The moment the arena's formation lit fully,
all sound in the grounds
was severed as if by an invisible blade.
Light flowed from the cracks in the stone surface,
circling the platform again and again
before weaving into a faint barrier overhead.
Wind vanished.
Noise vanished.
Even breathing felt half a beat slower.
The life‑and‑death arena
had taken shape.
Cáo Jiànyú stood on one side,
his chest rising and falling sharply.
His eyes locked onto the figure opposite him—
as if afraid that if he blinked,
his chance would slip through his fingers.
He could hear his own heartbeat.
Fast.
Heavy.
Not fear—
but the frantic agitation
of someone cornered
with nowhere left to retreat.
Across from him,
Xuán Chén stood steady.
His feet rested on the stone surface,
not at the center,
but slightly off to the side—
a position that looked casual,
yet happened to seal off
every viable angle of attack.
His aura was restrained,
not a hint of force leaking out.
He looked calm—too calm.
And that calmness
was what unsettled people the most.
Cáo Jiànyú's gaze lingered on him,
and irritation surged up his chest.
Too composed.
Too quiet.
Too unlike someone standing on a life‑and‑death stage.
He clenched his teeth
and quietly circulated his qi.
The energy flowed through his meridians smoothly—
slow, controlled,
deliberately suppressed.
He knew he could not start at full strength.
If he revealed too much too early,
he would have no room left to maneuver.
Xuán Chén, of course,
noticed the probing.
His gaze swept over Cáo Jiànyú—
not lingering on any single point,
but taking in everything at once:
stance, breathing, center of gravity,
the direction of qi flow.
Every detail
told him the same thing.
His opponent
was not as simple
as he appeared.
Xuán Chén made no sound,
no move to attack.
He merely shifted his footing slightly—
as if adjusting to the texture of the arena floor.
A tiny motion.
Yet on the northern judges' platform,
several pairs of eyes caught it instantly.
Gǔ Líng stood at the front,
his gaze calm and unreadable.
He could tell—
this wasn't nervousness,
nor hesitation.
It was the instinctive preparation
of someone who had truly faced life and death.
Beside him, Xuānyuán Dié's brows moved ever so slightly.
She wasn't looking at Xuán Chén's face,
but at his shoulders and spine.
Too steady.
Far too steady
for someone who had only just reached Meridian‑Mark Completion.
On the other side,
the White Lion remained seated,
eyes half‑closed,
breath deep and heavy—
as if none of this concerned him.
But anyone who could see into his eyes
would notice that his earlier indifference
had quietly vanished.
On the arena,
Cáo Jiànyú finally stepped forward.
The stone surface trembled faintly.
The step wasn't fast,
but it carried clear intent—
a probe,
a test,
a push to force Xuán Chén into reacting first.
Xuán Chén did not retreat.
He simply lifted his gaze,
meeting Cáo Jiànyú's eyes for a brief moment.
Calm.
Unprovoked.
Unmoved.
In that instant,
a taut string deep inside Cáo Jiànyú
twanged sharply.
At that moment,
Dù Jīnzá's voice rang out from the judges' platform—
low, clear, and absolute.
"—The life‑and‑death duel begins."
As the words fell,
the formation's glow tightened.
The air locked in place.
Cáo Jiànyú's back foot slammed down.
His massive body shot forward
like an arrow loosed from a bow.
Almost simultaneously,
his thick palms snapped outward—
three streaks of black light
tearing through the air
straight toward Xuán Chén's face.
Xuán Chén frowned,
ready to sidestep—
when a dark blur swept across the ground toward his ankle,
forcing him to change his move
and leap upward instead.
In that instant of rising,
he finally saw it clearly—
The shadow sweeping at his feet
was Cáo Jiànyú's hand.
A delayed strike
that arrived first.
Such speed—
utterly incompatible with his bulky frame—
sent a jolt through Xuán Chén's mind.
Before he could analyze further,
Cáo Jiànyú had already followed him into the air,
closing the distance with brute force.
The two clashed in midair
in the span of a heartbeat.
Fists, palms, and surging qi collided in midair,
a storm of blows exchanged in the span of heartbeats.
In only a few breaths,
they had already traded over a hundred moves.
A deep, muffled shockwave burst out.
Both figures were blasted apart,
landing on opposite sides of the arena
and steadying themselves.
For one instant—
the entire arena fell silent.
Cáo Jiànyú's expression shifted.
He could feel it clearly:
Xuán Chén's strength pressed faintly above his own,
and his speed…
was nearly equal.
The "surprise advantage" he had planned
had evaporated instantly.
This battle would not allow him
to hold anything back.
Years of hidden strength
were being forced into the open.
Xuán Chén felt a similar jolt.
The bulky man before him
moved with impossible speed—
fast enough to strike after him
yet land first.
Such contradiction would sound absurd
to anyone who hadn't witnessed it.
And in raw power,
Cáo Jiànyú was far from the mediocrity
rumors had painted him to be.
Around the arena,
every spectator was stunned.
Cáo Jiànyú's speed and hidden depth,
Xuán Chén's calm and adaptability—
the tension in the air tightened like a drawn bow.
On the west side,
the White Lion's expression darkened further.
His aura spilled outward,
and several students nearby
broke into cold sweat under the pressure.
Even Sītú Jìng's face soured.
Both fighters had exceeded his expectations,
and for the first time,
the flawless control he prided himself on
showed a crack.
At the arena's edge,
Xiǎo Chén and Shī Tóngbǎi stared wide‑eyed.
That brief exchange
had shattered every assumption they held
about this duel.
Cáo Jiànyú seemed to reach a decision.
He gritted his teeth
and charged forward.
This time,
no probing,
no tricks—
just a direct, brutal clash of fists, feet, and qi.
Bang. Bang. Bang—
The sounds of impact merged into a relentless rhythm.
Before long,
Cáo Jiànyú was drenched in sweat,
his flesh trembling with each movement—
yet his breathing remained steady,
his qi unwavering.
Xuán Chén's brows tightened.
Something was wrong.
He could feel it—
but couldn't yet pinpoint what.
Then—
in the instant their fists crossed again,
a flicker of light flashed at the edge of his vision,
shooting straight toward his face.
He twisted aside immediately,
dodging the glints,
and clashed with Cáo Jiànyú once more.
The impact sent both sliding apart.
Xuán Chén steadied himself
and instinctively lowered his gaze.
On Xuán Chén's robe,
a sticky, pungent dampness clung to the fabric.
Not just on him—
the arena floor was speckled with the same substance.
At that moment,
Cáo Jiànyú suddenly grinned.
A sly, confident grin.
He flicked his wrist.
Several iron needles shot out—
but not toward Xuán Chén.
They embedded themselves into the ground before him.
Xuán Chén tensed,
ready for a follow‑up attack—
but none came.
The needles struck stone,
scraping up faint sparks.
And then—
Where the sparks landed,
flames erupted.
Xuán Chén's pupils contracted.
That wasn't sweat.
It was oil.
Fire raced across the arena,
heat surging upward,
the temperature spiking in an instant.
Cáo Jiànyú threw his head back and laughed.
"Xuán Chén!
The first person in this academy
to force me to use my real strength…
I never thought it would be you!"
In the glow of the flames,
his bloated body began to change—
as if an invisible shell were deflating.
Fat receded.
His frame tightened.
Muscle lines surfaced,
one after another.
Moments later,
standing in the heart of the fire
was no longer the obese figure from before—
but a lean, muscular form
coiled with power.
The entire arena
fell silent once more.
A foul, sticky stench clung to Xuán Chén's robe—
not just sweat,
but something rancid and oily.
The arena floor was splattered with the same substance.
Cáo Jiànyú pulled out a small vial
and uncorked it.
At once, a wave of stench burst forth—
blood‑metallic, sweaty, burnt—
a nauseating mixture that flooded the entire arena.
Outer‑courtyard disciples doubled over, retching.
The girls in the east stands covered their noses,
fanning desperately to drive the smell away.
On the west and north stands,
two gazes sharpened at the same time.
The White Lion.
Sītú Jìng.
Neither had expected this—
that the lecherous, greedy, seemingly useless fat man
had hidden such depth of calculation.
If not for Xuán Chén forcing him to this point,
no one would have ever seen it.
Cáo Jiànyú saw the moment had come.
He tipped the vial,
let the pill fall into his palm,
and bit down—crushing it between his teeth
before swallowing.
Xuán Chén's qi surged defensively,
bracing himself.
He knew this was the moment
Cáo Jiànyú would gamble everything.
After swallowing the pill,
Cáo Jiànyú's arms dropped,
his spine arched slightly.
A swirl of purple‑black smoke
burst from his back,
coiling upward like a living creature.
On the judges' platform,
one elder's face drained of color.
"Three‑Turn Soul‑Forcing Pill?!
Where did he get such a forbidden drug?!"
Gǔ Líng's gaze darkened.
He recognized it too—
but chose not to expose it yet.
Xuānyuán Dié's brows tightened.
Against overwhelming power,
drugs were useless—
but in a duel between equals,
they could decide life and death.
Her eyes drifted toward Xuán Chén.
In the next instant,
Cáo Jiànyú threw his head back
and roared.
His aura exploded.
Xuán Chén felt it clearly—
Cáo Jiànyú's strength had surged past his own,
pressing down on him,
only a hair's breadth from the mid‑Root‑Mark Realm.
His breath sank half a beat.
He couldn't drag this out.
But he also couldn't act recklessly.
If he wanted to survive,
he might no longer be able
to hide everything.
Cáo Jiànyú saw Xuán Chén's calm expression
and mistook it for fear.
He sneered.
"Xuán Chén, regretting it now?
Too late.
From the moment you offended me,
you should've known this day would come."
Xuán Chén didn't answer.
His mind was racing,
calculating every possible outcome.
And in that very instant—
Cáo Jiànyú blurred.
He was suddenly right in front of him.
The punch fell without warning.
Xuán Chén barely had time
to draw in qi on instinct
before the blow slammed into his abdomen.
"Pff—!"
Blood sprayed from his lips
as his body was hurled backward,
crashing heavily onto the stone.
Only then did he fully understand—
It wasn't just strength.
Cáo Jiànyú's speed
had transformed completely.