Within the arena, Xiao Yan’s sudden assault had caught everyone off guard. All the prior attacks occurred in barely more than a fleeting bolt of lightning, therefore many of those watching merely witnessed a black shadow zipping across their view before three muffled impacts cracked through the air, followed swiftly by the three forms of Baisan and his companions collapsing backward, struck heavily onto the stone walls as torrents of blood spilled from their lips. Observing the battered three attempting futilely to lift themselves with the stone wall as their sole support, the entire audience fell into solemn silence, countless pairs of astonished eyes focused on the imposing young man commanding the center stage. In this moment, chills ran through the hearts and minds of thousands present as they recognized the harsh reality—the gentle smiles of this seemingly harmless youth masked something more formidable underneath.
Atop the benches, Instructor Ruolin and Xiao Yu watched speechlessly. After a long pause, the pair exchanged glances—Baisan and his associates clearly had been bested already, yet shockingly, Xiao Yan went so far as to mercilessly press the offensive harder at the final instance! Many among the crowd—including even those two observing women-understood this brutal counter to be an unmistakable act in vengeance for Xun’er’s previous injury.
Within the grand podium centering the plaza, the Vice Principal Hubqan and other officials bore faces painted with astonishment. Moments later, Hubqan’s weary gaze swept over the bloodied figure of Hujia, whose countenance was a stark pallor apart from the crimson smear gracing her lip. Although some flickers of familial sympathy surfaced within his heart, eventually he resigned himself to an exhausted sigh. He had proclaimed openly that he’d abstain from youthful conflicts, choosing not to intervene either when Hujia and her associates turned against Xiao Yan and Xun’er before—a neutrality he would maintain even more now that Xiao Yan had decisively beaten the group under countless onlookers following some mysterious improvement of his force level. Ultimately, such outcomes rested firmly upon Hujia’s head; she bore the fruit of her wrongdoing, leaving Hubqan devoid of recourse save weary resignation.
“Heh. Xiao Yan strikes hard.” Fire Elder chuckled, eyes glued to that dark-robed young figure amidst the plaza, ignoring Hubqan’s lingering regret upon his face. A rigid smile tugged at that aged master’s otherwise solemnity. It was the rare glimpse of mirth on a hardened countenance.
“Ahhh, does—does this count against Xiao Yan under tournament rules?” A middle-aged arbiter, clearly uneasy, finally asked hesitantly amidst the panel before the chief podium where dignitaries gathered.
He’d have held no reservations had it not been for Hujia’s involvement. Truly, it was a first since long within the halls of Jia Nan academy that one could dare strike back mercilessly against a lass infamous for elusiveness and fierce beauty combined. For despite the privilege her standing implied, the academy bore no shortage of adorers, drawn to Hujia’s unmatched grace, yet reluctant themselves, despite prowess, to risk harsh treatment in turn should matters proceed. To see Xiao Yan so brutally indifferent sent unease creeping among many who might not dare tread such brutal steps in contest against this goddess of angelic façade.
“This tournament wasn’t entirely fair to begin with — thus Xiao Yan cannot be counted as having violated rules,” rebutted the vice principal dismissively before turning his sight toward his wounded niece with murmured thoughts:
“You’ll remember this one, girl… Too much luxury these years beneath my shelter left you blind—maybe facing this boy is precisely what this wild heart requires.”
Meanwhile in the field, Xiao Yan expelled an extended breath, oblivious still of the lingering stunned stares across stands. Tilting slowly, his line of sight merged from the rubble-ridden stones onto the青色（qīngsè) garbed maiden watching solemnly in her solitude atop ruins’ remains, softness momentarily warming the youth’s stoicism as he moved closer to the young female. As he wiped gently at speckles of blood on the edges of her smiling lips, he soothed her concern, inquiring:
“Are you alright, Xun’er?”
“I sustained barely skin deep harm in all,” came her quiet reply while her gaze danced playfully across him, her lips curling into amusement:
“No expected growth in the middle of battle—I admit your progression did impress us all.”
Xiao Yan could offer little beyond shaking his head lightly at such jest, his hand coming once more affectionately through her black locks, before lifting gaze once again. A voice soon boomed from him in clear projection across the entire stage toward arbiter ranks:
“I wonder if that concludes today’s competition? If not, I have more strength enough left yet willing to entertain those three once more.”
“Oh yes—it ends, yes it’s over.”
Prompt response came from a seated judge who rushed forward immediately, bowing eagerly in reply to Xiao Yan’s bold challenge. The brutality showcased moments ago had surpassed their anticipations—continuation meant risking lives among them if they let Xiao Yan resume. These three weren’t merely competitors—they each represented families and names worth reckoning in the land. Any fatal incident would unleash uncontrollable disruptions for all within these halls.
“This annual inner court tournament ends today. Five triumphant individuals, emerging through fiercely battled stages have made it, being none other than Xiao Yan, Xiao Xun’er, Wu Hao, Hujia, and Baisan!”
A wizened adjudicator now arose to shout the grand resolution, gaze sweeping across the entire plaza with booming tones. The air cracked into roaring cheer almost simultaneously as his conclusion settled within the crowd—the entire venue shook under an immense uproar of approval, multitudes from the benches rising in unison to gaze upon the two figures standing resolutely amidst the battlefield of rubble: young man and lady now centering every eye—awe and envy intertwining. Xiao Yan laid bare a truth none could argue: a mere display by his prowess silenced the halls on his undeniable might, marking himself not as a footnote alongside legends but instead standing shoulder to shoulder alongside that celestial being, young Xiao Xun’er!
And this dominance was won neither gift nor fluke: it belonged solely and purely to force wielded in iron fists within this hierarchy ruled by the creed that might alone commands.
Within the shattered aftermath’s heart beat, against cold, still rock, the fallen Baisan—Hujia and Wu Hao—bore their backs leaning weak. Slight flitches crossed strained countenances where pain clawed merciless, their injuries no trifling wounds after suffering Xiao Yan’s ruthless strikes, each one knowing no full return before enduring at the least a week’s time in rest and reparation. Breathing hoarse and ragged gasps into the broken remnants still lingering, their gazes shifted through shattered remains up toward two distant figures now hailed. In this realm now—champions alone held power to bask in.
“The fool—such brute unchivalrousness! He hits harder than any!” gritted HuJia through a tightened set of pearly whites. Once alight with vibrant, dancing brilliance now shimmered with barely suppressed glisten in defiant wetness—hurt not by body’s wound, but spirit’s wound. It has truly been an anomaly for this untouchable lass—to suffer humiliation by hands of a boy so equally-aged! She who once never tasted anything save unchecked success, suddenly felling a fall into the dust of ego so unrelentlessly by one still within her age bracket; the pride once her armor cracked severely.
Xiao Yan…your power eclipsed my belief! However—I am certain: I shall surpass you!” cough erupted Wu Hao from tight lungs, his pallid frame momentarily glowing pink across cheeks as a heated glimmer blazed into his pupils — undimmed even after harshness dealt—such an unbreakable nature, ever strengthening like tempered steel under hammer. This fierce resolve of perseverance and will could serve as a catalyst, perhaps accelerating his ascent as spoken previously by the academy’s elder scholars—mentioning even whispers that even the elusive principal himself had murmured: ten full years left undistracted by destructive tendencies upon this path could birth truly an unstoppable warrior from this one soul!
“I am far from done here! My shame from today—you Xiao Yan shall someday taste a thousand fold for your hubris and cruelty! Remember well: eventually, you yourself will come crawling at my feet on bleeding knees.”
Deep in shadowy, lowered vision smoldered pure hate across his pupils. Every nerve and sinew strained in clenched fists; the pain radiating from spine, nearly unbearable—yet not physical pain was his bitterest poison—healing flesh paled beside mental scarring left from having tumbled down from once revered pedestal. From a name once lifted in praise across halls, an instant’s destruction by a mere boy—once a shadow beneath everyone now risen triumphant—and with each passing breath of the future, the respect he’d held so long, would crumble to whispers beneath the shadow cast by none but Xiao Yan.
It wasn’t unlike former days for Xiao Yan too once—only by overcoming great falls did strength flourish. This truth echoed deeply within both of their souls despite outward conflict, their destinies entwined.
Yet now, within that shattered field midst glory’s echo, Xiao Yan gave no heed to their inner storms: For him now, securing his place among the Inner Academy brought one further step near the coveted treasure—Heartfire Of the Fallen Ones: a legendary blaze of mystical origin whisperered about for its unmatched might. Anticipation brewed in the young master as thought turned to the day—when his flame consumed its next prey, the very air itself may tremble beneath his feet. The old master—the healer elder had proclaimed—claimed absorbing one fire was groundwork only while fusion between the first followed by secondary consuming blaze would yield unparalleled transformation, the likes of myth.
A true transformation—one beyond his crutch upon past teachings: strength enough to protect those close, vengeance within reach of enemies.
“The Heartfire, shall be claimed—for mine alone it shall become!”
His resolve tightened. Upon the day this blaze bowed its neck beneath him, a path would be laid toward ascension among true might of the continent.
Even as final decrees echoed forth announcing the tournament done, figures began slipping down into field’s ruins clothed in alchemical robes—the healers. Gathering gravely wounded bodies of those once formidable rivals, they carefully withdrew.
“A fine battle that was—we all see. Boldness, your strength indeed stuns us. I’ll admit defeat today: Xiao Yan you stood triumphant. Yet mark my words, those three will nurse grudges bitter beyond words—I foresee your days ahead fraught with tension,” chuckled one fellow youth—commander among healers—addressing Xiao Yan even as overseeing wounded removal.
“Come find me among alchemists in my sect later. Among Jia Nan’s halls—we, the medicine-makers enjoy liberties from even disciplinary forces or this very vice principal—no easy threats.”
The figure turned fully now—Lo Mou!—The one beaten down in previous competition.
Laughter in his tone:
“Well, I do have interests in visiting the medicinal faction as future time allows.”
With easy grace upon speech, Xiao Yan spoke gently as he walked away—the violent aura from prior battles long gone.
Without another word between them all, all eyes upon youth retreating beside the girl clad bright in hues of jade lightness, figures vanished from cheering masses, leaving grand coliseum behind in the wake of victory.
Thus the festival reached its long conclusion. One moment etched in minds of those gathered forever—a tale to rise and live alongside legends.
The final chapter of that event drew slowly yet surely down from the stage, leaving echoes in wake like dying thunder in distant skies.
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