After Chu Tianqiu entered, the three people in the arena were locked in fierce combat.
Qinglong’s expression grew increasingly frenzied. He knew he had already killed that woman, yet his belief in “Soul Seize” remained unstable.
The two opponents before him were top-tier fighters—the slightest lapse in focus would leave him wounded again.
The devastating impact that woman had left behind didn’t vanish with her death. Could it be true, as she had said before dying… that even as a ghost, she would continue this terrifying curse?
Through repeated life-or-death experiments, Qinglong realized that his “Soul Seize” now seemed only useful for self-preservation.
At critical moments, he could use it to block incoming attacks, but whenever he tried to deploy it to kill the two men, it faltered.
Perhaps only in the brink of death could he break free from the shackles she had left behind and reach the pinnacle of “belief.” But what good would that do?
In this bizarre state, the battle dragged on for over a minute without a victor.
Then, amid the stalemate, all three heard the faint sound of a door opening inside the room.
They turned and saw Chu Tianqiu step through what had once been a wall—now reduced to an empty doorframe.
He seemed to know there was no sneaking up on Tianlong, so he didn’t bother hiding. Instead, he stood there openly.
Zhang Shan and Qiao Jiejin didn’t understand how Chu Tianqiu had walked through a door leading nowhere, but they knew he wasn’t an enemy. Their priority remained stalling Qinglong.
“You…” Qinglong frowned slightly. Too many unexpected events had already occurred today, and his ominous premonitions had reached their peak.
“Don’t be nervous,” Chu Tianqiu said, locking eyes with Qinglong. “You’re not my target.”
Qinglong’s eyes widened. “Not… me?”
“Keep fighting. I’m going after Tianlong.” Chu Tianqiu tossed the words carelessly before heading toward the staircase.
“Wait—!” Qinglong shouted, hesitation flashing across his face. “You can’t act against Tianlong now… I still need time to prepare—”
Zhang Shan blurred into motion, cutting him off. “But you don’t have time.”
Facing the missile-like fist, Qinglong activated “Soul Seize” once more, freezing Zhang Shan momentarily. Then, instead of engaging, he lunged toward Chu Tianqiu, delivering a powerful kick.
Chu Tianqiu’s expression darkened as he crossed his arms defensively. A loud impact echoed as he was sent stumbling back several steps—yet somehow, he managed to block the full-force attack.
Only then did Qinglong realize that all three men in the room possessed “Heaven’s Might.”
Neither Zhang Shan nor Qiao Jiejin intended to give Qinglong a moment’s respite. Seeing him distracted by Chu Tianqiu, they charged from behind.
“What a… joke,” Qinglong muttered, lowering his head. “The spear was never aimed at Tianlong… It was always me…”
Chu Tianqiu sensed Qinglong’s “belief” crumbling. Though unskilled in combat, he steeled himself and threw a punch at Qinglong’s chest.
Three attacks from three directions—all poised to deliver the final blow.
But just as the strikes were about to land, “Soul Seize” activated again.
Their limbs locked up, freezing them in place.
“What a… ridiculous, disrespectful decision,” Qinglong hissed through gritted teeth, his expression bordering on madness. “I’ll make every last one of you regret opposing me. If Tianlong and I are doomed to suffer… then I’ll drag all of you down with us. As long as Tianlong has even a breath left… I won’t die.”
Dark clouds began swirling across the ceiling. Qinglong no longer cared about Tianlong’s safety—he intended to level the entire room.
Perhaps the strain of “Thunderstrike” drained too much of his belief, for even “Soul Seize” wavered. The three men gradually regained control of their bodies.
Chu Tianqiu struggled to lift his head, watching the flickering “Thunderstrike” above. The situation had spiraled beyond control. With his body’s autonomy flickering in and out, could he still reach Tianlong in time?
Qiao Jiejin also noticed the intermittent effects of “Soul Seize”—his body alternated between his own and a puppet’s.
If they didn’t act fast, Qinglong would kill everyone in the room. He didn’t care if he or Tianlong was injured—he only wanted to end this rebellion.
He had clearly lost his mind.
A blinding flash of lightning crackled across the ceiling, casting the men’s faces in an eerie pallor.
Chu Tianqiu recognized the danger and immediately turned toward the door. Whether escape was possible or not, he had to inform Qi Xia.
But before he could figure out how to open it, a thin bolt of lightning streaked down, striking the doorframe with precision.
*Crack.*
The sound of splitting wood echoed as fissures spread across the frame, sealing the room completely.
“Damn it…” Chu Tianqiu’s face darkened. He didn’t know if the cracks would disrupt Qi Xia’s so-called “plan.”
With Tianlong and Qi Xia now separated by two different spaces, could the “Dreamwalk” connection still be established?
“Tianqiu,” Qiao Jiejin called, stepping forward.
Chu Tianqiu snapped out of his thoughts and turned to him.
“You do what you need to. I’ll handle this,” Qiao Jiejin said. “I’m not smart enough to change plans mid-fight. We still have our own roles to play… right?”
Chu Tianqiu stared at him, conflicting emotions flashing across his face before he finally nodded. “Right.”
“Leave it to me,” Qiao Jiejin said. “I’ve still got a trump card.”
He forced his stiff body into motion, taking several deep breaths.
Qi Xia’s “Two-Word Maxim” surfaced in his mind—perhaps the only way to break this deadlock. But could he still trust Qi Xia now?
For the first time, Qiao Jiejin hesitated.
The two words weren’t hard to understand, yet they felt unnervingly out of place.
Qi Xia had said: If you’re stuck in a desperate fight, try “cutting the tree.”
“Cutting the tree.” Such a straightforward plan.
Qiao Jiejin glanced at the fruit tree in the center of the room. Even if he didn’t cut it down, Qinglong’s lightning would soon reduce it to dust.
“Fine… I’ll give it a shot,” Qiao Jiejin muttered with a faint smirk. “No harm in trying.”
“Damn, you’re finally using that trump card?” Zhang Shan called from nearby. “Thought you’d take it to the grave.”
“Big guy, buy me ten seconds.”
No sooner had he spoken than Qiao Jiejin shot toward the tree.
Qinglong sensed the shift and whirled around—only to realize his opponent’s target wasn’t him.
It was… the *tree*?
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