Chapter 48

  Adam walked over to Lei, who now sat just beyond the boundary line—missing everything but his right arm and left leg.

  “You got hit pretty hard, huh?”

  Lei let out a dry laugh. “Honestly, I kind of expected this. Even then, I thought maybe… just maybe… I had a small chance of winning. I figured since I made it this far, I might as well go all the way.”

  He glanced down at what was left of his body and sighed. “And look where that’s gotten me.”

  His tone grew heavier. “sigh… I really need to learn my limits.”

  He slumped further, voice dropping to a mutter. “Getting healed by a Nascent Soul is gonna cost me an arm and a leg. Just take me to the emergency ward and let me contemplate the financial disaster I’m about to be in.”

  “Well,” Adam said with a faint smile, “what I’m gonna say is—your fight was amazing. Keep up the grind.”

  “What grind can I keep up in this situation?” Lei deadpanned.

  “Healing from a Nascent Soul’s gonna cost you an arm and a leg? Then today’s your lucky day. I’m healing you for free. I’m one of the volunteer healers, after all.”

  Light flared from Adam’s hands, warm and steady. In moments, Lei’s missing limbs were restored, his body returned to one piece.

  A ripple of shock moved through the stands—most spectators were stunned at the sheer potency of the light healing.

  But a small cluster remained calm. They had seen this before, during Adam’s survival match, and knew exactly what he was capable of.

  The crowd was still buzzing from Lei’s restoration when the gamecaster’s voice cut through the air.

  “Alright, folks—don’t marvel away too much just yet. Up next… it’s Adam’s turn, and his opponent hails from the Crimson Phoenix Sect!”

  Adam exhaled slowly, slipping a few spirit stones into his palm. A faint glow pulsed between his fingers as his Qi replenished from the expenditure of healing. By the time he pocketed the stones, his reserves were full again.

  Only then did he step into the arena.

  His opponent followed—a tall young woman with sharp eyes, long dark hair tied back in a neat cord, and a staff topped with a sphere of rippling blue light. His crimson robes bore the unmistakable phoenix insignia, stitched in gold thread over the heart.

  The gamecaster announced her name with clarity: “Shui meilin”

  The arena began to shift under the hands of the formation masters. The ground rippled, stone tiles lifting and reconfiguring into slick, uneven platforms. Shallow water channels ran between them, glinting in the light. Overhead, steam clouds formed, obscuring sightlines in patches.

  It was a battlefield that offered advantage and danger to both fighters—mobility compromised by the water, visibility hindered by the steam, footing treacherous on the damp stone.

  One of the formation masters leaned toward Adam and spoke firmly.

  “We won’t be integrating that element into the terrain,” he said, voice low. “Natural concentrated Death Qi is dangerous even for a cultivator attuned to it. It would tip the scale from ‘hostile’ to outright one sidedly lethal.”

  Adam gave a curt nod. “Understood.”

  His fingers brushed the edge of his sword. Light, metal, and death—three paths waiting to be woven into one fight. Across the water, Shui Meilin gripped her staff and offered a faint, polite smile.

  The match was about to begin.

  The gamecaster’s voice rang out again.

  “Before we start—anything either of you would like to say to each other?”

  Adam adjusted his sword and gave a small shrug. “Give it your all.”

  Shui Meilin tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly. “Oh, I will. And I’ll be the one winning.”

  The crowd hummed with anticipation.

  The signal to begin was given.

  Both fighters took their first step forward—only for each to slip just enough for their footing to falter. The sound of sliding boots and splashing water drew a brief laugh from the audience. But in the same heartbeat, both stabilized, their balance returning as if nothing had happened.

  I know they said it was slippery, Adam thought, shifting his stance slightly, this is slipperier than a waterslide

  Shui Meilin wasted no time. With a flick of her staff, streams of water surged across the ground, curling like serpents toward Adam’s ankles. The slick terrain made sidestepping dangerous—one wrong angle and he’d be flat on his back.

  Adam narrowed his eyes. He stabbed his sword into the ground for balance, then vanished in a flash-step, reappearing just outside the stream’s reach.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  The water slammed into where he had stood, splashing high before twisting back like living ropes, slithering toward him again.

  “You’re not going to outrun water on its own field,” Shui called out, her voice carrying a taunt’s edge.

  Adam kept slipping just out of reach, each step leaving faint sparks of light Qi behind. But the constant pursuit forced him on the defensive, his footing strained by the treacherous terrain.

  He raised his free hand, golden radiance blooming in his palm. With a sharp thrust, a Blinding Ray shot across the arena.

  Shui’s staff swept down. A wall of water erupted in front of her, bending the light away in scattered fragments. The barrier didn’t just block—it surged outward, transforming into a crushing water wave that came roaring toward Adam.

  His eyes narrowed. He stabbed his sword-arm deep into the ground, then let his skin shimmer into hardened steel. The wave crashed over him with explosive force—spray scattering into the stands—but when it receded, Adam still stood firm, immovable.

  A faint smile touched his lips. “Hmm… in this form, you really don’t have much of a way to beat me.”

  Shui’s expression hardened. “Oh, please. Don’t think too highly of yourself.”

  Shui’s staff tapped against the ground, and a deeper puddle in the arena began to churn. Water swirled upward, twisting into a floating sphere that pulsed with condensed force. In the next breath, it fired narrow jets—razor-like streams of water-pressure cutting forward with lethal precision.

  Adam’s instincts flared. He shifted, narrowly dodging the first strike, though a thin line of red bloomed across his shoulder where the jet had grazed him. His eyes tracked it—it wasn’t a one-off attack. The stream twisted in the air, following him like a predator.

  Why don’t I use this slipperiness to my advantage?

  Instead of fighting the terrain, Adam embraced it. Planting his sword-arm against the ground for stability, he pushed off in a slide. His feet skimmed across the slick surface like an improvised ice-skater, his body weaving and gliding around the hunting water jet. Each shift in balance was sharp, controlled—what was once a hazard now became momentum.

  Seizing the moment, Adam extended his free hand, dark Qi gathering at his palm. “Withering Pulse.”

  The decaying wave of energy rippled across the field, lined perfectly to strike both Shui and the glowing spell diagram anchoring her sphere. The pulse tore through the diagram first—shattering the floating water construct into a violent spray—then surged toward Shui.

  She reacted instantly, slamming her staff into the ground and vaulting herself sideways. Even then, the slippery terrain betrayed her, forcing her to use her staff as leverage to stick the landing. Her breath came sharp, and for the first time, strain showed in her movements.

  Adam pressed forward, skating across the slick floor with controlled speed, his sword glinting.

  But Shui wasn’t finished. She slammed her staff into the ground again, pulling from the puddles surrounding him. From them, serpentine streams of water shot upward, coiling like living ropes. Before he could slip past, they whipped around his arms and legs, constricting with sudden force.

  Adam’s body hardened in an instant, skin turning to gleaming metal as he struggled against the serpentine bindings. He drew in a sharp breath, dark Qi gathering—preparing to cast Grave Nail. But before the words could leave his mouth, one of Shui’s serpents surged upward and forced itself between his lips.

  His throat convulsed, muscles clamping down instinctively to stop the water from flooding further.

  He wanted to sneer, to throw out the taunt forming on his tongue—What are you going to do now?

  As though reading his thoughts, Shui’s voice cut through the arena. “I’m going to drown you, of course.”

  Adam’s eyes widened. Oh shit!

  The serpents obeyed her command. Cold liquid forced its way through every vulnerable opening—down his throat, up his nostrils, pressing against his ears with merciless pressure. Even from below, water seeped upward, invading his body with terrifying thoroughness.

  The sensation was suffocating. His lungs screamed, his vision swam, and for a moment the edges of his consciousness began to fray, that familiar darkness of drowning threatening to drag him under.

  Then—his will snapped back like a whip.

  Death Qi surged out of him, flooding the arena in a suffocating aura. The serpents writhed and shattered as the water itself recoiled, splashing violently away as if rejecting his very existence. Adam doubled over, vomiting up the liquid forced inside him, his chest heaving with ragged coughs.

  Without hesitation, he pressed his palm to his own body, threads of golden light spilling outward. His light-based healing burned away the lingering damage, restoring his breath and clarity. The metallic sheen of his skin dimmed slightly as he steadied himself, eyes narrowing at Shui across the slippery arena floor.

  Adam steadied his breath, the last strands of healing light fading from his skin as he stared at Shui across the slick battlefield. Her staff pulsed faintly, water swirling at her command like a living extension of her will.

  She’s only a single dantian user—just water, he thought, his eyes narrowing. But that’s exactly why she’s dangerous. She’s poured all her time into this one path, crafting spells, refining them, drilling until they respond as naturally as breath. Every move she’s made has been precise, calculated. Not just throwing water around—she’s directing a weapon she’s mastered.

  His sword-arm tensed, the metal sheen of his body fading as he considered the gap between them.

  I’ve got spells too. Ones I’ve practiced, even specialized thanks to my memory manipulation. But the truth is—I’ve never used them the way she has. Even on missions, I wasn’t this deliberate, this tactical with what to cast and when. She’s weaving her element into a battlefield of her design. I’m… still learning how to do that.

  His expression hardened, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

  But I have what she doesn’t. I’ve got more Qi than her, more cores to lean on, and the ability to heal through her damage. Versatility and endurance—that’s my edge. If I try to match her patience, I’ll lose. If I press harder, riskier—she won’t keep up.

  Adam rolled his shoulders, his stance shifting, killing intent beginning to leak with his Qi.

  Since that’s the case… I can afford to be aggressive. No— his eyes gleamed, a mix of excitement and focus, —it’s better for me to be.

  Shui’s staff gleamed as another spell ignited. Thin, needle-like water jets shot forward in rapid succession, hissing through the air like blades.

  Adam twisted and slid across the slippery terrain, his sword-arm digging against the ground for balance as he weaved between the strikes, each jet missing him by a hair. His eyes locked onto her position.

  “I’m closing this distance.”

  “Oh no you don’t!” Shui snapped, slamming her staff down. A massive tidal wave rose from the floor, curling forward with crushing force.

  Adam’s body flashed silver as he hardened into metal, Death Qi erupting around him in a suffocating aura. With a roar, he launched himself forward, tearing through the wave like a spear splitting the sea.

  Shui clicked her tongue, “Tsk.”

  The moment he burst free, Adam coated his blade in writhing death Qi, the metal vibrating at a razor-sharp frequency. He slashed at her with brutal speed.

  Shui brought her staff across her body, blocking—but the force was overwhelming. She jumped with the blow, letting herself be flung backward, skipping across the ground to gain distance.

  Adam’s momentum carried him further than he wanted. He drove his sword into the ground, sparks flying as he skidded to a stop. The instant his body steadied, his fingers flared with dark light—multiple Grave Nails erupted into existence, firing toward her in a deadly volley.

  Shui tried to dodge, twisting and spinning through the slippery terrain, but one nailed into her side. Panic spread across her face as she felt her vitality draining away, the nail leeching her strength.

  With trembling hands, she wrenched it free—

  —but Adam was already there.

  His blade pierced through, shoulder to shoulder, before dragging down. Her scream cut through the arena as her arm fell, severed, to the slick floor. Both of them crashed down hard, landing side by side in the puddled arena.

  Shui, pale and bleeding, first casted desperate water serpents that lashed out, trying to hold Adam in place. With trembling hands she raised her staff again, forcing a water jet to stutter to life at its edge. But the pain broke her focus—and she never realized the death Qi still gnawed at her vitality. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed, unconscious.

  Adam staggered upright, chest heaving, his blade dripping water and blood.

  The arena was silent for a moment. Then the gamecaster’s voice boomed out:

  “Winner of this match—Adam!”

  Adam stood tall in the center of the arena, his blade raised, basking in the deafening cheers that rolled across the stands. His stance was almost theatrical, a flawless victory pose that he held with exaggerated confidence.

  On the sidelines, a standby healer rushed to Shui’s side. Their light-based techniques stitched together her torn flesh and stabilized her, but the damage ran deep. After a few tense moments, Shui groaned and opened her eyes, consciousness returning.

  The very first thing she saw—was Adam.

  Still frozen mid-pose, looking like he belonged on a victory mural.

  Her face twisted with fury, blood rushing hot in her veins. “I’ll pay this humiliation back a million fold,” she spat under her breath.

  Unfortunately for her… Adam’s ears worked just fine.

  His grin froze. Slowly, deliberately, he turned his head toward her.

  Shui’s stomach dropped.

  In the next instant, Adam flash-stepped. One blink he was across the arena, the next he was right in front of her.

  Shui’s eyes went wide with terror. “W-what are you trying to do!?”

  Adam extended his arm toward her, palm open.

  Her body stiffened. “No, no—NO! Get away from me!”

  “Let me heal you,” Adam said, his voice calm, his smile oddly neutral, as if nothing about this was threatening at all.

  Shui thrashed weakly against the ground. “No! You’re going to do something to me—get your hand away from me!”

  “Just let me touch you so I can heal.” His tone was casual, almost lazy, like he was offering to fix a scratch on her robe.

  But his looming presence, combined with that perfectly neutral smile, only made it worse.

  From the stands, a few spectators finally shouted out:

  “Stop tormenting the lady!”

  “Leave her be, she’s had enough!”

  Adam glanced up at the crowd, his smile unchanged. “Look what you got me into. Let me be done with

  this fast.”

  Shui squealed, her panic hitting its peak. “No! Get away from me—no, no, NOOO—eeeiikk!!”

  [Of course, I’m only going to heal her back to normal… and erase that little grudge she just swore a moment ago.]