Hu Yanzhi stepped onto the martial stage, conspicuously lacking his signature folding fan. He simply wasn’t in the mood for theatrics today.

Though he wore a mask of cold composure, a cauldron of humiliation and fury seethed just beneath the surface, smoldering in his narrowed eyes.

He glared at Zhang Xian, who had ascended the opposite side of the stage with a maddeningly relaxed air.

“Zhang Xian, you will regret this day for the rest of your miserable life! I will make you understand the true price of provoking a power from the Central Continent!”

Zhang Xian, by contrast, looked positively radiant. He took a long, lazy stretch, his joints popping in the quiet of the arena.

“Young Master Hu, you’ve got it all wrong,” Zhang Xian said, his voice a satisfied, lazy drawl. “After the… exquisite moments I enjoyed last night, I feel I could die a happy man. What is there to regret?”

“You… you two!!”

Hu Yanzhi’s face twisted into a grotesque mask. “You actually dared to commit such shameless acts within the imperial palace grounds?!”

The illicit images his mind conjured pushed him to the brink of a total mental collapse.

“Qingqing and I are deeply in love,” Zhang Xian replied, wearing an expression of wounded innocence. “When emotions take their natural course, how can it be called shameless?”

He sighed, rubbing his temples as if fighting off a lingering fatigue.

“Anyway, let’s talk less and fight more, Young Master Hu. Let’s get this over with. I’m actually quite exhausted after such a… strenuous night.”

“Aaaaaaaah!!!”

Every word was like a bucket of oil thrown into the furnace of Hu Yanzhi’s heart.

He went completely berserk, charging forward with reckless abandon. His spirit sword hissed from its sheath, bleeding a violent, crimson radiance that swelled to twice its size.

The moment Hu Yanzhi lunged, a sharp glint flashed in Zhang Xian’s eyes. He drifted backward with ghostly speed.

Simultaneously, two puppets he had poised in the shadows lunged from his flanks. Their coordination was terrifying—one aimed a lethal strike at the throat while the other swept for the hamstrings.

But the real killing blow came as Zhang Xian raised his hand. A talisman shimmering with purple lightning disintegrated into ash.

Earth-grade: Thunder Strike Talisman!

A terrifying bolt of purple lightning, thick as a wine barrel, tore through the sky and slammed toward Hu Yanzhi’s head.

This three-pronged assault was cold and calculated. Zhang Xian had been waiting for the exact moment Hu Yanzhi lost his mind!

“Hmph! I knew you’d pull a cowardly sneak attack, you old schemer!” Hu Yanzhi roared, his rage not entirely blinding his instincts.

With a sinister laugh, he flicked his wrist, activating a defensive talisman covered in ancient, profound runes.

A massive shield, as thick as a fortress wall, erupted into existence to intercept the lightning. It was another Earth-grade treasure: the Imperial Defense Talisman.

BOOM!

The formidable shield groaned under the explosion before shattering into sparks along with the lightning bolt.

Hu Yanzhi stood his ground, his spirit sword thrumming with a blood-red light that exerted a spiritual pressure equal to the weapons held by Zhang Xian’s puppets.

Clang! Clang! Two explosive collisions rang out as the blood-red blade parried both puppets, sending the heavy machines staggering back.

Hu Yanzhi stood firm, his arm tingling but his spirit soaring. The mockery in his eyes reached a fever pitch.

“Hahaha! Spirit treasures? Earth-grade talismans? You think you’re the only one with deep pockets? You want to compare wealth with me?!”

He laughed arrogantly, spittle flying from his lips.

“Zhang Xian, today I’ll show you what it means to be a mantis trying to stop a chariot! I’ll show you the price of overestimating your pathetic strength!”

“Oh?”

A hint of genuine amusement curled Zhang Xian’s lip.

“It’s true, I don’t have many Earth-grade talismans left. But dealing with trash like you? I think I can find enough to do the job.”

“Arrogant fool!”

Hu Yanzhi reached into his robes and produced a talisman shimmering with a dazzling blend of gold and crimson.

“Country bumpkin! Open your dog eyes and look closely! This is a top-tier, dual-attribute Earth-grade talisman: the Golden Flame Sky-Rending Talisman! Your shabby lightning scraps aren’t fit to carry its shoes!”

The talisman ignited. Golden light and crimson flames interwove in the sky, transforming into thousands of giant sword phantoms, all aimed squarely at Zhang Xian’s heart.

Zhang Xian remained unhurried. He pulled out his own talisman, which glowed with the strange, shifting luster of watery blue and earthy yellow.

“What a coincidence. I have a dual-attribute one, too.”

He chuckled. As the light flashed, a massive, mountain-like earthen shield and a roaring water dragon manifested simultaneously.

The shield stood immovable while the agile dragon coiled around it, effortlessly swallowing the storm of golden flame swords.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Deafening explosions rocked the arena. Gold-red radiance clashed against blue-yellow brilliance in a chaotic dance of annihilation until both faded away.

Hu Yanzhi looked utterly deranged. Seeing his strike fail, he immediately flung out another crimson talisman without a second thought.

“Sky-Scorching Fire Rain!” he roared.

The talisman transformed into a crimson cloud that blanketed half the stage, pouring down a torrential rain of white-hot flames.

Zhang Xian merely flicked his finger. A deep blue talisman ignited.

A melodious dragon’s cry echoed as an ice-blue phantom soared into the sky. It opened its maw and unleashed a frigid tide that froze the fire rain into shards of ice before they could even touch the ground.

In mere minutes, the two had exchanged a dozen blows, throwing Earth-grade talismans around like they were worthless scraps of paper.

The spectators were beyond dumbfounded.

“Holy shit! Is this a duel or a money-burning contest?”

“They’ve burned through dozens already! Just one of those could buy my entire life!”

“Is this how whales fight? They aren’t comparing cultivation levels—they’re comparing whose family vault is deeper!”

On the viewing platform, Hu Yanqing remained composed, a confident smile playing on his lips.

He was calculating the odds: Earth-grade talismans were powerful, but they required a cultivator’s mental energy and spiritual power to command.

With Zhang Xian’s mere False Core level 3 cultivation, his reserves had to be hitting rock bottom. Meanwhile, his cousin was a Golden Core level 6 powerhouse with deep foundations.

As Zhang Xian waned, Hu Yanzhi would wax. Victory was inevitable.

Nearby, a Golden Core level 8 cultivator from the Spirit Ruins Sword Sect named Xu Mo felt a chill run down his spine.

He was the next opponent for whoever won this match. He had entered the tournament with great ambition, but watching these two “burn money” made him realize how naive he was.

Whoever wins, I’m forfeiting, he thought grimly. This isn’t a contest of strength; it’s a game of capital!

After another round of blinding exchanges, Hu Yanzhi realized with horror that Zhang Xian was still perfectly countering every move.

The fury in his heart was being replaced by a gnawing, cold anxiety. He didn’t know how many Zhang Xian had left, but his own supply was dwindling fast.

Someone in the crowd even shouted, “Stop! The talismans you’ve burned are worth more than the champion’s prize!”

Hu Yanzhi panted heavily, his eyes fixed on Zhang Xian with murderous intent. He reached into his chest and pulled out a pill that glowed with a sinister, pulsing crimson light.

It was the Blood-Burning Realm-Breaking Pill his cousin Hu Yanqing had given him.

The pill could instantly burn his essence blood and lifespan to force his cultivation up by three levels. The cost was permanent: his Golden Core foundation would be shattered, and his path to the Dao would be severed forever.

He hadn’t wanted to use it. But driven to the edge of madness by Zhang Xian’s smug face, only one thought remained.

At any cost… Zhang Xian must die!