Shao Xiaotian deftly closed the distance between himself and Lin Meirong, his lips curling into a light, almost cocky smirk.
"So, beautiful," he began, deliberately drawing out the words as if savoring them, "we've got a whole hour to discuss strategy. But first… how about we lay our cards on the table? What's your ability?"
Lin Meirong slowly turned her head, the shadows at her feet stirring like living things. Her eyes, glinting like stars in an icy void, slid over him with cold detachment.
"Beautiful?" Her voice was a whisper, like wind lost in abandoned corridors. "You're either brave or a fool. Or maybe… both."
The shadow at her feet lifted, momentarily taking the shape of an elegant blade before dissolving into mist.
"My ability?" She tilted her head slightly, and the surrounding shadows seemed to freeze in anticipation. "I dance with darkness. Shadows become my hands, my claws, my traps… but only where light meets gloom. Give them five minutes—and they vanish. And if there's nothing but pure darkness…"
She paused, her fingers flexing slightly as the shadows writhed, as if in unseen pain.
"...I become helpless. Satisfied, sunbeam? Or do I need to spell it out for you?"
Her lips twisted into something that might have been a smile, had it not been laced with venom.
Shao met her gaze without flinching, his fingers brushing his forearm where dark bands on his skin began to shift, shimmering like liquid metal.
"Lucky us," he said, genuine amusement in his voice. "Our abilities are similar!"
The bands on his arm shot upward, weaving into a narrow, curved sword, its blade flickering as if light and shadow battled for its surface.
"I control these stripes," he continued, spinning the blade effortlessly as if it were an extension of himself. "They can become weapons…" The sword dissolved, wrapping around his arm as plated armor. "...or shields. And if I push it…" His fingers clenched, and the stripes exploded into a fan of razor-thin blades. "...they can even surprise you."
Lin Meirong stilled. Her shadows, once threateningly fluid, now hung suspended, as if intrigued. Her eyes narrowed, studying his blade with cold but newly awakened curiosity.
"Oh…" Her voice softened slightly, almost intrigued. "So you're not just a talkative kitten. You, too, can play with the patterns of fate."
The shadow at her feet stretched, mimicking the shape of his blade—but with sharp, unnatural twists, as if in playful competition.
"But your stripes are part of you. My shadows…" She flicked her wrist, and a ring of dark spikes erupted around them before melting into the air. "...are just guests from a world even night beasts fear."
She tilted her head, and for the first time, something resembling respect flickered in her gaze.
"Fine, stripes. Maybe you're not entirely useless." The shadow behind her briefly took the shape of a tiger's maw, teasing him. "But if your 'patterns' fail… don't expect my darkness to catch you."
With that, she turned, leaving a trail of trembling shadows in her wake—a clear sign the conversation was over.
But her interest, however reluctant, had been piqued.
Kun, eager to learn more about his charge, confidently approached Xu. His eyes sparkled with friendliness, but beneath lay curiosity—who was this mysterious partner?
"So, you're my partner? Great! I'm Kun, and I'm glad to meet you!" His voice was warm but tinged with nervousness. He grinned broadly and extended a hand for a handshake, trying to appear open.
Xu didn't rush to accept the gesture. Instead, he dragged a finger through the air, and Kun felt a faint vibration—as if an invisible string had grazed his palm.
"Handshakes… How banal," came the cold, mocking reply. "But fine—let's play a duet. Just don't hit a wrong note, or…"
The string screeched—a meter away, a stone cracked as if split by an unseen blade.
Kun froze for a second but quickly composed himself. He refused to show fear. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, keeping his expression friendly.
"By the way, sorry if I disappoint you… I don't have any special abilities, but I promise—I'll fight to the end! I won't let you down!" His voice was earnest, almost fervent, as if sheer determination could compensate for his "ordinariness."
The response was immediate.
Xu's fingers plucked the string—and the air before Kun suddenly tightened, making it hard to breathe. The pressure turned almost physical, like an invisible hand gripping his throat.
"No abilities?" Xu's voice was quiet but laced with a dangerous hiss, each word a threat. "Then shut up and be my metronome. Your role is to dodge in time… so I don't cut you down with the enemies."
Without letting Kun reply, he turned sharply and stepped away, leaving a trembling shadow-trail behind—a clear sign the topic was closed.
But something in his gaze betrayed interest.
Hidden, barely perceptible… but undeniably there.
Feilin and Liu stood apart. Suddenly, Feilin broke the silence, her voice mocking but tinged with curiosity:
"So, my partner's a descendant of a goddess? Hmph… You'll die of old age before you achieve anything."
Liu smirked, but a cold glint flashed in her eyes:
"At least my life will be a thousand times more interesting than your."
Feilin crossed her arms, her tone turning slightly serious:
"Jokes aside…" She sighed, tossing back a lock of snow-white hair. "You're right, I'm not eternal. But you know what amuses me most?" A pause. Her voice grew quieter but sharper. "That you, a bronze medalist, are still afraid of me. Otherwise, why bring up death so quickly?"
She deliberately turned away, pretending to check the time, but the corner of her mouth twitched—her pride stung.
"By the way, if I'm so weak…" Suddenly, time around them slowed, and a falling branch froze mid-air. A second later, everything returned to normal. "...then why are you only third, not first?"
Had Liu responded with aggression, Feilin would've just shrugged and tossed over her shoulder:
"Don't waste my minutes on nonsense. Unlike you, I don't have an endless supply."
Liu snorted, but before she could leave, Feilin suddenly continued, her voice playful:
"Seems all divine descendants suffer from selective deafness. You didn't even hear me say we're practically the perfect team."
She waved a hand, and Liu felt her body change—wrinkles smoothing, joints easing, muscles regaining their youthful lightness.
"My magic can do many things," Feilin mused, enjoying the effect. "Including altering physical age. But slowing time in a fixed radius? That's beyond me… Unlike you, granny~"
Liu froze. Her fingers trembled as she touched her now-youthful face. Her eyes widened in shock, then flared with fury—but deeper, almost imperceptibly, flickered hope.
"You…" Her voice wavered, but she steeled herself instantly, clenching her fists. "Are you mocking me?" She stepped forward sharply—not to attack, but to close the distance. "I've carried these cursed clocks for eternity, and you… you just wave a hand and erase years?" Her laugh was bitter but lacked its former venom.
A pause. Liu averted her gaze as if to leave but suddenly stopped. When she spoke again, her voice held unexpected restraint:
"Fine… suppose we really are the perfect team." A hint of sarcasm, but without the earlier bite. "But if you think I'll kneel for every year you gift me…" A sudden smirk, her eyes challenging. "...you're wrong, bronze. I'll decide if your skills are worth my time."
She turned to leave but threw over her shoulder:
"And by the way…" She stopped, not looking back. "Call me 'granny' again, and I'll slow time so much you'll spend ten years saying one word. Let's see whose magic is stronger."
With that, she walked away, leaving a distorted trail of space behind. The conversation was over, but one thing was clear—her interest, however grudging, had been awakened.
on the other part of area stood Chen and Natsuki
"Listen, if you're ever on the brink… Don't let someone else finish you. Who knows—maybe there's a necromancer among the enemies." Natsuki squinted, arms crossed. "You wouldn't want your corpse shuffling in their ranks, right?"
Chen Feng's voice rumbled like distant thunder:
"If I die, it'll be by explosion. Let that necromancer try piecing together what's left after I paint the walls across three blocks."
The crunch of crystal under his gauntlet as he clenched his fist.
"But if it comes to it… You finish me. Better safe than sorry."
A sidelong glance—not a challenge, but cold calculation.
"Hah… Seems I've got more than just a thick-skulled idiot here…" Natsuki suddenly raised his hand, fingers splayed as if for a high-five, but his grin was pure challenge.
Chen slowly turned his head, eyeing the outstretched palm, then Natsuki's face. His gaze held irritation and vague understanding.
"You're either a fool or the only one not scared of my 'touch.'"
A pause.
He slammed his palm against Natsuki's—but at the last moment, stifled the impulse, so the impact only slightly knocked Natsuki's hand back. The loud clap echoed across the arena. The crystals on his armor flared dull blue.
Chen turned sharply, stepping away. A trembling shadow-trail followed—a clear sign the discussion was over. But unspoken interest, however denied, now lingered.
Luo Zhien approached Huang Jinlong slowly, arms crossed. His voice was calm but carried a subtle challenge:
"Since we're partners, let me offer advice—your left leg needs work. It's weaker than the rest."
Huang Jinlong turned his head slowly. His slit-pupiled dragon eyes burned with cold gold light.
"You think I don't know my own weaknesses? That leg's weaker because the bones broke when I held dragon form too long. But if an enemy dares target it…"
His fingers momentarily scaled over, claws slicing the air with a threatening whistle.
"...I'll tear their head off before they realize their mistake. Save your advice for things that matter in a real fight."
He turned away sharply, but his tone held more than arrogance—something like grudging approval.
"Doesn't matter, huh?" Luo smirked, narrowing his eyes. "Then a real fight will prove which of us is right."
Huang Jinlong whirled around, scarlet flames igniting in his slitted eyes.
"Ha. One thing you're right about—a fight will settle this." He bared teeth that sharpened slightly. "But if you're so confident… why not test it now?"
His stance shifted—left leg deliberately set back, exposing the "weakness." The challenge was obvious.
Luo moved first. His fingers snatched an arrow, the bowstring drawn—the shot loosed before Huang could react.
The arrow struck Huang's left leg just as he lunged. Pain seared through muscle, ruining his leap—he landed harder than intended.
"Gh…!" He gritted his teeth but didn't cry out. His eyes narrowed to furious golden slits… yet held unexpected respect.
"Acting like a child," Luo shook his head, lowering his bow. "Today, we're a team. No need to fight."
He stepped closer and yanked the arrow from Huang's leg. Instead of blood, the wound began sealing.
"Special arrow. For when I don't want to kill."
Huang Jinlong stared at his healing flesh, then slowly looked up.
"You… healed me?" His voice was deeper, almost a growl, but without aggression.
A pause.
"Hm. So you're not just talk." Finally, he looked away. "Fine. Today… we're a team."
His spear lowered. But his gaze now held something new—as if he'd truly considered, for the first time, what it meant to have not a temporary ally, but a real partner.
Suddenly, the space around everyone distorted. Light shattered into shimmering particles, the ground vanished beneath their feet. The sensation of freefall lasted only a moment—but long enough for their hearts to pound wildly.
Then, Kun and Xu stood amidst endless ruins stretching to the horizon. Giant stone slabs, veined with cracks, faded into misty distance. The air hung heavy, thick with ancient dust and something… mystical.
The crumbling walls bore faded yet discernible symbols—pulsing faintly when gazed upon. Between them were murals: a colossal Kitsune with countless tails, each twisting like a separate entity. Its eyes, even in stone, burned with cold intellect and mockery. Beside it—the silhouette of a woman in flowing robes, her staff crowned by a skull. Her face was shadowed, but her presence felt unnervingly real.
"Time's up!" Jun Le's voice echoed from nowhere and everywhere. "You've arrived in a specially crafted zone—five hundred thousand li across!"
Kun whipped around, eyes wide.
"Five hundred thousand?! How are we supposed to find anyone in that? It's… it's a whole world!"
Xuyu didn't answer immediately. His gaze traced the ancient symbols as if deciphering secrets. Finally, he turned to Kun, his voice icy:
"Shut up. If that distance scares you, you shouldn't have come. This isn't a place for weaklings."
Kun clenched his jaw but stayed silent. The wind howled through the ruins, laughing at their fears.
Kun and Xuyu crept cautiously through the labyrinth of ruins. Crumbling stone crackled underfoot; the wind whispered warnings through broken arches. Their eyes caught glimpses of murals—the many-tailed Kitsune, the witch's staff trembling in carved stone as if sensing them.
Then, the air shuddered. Jun Le's voice rang out, cold and detached:
"First blood spilled! Zhang Wei is out!"
Xu froze, eyes narrowing. He turned slowly to Kun, his gaze a mix of scorn and calculation.
"So, someone's already betrayed their partner…" he mused, voice dripping with icy amusement.
A chill ran down Kun's spine. He tightened his fists, grappling with the implication.
"Why betray partners?" he thought. "Only three pairs can advance… Wouldn't sticking together be smarter?"
But the longer he pondered, the clearer it became: if someone had already started eliminating rivals, the rest would either retaliate or die first.
A distant sound—a stone tumbling—broke the silence. Kun spun, but saw only shadows and ancient walls.
"You realize what this means, right?" Xu's voice was eerily calm, yet steely.
Kun nodded slowly.
"It means the real game has begun."