Many in the arena feared this man.
But his love for his daughter? That, at least, they could tease.
Back on the field.
The tension in the arena had become something else.
No more cheering.
No more betting slips.
Just silence.
A sacred kind of anticipation.
Then Elder Hualin's voice returned. "Core Disciples. You know the rules. No killing. No artifacts above Grade Three. No outside aid. Fight with honour. Fight with your dreams."
The matches began.
And the coliseum became a temple of war.
The fights dawned with a hush that was louder than any cheer.
The crowd that once jeered and laughed at the flailing chaos of the outer and inner disciples was now seated in solemn anticipation.
They had feasted on the appetizers, the desperate scrambles, the pride-fuelled duels, the flair of raw talent. But today…
Today was the main course.
The Thirty-Two core disciples. Some of these monsters were on a par with the most respected elders of the sect.
The strongest disciples of the Moonlight Sect.
Their names alone could quiet entire taverns and send beasts scurrying into their dens. Many had seen them train from afar, some lucky few had watched them fight.
But very few had ever witnessed them go all out, especially not like this, where only one would be crowned the festival's champion.
Even the very air knew to stay still.
The arenas had been reinforced thrice over with arrays etched in blood and rare stone.
Great elder formations pulsed faintly beneath the stage, prepared to restrain whatever might spill from these overwhelming cultivators.
From a wide balcony layered with translucent spirit-glass, Adrien Cortez stood shoulder to shoulder with hundreds of fellow disciples, most of them deathly quiet.
Even the troublemakers had no energy to cause mischief. Adrien's gaze was locked on the main stage.
There, Selyra walked to the centre of the first platform, draped in her standard pale gray robes that shimmered faintly with runes only visible under spiritual sense.
Her silvery hair danced with the light wind. She didn't look at the crowd. She didn't need to.
To her right, a disciple Adrien didn't recognize, a broad-shouldered youth named Garen, stepped forward.
His arms were wrapped in chains of black steel, spiritual weight causing the stones beneath him to crack with each step.
The bell chimed.
Ganren roared forward, his chains flying like vipers—
—and Selyra moved.
Or rather, she wasn't there.
Her palm struck from behind his guard, tapping his lower spine. A flare of light erupted from the contact point, and Ganren crumpled to the floor without a sound, eyes rolled back, limbs limp.
Silence.
Then uproarious screams.
Wowwww!!!!
The first match was over in less than three seconds.
The next few fights went on with far more struggle.
Core Disciple Lin Mei battled Jian Ren in a duel of speed and sword aura. Their blades clashed so fast that onlookers could only see the bursts of wind and the afterimages they left behind.
Jian Ren summoned a spectral tiger to strike from above. Lin Mei responded with a weaving strike that bent like moonlight, and severed the spectral beast in two.
Her footwork dazzled, her breathing never faltered. In the end, her sword pierced Ren's shoulder and forced him to yield.
Another match saw two earth-aether type cultivators, brute-force versus refined manipulation. Boulders shattered midair.
Earthen walls rose and crumbled under spike barrages. One cultivator roared and leapt with fists coated in obsidian force, but the other sealed his footing with a sudden quagmire, and a pillar of stone shot through the sky, launching him from the arena.
Match after match, the strength on display was nothing short of terrifying. And yet…
None of them were Ilyra.
When her name was called, a hush fell again.
Even the elders in the sky balconies leaned forward.
Adrien watched as Ilyra glided to the stage.
Her opponent, a spear-wielding prodigy named Ko Van, was already waiting. His aura surged, lighting the arena in arcs of radiant crimson.
"I've waited to face you," he said.
Ilyra didn't reply.
She simply lifted her hand. Her fingers glowed with soft violet light, dream essence, Adrien realized. Tier 4 Dream Core.
Ko Van charged with a shriek.
The moment he did, the entire platform warped. Adrien blinked. For a second, he saw something impossible.
Ko Van was falling… upward?
Then he crashed to the ground—no, the ceiling? The spatial orientation twisted again. Ko Van stumbled. Ilyra appeared behind him in a ripple of silver dreamflame and placed a finger on his nape.
The fight ended there.
Even Selyra turned to watch, eyes narrowing slightly.
Adrien exhaled sharply. His heart raced.
What was that?
That hadn't been simple illusion, she had altered his perception and orientation using her dream essence.
Ko Van had fallen unconscious before he could even realize where he was.
More fights followed.
The final sixteen.
Each one longer, bloodier.
The gaps between core disciples were not wide enough to allow one-sided domination, not for most. Fists broke bones.
Sword aether tore robes, spilled blood. Formations flared to block deathblows, and more than one disciple left the stage on a stretcher. Adrien watched it all.
And with each fight, he grew more aware of the path ahead.
He remembered sparring with Selyra. How she had toyed with him like a cub. Now… thirty others stood at her level or near it. And Adrien, then, with his then Tier 1 Dream Core, now, two had barely begun to climb.
He looked at his hands.
They didn't shake.
Not out of fear. But anticipation.
High above, in the VIP balconies, laughter rang.
"Ilyraaa! MY ILYRA!!!" cried a man with flowing silver robes and long golden hair. His voice boomed across the arena like thunder.
Several other high elders groaned softly. One facepalmed.
"Again?" one muttered.
"Let him be," said another, chuckling. "He is her father, and no one's strong enough to stop him anyway."
The woman seated beside the loud man only smiled, an elegant and refined expression resting on her lips.
Her green eyes shimmered with pride as she watched her daughter dominate. She said nothing, but her affection was evident.
"Ilyraaa!" her husband roared again, sobbing into his sleeve. "So elegant! So cruel! Just like her mother!"
Someone sighed. "Please kill me."
And then, it was time for the quarterfinals.
Only eight remained.
Selyra faced a water-element cultivator named Mei'lan whose liquid whips could cut through steel. She barely lasted twenty seconds.
The moment she tried to lock Selyra's feet with ice, the moonlight disciple turned into a blur and appeared directly beside her.
One palm strike.
Two ribs shattered.
She flew off the stage like a ragdoll.
Ilyra's match was next.
This time against a disciple known for spiritual illusions.
He tried to trap her in a field of mirrored space, thousands of his copies surrounding her. Adrien could sense the power behind it. The illusion was real enough to confuse even high-tier cultivators.
But Ilyra's essence simply ate the illusion.
Devoured it, chewed through its scaffolding, and left her standing in a void where only she and her opponent remained.
Her next attack wasn't flashy.
Just a gentle beckon with her hand.
Her opponent screamed, clutching his head, and dropped to his knees.
"No more," he gasped. "No more."
The semifinals loomed.
Only four.
The crowd were getting treated. and their fervent screams showed it. This festival's tournament was absolute peak.
They all felt their emotions being pulled in different directions, like a guitar strings. And the disciples were the guitarists.
It was absolutely exhilarating. The bets that were placed went forgotten, completely.
All everyone wanted was to watch this absolute thriller of a fight that was coming up.
Adrien felt the sect's energy shift again. Now the elders were silent too. Bets were no longer being placed. Everyone knew what was coming.
The two monsters, on opposite sides of the bracket, had yet to be touched.
Selyra's last opponent forfeited before the bell.
Ilyra's opponent launched his most powerful move, a domain of burning stars.
Only to watch helplessly as they fell around her like fireflies, her dream aura softening the laws of reality within his own technique.
Soon… there would be only two.
Two monsters.
Two legacies.
Two women whose presences could suffocate cities and freeze lesser disciples in place.
Selyra.
Ilyra.
And Adrien Cortez, heart pounding, eyes blazing, was there to witness it all.
The fevered excitement of a crowd awaiting sport, but a subdued, almost reverent hush. As though the heavens themselves had paused to watch.
The Moonlight Festival had reached its final act.
The skies were clear, save for thin wisps of clouds drifting lazily past the twin moons above. On the floating arena suspended over the Heartlake Amphitheatre, the barrier dome shimmered to life once again.
This was not the same tranquil glow from before, it pulsed now, resonating with the weight of power soon to be unleashed.
The final match.
From opposite ends of the stage, two figures stepped into the light. Two shining stars, and a whole host of people staring towards these stars.