frost aura around her.
Lin Zhiyue tapped her toes lightly. Instead of rushing into a heavy offensive, she utilized the agility and lightness of her wind spiritual root to glide across the arena like a falling leaf.
Her footwork seemed casual, yet she always managed to evade her opponent's sharp attacks in the nick of time. As her sleeves fluttered, a gentle breeze faintly circulated around her, neutralizing her opponent's onslaughts time and again.
Unable to land a blow for a long time, Song Mu's moves grew increasingly fierce, and flaws naturally began to show.
Lin Zhiyue's gaze focused slightly, a cold glint flashing in her eyes. No longer evading, she raised her delicate hand, condensing a wisp of pale blue spiritual energy at her fingertips.
“Condense.”
With a soft cry, the spiritual energy at her fingertips instantly transformed into a sharp ice prism. Carrying a bone-chilling cold, it shot straight toward her opponent's right wrist, which held his weapon.
The ice prism moved incredibly fast, leaving a faint blue afterimage in the air, the whistling wind it kicked up seeming to freeze in its wake.
Song Mu immediately pulled back to defend, but he was ultimately half a beat too slow.
The ice prism grazed past his wrist. Though it did not damage bone or tendon, the piercing chill instantly spread, causing his movements to stiffen for a split second.
Lin Zhiyue gave her opponent no breathing room. Closing in like a phantom, she did not employ any flashy spells. Instead, she merely pressed her fingers together like a sword, thin frost swirling around her fingertips, as she thrust precisely at the opening in her opponent's transition between moves.
This strike was fast, precise, and ruthless—using the wind for speed, and ice as her blade.
Song Mu felt a freezing sword qi already at his chest. With no way to dodge, he could only awkwardly bring his sword across to block.
Clang!
With a crisp metallic clash, Song Mu was jarred back several steps, his hand numbed by the impact.
Lin Zhiyue withdrew her hand and stood still. The frost on her fingertips slowly dissipated, her breathing remaining perfectly steady, as if the fierce assault just now had been effortless.
Song Mu's pupils contracted slightly as he felt an unprecedented sense of pressure.
He hesitated no longer. Lightning erupted from his palm as violent thunderous power instantly triggered a celestial phenomenon, transforming into a roaring thunder dragon that surged toward Lin Zhiyue with world-destroying force.
Facing the thunder dragon that was powerful enough to tear through the void, Lin Zhiyue tapped her toes and darted away like lightning to dodge. This was Song Mu's signature technique—Nine Absolute Thunder Roars.
The thunder dragon grazed the edge of her robe time and again, yet Lin Zhiyue was not flustered in the slightest.
“The explosive power of a Lightning Spiritual Root is indeed astonishing,” Lin Zhiyue said coldly as she dodged, her voice remaining clear despite the rumbling thunder. “But this heat is perfect for me to utilize.”
Her hands formed hand seals, and the patterns on Flowing Fire and Scarlet Stars suddenly lit up. A wave of blazing spiritual energy erupted, transforming into a sky full of drifting crimson clouds—the Flowing Cloud Formula.
This Flowing Cloud Formula was not an offensive technique, but rather a cage Lin Zhiyue had specifically prepared for Song Mu.
Song Mu controlled the thunder dragon, attempting to break through the encirclement, only to find the Flowing Cloud Formula clinging to it like a shadow.
The lightning power he was so proud of was not only unable to detonate under the wrap of the Flowing Cloud Formula, but was instead ignited by the intense heat, turning into fuel that nourished the flames.
“You...” Song Mu's face turned pale. His Lightning Spiritual Root had actually become her stepping stone. He desperately channeled his spiritual energy, but felt his power being drained away bit by bit.
Lin Zhiyue walked slowly over to Song Mu, who was completely suppressed by the Flowing Cloud Formula and unable to move.
She looked down at the number one genius of the Sanglan Realm, her eyes completely devoid of emotion.
“Song Mu,” she whispered, leaning down slightly. Her voice was so quiet she might have been merely stating a fact, yet every word cut to the quick. “You are indeed a genius, but genius is merely the threshold to meet me.”
Song Mu stood in the center of the arena as the residual power of the Nine Absolute Thunder Roars slowly receded at the tip of his sword.
He had lost.
As he sheathed his sword, he looked down at his fingertips. The residual warmth of the Flowing Fire Formula burning in reverse still lingered on his fingertips, a stinging sensation like being grazed by something incredibly fine.
This was not his first defeat, and he had lost to those with higher cultivations before. In those moments of loss, he had always known exactly where his opponents had bested him—their spiritual energy was deeper, their movement techniques faster, or their cultivation methods more refined.
But this time, he clearly felt that what beat him was not spiritual energy, nor was it a cultivation technique. It was Lin Zhiyue's mind.
The landing point of every single lightning arc from the Nine Absolute Thunder Roars had been cut off by her half a step in advance.
She avoided his strongest frontal attacks, cutting in, retreating, and cutting in again through the gaps between the flashes of lightning. Each time, she positioned herself exactly at the angle where it was hardest for him to exert force with his sword.
Using the explosive power and heat of the lightning as a guide, she took advantage of the momentum to generate fire. While thinning his spiritual energy, she also expanded the reach of her own technique outward.
Wherever the lightning fell, fire would rise right after it.
It wasn't that he had never encountered opponents who used strategies, but their tactics were like playing chess—taking one step and calculating the next.
Lin Zhiyue's style of fighting was like dismantling the chessboard. She would first look at the entire game, find the single thread that could affect the whole situation, and completely dismantle it before stopping.
Song Mu knew that feeling of being suppressed. It was not just his cultivation being suppressed, but his judgment as well.
She did not need to make any extra moves, nor did she need to show off her skills. She only needed to stay one step ahead of his judgment, ensuring his follow-ups would always miss.
As Song Mu walked down from the arena, he paused for a step on the stairs.
He recalled the words Lin Zhiyue had spoken—Genius is merely the threshold to meet me.
Now, he had confirmed that she had simply been stating a fact.
He hung his sword back at his waist. As he walked past the Qingling Sect seats, he did not look back, nor did he show any extra emotion.
Rate on N.U.
