The Ninefold Mountain Sect's arena thrummed with the pulse of a thousand cultivators, its spirit stone tiers vibrating under the weight of cheers and qi as the tournament resumed under a sky heavy with jade clouds. The air was thick with the scent of scorched earth and spiritual herbs, the remnants of previous matches lingering like ghosts. Wei Chen stood on the central platform, his Early Foundation Realm qi flowing steady and strong, the three jade fragments in his tunic pulsing like a second heart. The breakthrough in the vault had transformed him—his frail body now hummed with celestial energy, his meridians a river of jade light. But the weight of Elder Mo Tian's ultimatum pressed heavier than any blade, and Wei Liang's absence from the stands felt like a storm brewing.
Lin Xiyue stood at the arena's edge, her sword strapped to her waist, her crimson ribbon fluttering like a flame in the wind. Her eyes locked on Wei Chen, a grin playing on her lips that masked the worry flickering beneath. "Don't hold back, scholar," she called, her voice cutting through the roar. "I want a real fight when it's my turn. No more of that 'saving the day' nonsense." Her teasing was sharp, but the way her gaze lingered, soft and fierce, sent a warmth through Wei Chen that rivaled the fragments' glow.
He flashed a grin, gripping his dagger, its jade runes shimmering. "Worried I'll embarrass you, sword maiden? Keep dreaming—I'll leave some glory for you." The crowd laughed, but his pulse quickened at her words. Lin Xiyue's fire had become a constant in his chaos, her banter a lifeline amid the visions of betrayal and the cult's shadows.
Su Meilin sat among the elders, her white robes a beacon of serenity, her jade fan closed in her lap. Her moonstone eyes met Wei Chen's across the arena, calm but intense, and the fragments burned hotter, resonating with her celestial qi. She had slipped him an elixir before the match, her touch fleeting but lingering in his memory. "Stay vigilant," she had whispered. "The cult watches." Her presence was a quiet anchor, her knowledge of the Celestial War a thread tying him to his past.
Elder Mo Tian's voice boomed, silencing the arena. "The tournament tests not just strength, but destiny. Let the matches begin!" His Nascent Soul aura swept over the platform, making disciples flinch, his eyes fixed on Wei Chen like a hawk on prey. The gong's clang echoed, and Wei Chen's first opponent stepped forward: a tall disciple named Huo Feng, a prodigy from the sect's outer halls, his qi at Middle Foundation Realm, his twin halberds wreathed in wind qi.
Huo Feng sneered, twirling his weapons. "The 'useless heir' thinks he can stand with the worthy? I'll send you back to your books." His halberds whistled, unleashing Wind Dragon's Fury, a gale of qi that tore across the platform, shredding banners and sending dust swirling.
Wei Chen's Jade Sovereign's Step activated, his body blurring into a jade afterimage, dodging the gale with grace that belied his recent breakthrough. The fragments pulsed, fueling his qi, and he channeled the Jade Soul Scripture, forming a green shield that absorbed the wind's edge. The crowd gasped as he closed the distance, his dagger flashing in a Jade Soul Palm strike, celestial qi exploding against Huo Feng's halberd.
The impact shook the platform, Huo Feng staggering, his wind qi faltering. "Impossible!" he roared, spinning his halberds in a Tempest Barrage, blades of air slicing toward Wei Chen. Wei Chen's shield cracked, a cut grazing his cheek, but the Jade Sovereign's memories surged—a battlefield under stormy skies, outwitting a wind cultivator with precise counters. He sidestepped, his dagger tracing a rune in the air, unleashing a burst of jade qi that shattered one halberd and sent Huo Feng flying off the platform.
The arena erupted, cheers thundering like a storm. Lin Xiyue whooped, pumping her fist. "That's my scholar! Keep it up, or I'll steal your thunder!" Her grin was wide, but her eyes shone with pride, a warmth that cut through the adrenaline.
Su Meilin's fan flicked open, hiding a subtle smile as she leaned toward an elder. "His qi has evolved," she murmured. "The fragments are awakening something ancient."
Wei Chen caught his breath, wiping blood from his cheek, the fragments' warmth healing the wound. But a prickle of malice caught his senses—the same demonic taint from Wei Liang's spear. His eyes scanned the stands, spotting a cloaked figure slipping away, a jade token glinting in their hand. Shadow Viper? Or Wei Liang himself? The fragments burned, warning him.
The next match was against a female disciple, Mei Ling, her qi at Early Foundation Realm, her whip crackling with lightning. "You've had luck, heir," she said, her whip lashing out in Thunder Lash, bolts of electricity arcing toward him. Wei Chen's shield absorbed the strike, but the shock numbed his arm. He countered with Jade Sovereign's Step, appearing behind her, his dagger pressing against her neck without drawing blood.
"Yield," he said, voice steady. Mei Ling dropped her whip, eyes wide with shock. The crowd roared again, but Wei Chen's mind raced—the demonic qi was closer now, seeping from the platform's edges.
As the semi-finals approached, Lin Xiyue joined him on the platform for a practice bout, the elders allowing it to "test alliances." Her Flame Blossom Strike met his shield in a clash of fire and jade, the impact sending sparks flying. "Too slow, scholar!" she taunted, spinning into a kick that grazed his side. Wei Chen laughed, dodging with a blur, his palm strike forcing her back.
"You're holding back, Xiyue," he said, grinning. "Afraid to hurt me?" Her eyes narrowed, but her lips curved, and she lunged, their qi intertwining in a dance of flame and jade. The crowd watched, mesmerized, as their banter echoed—teasing jabs about "useless heirs" and "fiery prodigies"—but beneath it, a tension built, her strikes closer, his counters gentler.
Su Meilin watched from the stands, her fan tracing runes, her celestial qi subtly bolstering Wei Chen's shield. When the practice ended in a draw, she approached, slipping him another elixir. "Your qi is stable, but the cult stirs," she whispered, her hand brushing his. "Wei Liang—he's the key. His demonic taint grows."
Before Wei Chen could respond, a surge of chaotic qi erupted from the platform's center—a sabotaged array, runes twisting with demonic sigil. A demonic artifact, a black jade orb, rolled from the shadows, exploding in a wave of venomous mist. Disciples screamed, qi faltering as the poison spread. Wei Chen's fragments flared, purifying the air around him, and he dove into the mist, his Jade Soul Scripture forming a barrier.
Lin Xiyue followed, her fiery qi burning the mist. "Liang's work!" she snarled, slashing at shadows. Su Meilin's fan spun, celestial waves dispersing the poison. Together, they reached the orb's source—a hidden compartment, etched with the Abyss Cult's sigil, and Wei Liang's spear mark. The cousin had fled, but the artifact confirmed his ties.
Elder Mo Tian arrived, his aura crushing the mist. "Treachery!" he roared, his eyes on Wei Chen. "You've proven your worth, boy. The tournament is yours—but the cult's head will roll."
As the cheers faded into murmurs of shock, Wei Chen stood with Lin Xiyue and Su Meilin, the fragments pulsing. Wei Liang's betrayal was the first crack in the sect's facade, but Lian Xue's shadow loomed larger. The tournament was won, but the war had just begun.