Chapter 27

  “When the time comes, don’t hesitate. The moment you do — you die.”

  Adam’s voice was steady, almost too calm for the weight his words carried. His eyes, sharper than any sword, fixed on Xiaoyan with a piercing clarity. “Whether you kill or not is your choice. But hesitation will get you killed.”

  The training ground, once echoing with laughter and the soft crunch of footsteps on dust, had fallen quiet. The earlier spar, the severed arm, the regeneration—none of it matched the tension in the air now. This was no longer a test of strength or technique. It was a moment of passing down something heavier than cultivation secrets—reality.

  Xiaoyan tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. The familiar weight suddenly felt different.

  In a blur, he burst forward—Blazing Echo Step igniting beneath his feet. Momentum surged. With that force, he unleashed a vertical slash, a falling guillotine aimed at Adam.

  But Adam vanished—Flash Step distorting space in a flicker. Xiaoyan’s blade cleaved through the lingering afterimage, carving a deep four-inch trench into the earth where Adam once stood.

  Sensing something was off, Xiaoyan instantly circulated Time Qi, sharpening his perception.

  Adam was already mid-motion—his sword arm driving forward to pierce Xiaoyan’s back. But Xiaoyan reacted in the nick of time. Switching his blade to his left hand, he blocked the strike behind him. Without breaking flow, he spun clockwise, his blade slicing horizontally toward Adam’s neck.

  Still caught in his forward thrust, Adam ducked beneath the sweeping edge, his gaze locked onto Xiaoyan. Riding the same momentum, he reached out, hand aimed for Xiaoyan’s face. But Xiaoyan, fluid in motion, completed his spin and narrowly slipped past the grasp.

  The two parted, returning to a brief standoff.

  “Nice one. Now it's my turn to be the attacker.”

  Without hesitation, Adam burst forward, blade arcing in a diagonal sweep—from high right to low left. Xiaoyan leaned back just in time, the edge whistling past his chest—but before he could counter, Adam vanished once more with Flash Step—this time, leaving no afterimage—then slammed into him with a shoulder bash to the sternum.

  The blow sent Xiaoyan flying, but he twisted mid-air, using the force to recover and land in a crouch.

  Adam was already closing the gap again—this time bringing his sword down in a brutal overhead cleave. Metal Qi pulsed through his arm, the blade singing with a high-pitched hum.

  Xiaoyan raised his sword with both hands, meeting Adam’s descending blade head-on. He had expected to cleave through the arm like before—but this time, the strike landed clean. The force slammed into him like a hammer, driving his feet into the ground and cracking the earth beneath.

  Adam smirked. “Guess my sword-arm’s tough enough now—not like the rest of me.”

  As Adam wound up for another crushing vertical slash, Xiaoyan sprang into action. In the heartbeat of a pause, he surged forward with a horizontal swing—blade whistling low toward Adam’s midsection.

  Adam didn’t flinch. Instead, he reinforced his stomach with a surge of Metal Qi. Xiaoyan’s blade sank in about a quarter of an inch before jamming, caught fast in the hardened flesh.

  Suddenly, a cold, oppressive pressure rippled through the battlefield. Adam’s Death Qi ignited, crawling into Xiaoyan’s body like a creeping frost, draining his vitality. The air thickened; a ripple of unease passed over the onlookers.

  Cornered, Xiaoyan pushed his Time Qi to its limit, desperate for a way out. Then, an idea sparked.

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  He triggered a series of tiny explosions along the left side of the sword lodged in his gut. The violent force propelled the blade forward with brutal force. The outcome was catastrophic — a jagged, searing gash tore open his stomach, intestines spilling and shimmering beneath the dying light, the right side of his torso ripped apart.

  Both combatants sprang apart, creating distance between them.

  Adam exhaled slowly, activating his light Qi. A faint glow shimmered over his stomach as the torn flesh sealed and regenerated seamlessly.

  A calm smile curved Adam’s lips. “Clever move. You’ll need that instinct if you want to stay alive.”

  Xiaoyan inhaled deeply, his mind racing. “Half my Qi’s gone…”

  He tightened his grip on the sword, resolve hardening. One breath, one hesitation—and I’m finished. I have to overwhelm him. No mercy. No pause.

  With fierce resolve, Xiaoyan surged forward, each Blazing Echo Step propelling him faster. He swung his sword in a sweeping arc, aiming to cut across Adam’s chest.

  Adam vanished with Flash Step, materializing just to Xiaoyan’s left.

  Feeling no resistance, Xiaoyan immediately tapped into his Time Qi, sharpening his senses for a fraction longer. In that brief clarity, he pinpointed Adam’s true position.

  Without missing a beat, Xiaoyan launched again, slashing diagonally downward in a fierce, slicing strike.

  Adam met the blow with his sword-arm, steel clashing sharply.

  But Xiaoyan pressed on—his left palm igniting with crackling Fire Qi—as he thrust forward, aiming to scorch Adam’s face in a sudden, brutal strike.

  Adam’s eyes flickered at the faint red glow. In a heartbeat, he Flash Stepped sharply to Xiaoyan’s left. The explosion erupted, but it only swallowed a fading afterimage.

  Refusing to lose momentum, Xiaoyan surged forward again, sword gripped in his right hand, aiming a fierce vertical slash.

  Adam shifted the blade aside, parrying with precision — but Xiaoyan’s assault didn’t relent.

  Still spinning with momentum, Xiaoyan closed the gap using Blazing Echo Step, his left palm thrusting toward Adam’s solar plexus, unleashing another fiery burst.

  Caught off guard, Adam braced himself. He circulated Metal Qi, hardening his torso, while a faint pulse of Death Aura softened the impact. For a moment, time seemed to freeze — then the blast landed, scorching the skin around Adam’s solar plexus to a dull, red-hot glow.

  Before Adam could draw a breath, Xiaoyan struck again—a fierce diagonal slash cutting from Adam’s left side up toward his right shoulder. Controlled micro-explosions on the side of the sword for more power.

  Adam knew dodging wasn’t an option. He met the assault head-on. With a guttural roar, he slammed his sword-arm downward in a crushing vertical strike.

  Both blows connected.

  Xiaoyan’s blade ripped through Adam’s upper body, cracking his spine and spilling his innards.

  At the same moment, Adam’s sword-arm sliced through Xiaoyan—from his right shoulder down across his torso—cleaving the arm cleanly.

  Overwhelmed by agony, Xiaoyan collapsed, unconscious.

  Adam, bloodied and swaying, steadied himself. Gritting his teeth, he called upon his healing, restoring both his own torn body and Xiaoyan’s mangled form.

  As the light faded and the wounds sealed, Adam looked down at the unconscious boy lying on the ground.

  A flicker of warmth stirred in his chest.

  “You knew you couldn’t win,” he murmured, voice low, almost reverent. “But you still fought like you could.”

  There was no arrogance in the boy’s strikes, no desperation in his eyes—just conviction. Precision. The refusal to flinch. Even when the gap between them was as wide as the heavens.

  Adam exhaled, letting the silence stretch.

  “That’s what makes a cultivator.”

  —

  Lan Xiaomei stared in horror, her small hands clenched into trembling fists.

  The moment Adam’s blade tore through her brother’s shoulder, she lurched forward instinctively, a cry caught in her throat.

  “Xiaoyan—!”

  Only Aria’s firm hand on her shoulder kept her from running into the arena.

  Her breath hitched as she watched Adam heal them both, but the panic wouldn’t leave her eyes. She had seen her brother bleed before, but never like this. Never so close to death.

  Tears brimmed but didn’t fall. Xiaoyan had told her to stay strong. So she bit her lip and stood there, shaking.

  —

  Aria von Ebonreich said nothing.

  Her violet eyes were sharp, focused—not on Adam’s power, but on Xiaoyan’s resilience.

  The controlled use of explosion Qi. The unyielding momentum.

  Her lips tightened faintly, betraying the smallest crack in her usual cold mask.

  “Idiot,” she muttered under her breath. “You almost died trying to prove something.”

  But even as she said it, a flicker of pride crossed her face. He had held his ground against Adam. That mattered more than anything else.

  —

  Wang Baole had frozen mid-bite, half a steamed bun dangling from his mouth.

  He slowly turned to the others, chewing absentmindedly, eyes wide.

  “D-did anyone else see that? He just—BOOM—and then WHOOSH—and then—THWACK—”

  He flailed his arms around, mimicking the moves with exaggerated gestures before slumping back down dramatically.

  “Bro Xiaoyan almost got turned into sliced pork bun... and then Adam turned himself into stew... and then—he healed like it was nothing!”

  He looked genuinely shaken for a moment, then mumbled, “Man, I need to train more. Or at least get better snacks for these trauma-inducing spars.”

  [Within Xiaoyan's consciousness – a quiet, starlit void]

  Xiaoyan floated in the vast stillness, weightless and worn. The sensation of torn muscles, broken bones, and searing pain had dulled to a distant memory here.

  A soft, familiar voice echoed beside him.

  “Still alive,” Lunaria said with a gentle chuckle, her form materializing from a shimmer of moonlight. Her eyes were kind, her tone warm and clear.

  Xiaoyan exhaled slowly.

  “I gave it everything,” he said, his voice heavy, not with regret, but with the finality of effort spent.

  “I pushed past my limits… improvised… adapted… and still…” His voice trailed off.

  Lunaria stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

  “And it showed.” She smiled. “That was an excellent fight, Xiaoyan. You didn’t just rely on what you knew — you created techniques under pressure. The exploding palm, the redirected momentum, the explosive slash…” She paused, pride gleaming in her eyes. “You didn’t fight like a disciple — you fought like a warrior.”

  Xiaoyan looked up at her, silent.

  “If it were anyone else, in the same conditions” Lunaria continued, “any other Foundation Establishment cultivator at the first stage, you would’ve won. No question.”

  “…But Adam’s not just anyone,” Xiaoyan finished for her.

  She nodded. “He’s just a little too strong… stronger than he should be. But that doesn’t diminish what you did out there. You didn’t lose—you grew. That’s more important.”

  Xiaoyan closed his eyes, feeling the weight of her words settle deep

  within his soul.

  “Then next time,” he murmured, “I’ll surpass even that.”

  Lunaria smiled, starlight swirling gently around them.

  “That’s the spirit.”