The pill slid down her throat.

Instantly, a surge of energy—far more potent and ferocious than before—detonated from Li Fuxi’s core. She had forced the secret technique to its absolute limit, burning her very life force for fuel.

Her twin swords buzzed with a manic frequency. Her eyes transformed, one becoming a shard of pure, glacial blue, the other burning like molten gold. Her aura shattered the constraints of the seventh stage of the Golden Core, skyrocketing upward to press against the very ceiling of the realm.

Her gaze was cold, pure, and terrifyingly resolute. With a thought, her twin swords merged into a single streak of destructive light, hurtling toward Yang Poxiao.

Yang Poxiao’s faint smile vanished, replaced by a grim scowl. Without hesitation, he swallowed a Spirit Recovery Pill of his own. The heavy sword in his hands erupted with flames of unprecedented intensity.

Tangible runes of Yang Fire ignited along the blade, radiating heat capable of incinerating stone to ash. This was the Spirit Ruins Sword Sect’s closely guarded secret art—the Heaven-Scorching True Flame Sword.

BOOM—!!

A golden torrent of ice and water collided violently with the sky-scorching flames.

The explosion swept across the entire arena, a chaotic storm where two opposing forces tried to annihilate one another. The protective barrier around the stage groaned under the pressure.

Then, the light faded.

Against all expectations, Li Fuxi’s desperate strike had suppressed Yang Poxiao’s Heaven-Scorching Flames.

Yang Poxiao grunted, staggering back a step. A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. He had clearly suffered a hidden loss in the exchange.

However, Zhang Xian felt no joy watching from the sidelines. The System’s notifications were flashing in his mind like warning sirens:

[Ding! Li Fuxi’s Luck Value -1. Current Luck: 66.] [Ding! Li Fuxi’s Luck Value -1. Current Luck: 65.]

Her luck was hemorrhaging. She was burning her destiny to fuel this fight. This was not sustainable.

“Damn it!”

Disbelief, fury, and a vicious ruthlessness flashed in Yang Poxiao’s eyes. He hadn’t expected a mere seventh-stage cultivator to push him this far. For a self-proclaimed “Son of the Plane” like him, this was an utter disgrace.

“ARGH!!”

Yang Poxiao roared, abandoning all restraint. A violent surge of purple lightning erupted from within him, coiling around the crimson flames of his sword. The purple arcs intertwined with the scarlet fire, birthing a new, unstable force of destruction.

Dual Spiritual Roots of Thunder and Fire. This was his hidden trump card, forced into the light by sheer desperation.

The lightning-fire fusion instantly counterattacked, tearing through Li Fuxi’s momentum.

Pfft!

Li Fuxi was struck as if by a sledgehammer. Blood sprayed from her lips, yet the resolve in her eyes remained terrifyingly dim.

“Jade Shattering.”

A clear, cold whisper rang out, seemingly emanating from the depths of her soul.

In that instant, deep within Li Fuxi’s Dantian, something precious shattered. The foundational ‘Jade Seed’ of her Nine Turns Jade Condensation Sutra cracked open. An indescribable power erupted—a force carrying the tragic, beautiful aura of mutual destruction.

Better to be a shattered piece of jade than a whole tile.

Her aura didn’t just rise; it screamed. A blinding, jade-colored radiance swallowed her form.

[Ding! Li Fuxi’s Luck Value -30. Current Luck: 22.]

BOOM!!!

This collision was cataclysmic.

The jade-colored radiance crashed down like a collapsing glacier, instantly engulfing Yang Poxiao’s purple lightning and thunderfire.

“Gah!”

Yang Poxiao let out a shrill scream. The protective spiritual light around him shattered like wet paper. His priceless defensive spiritual treasure exploded into countless fragments, and he was blasted backward, crashing heavily into the arena’s edge. He vomited blood, his aura withering instantly.

As for Li Fuxi, the jade light around her vanished the moment the strike landed. Drained of all strength, she fell from mid-air like a broken doll. Her feet touched the ground unsteadily, and she only remained upright by leaning heavily on her swords.

“Jade Shattering!!”

On the viewing platform, Elder Wang Ya abruptly stood up, his face deathly pale. His eyes were filled with disbelief and heart-wrenching pity.

Li Fuxi had shattered her foundation. Centuries of arduous cultivation, the future of the Yunmiao Sect… destroyed in a single moment of stubborn pride.

Zhiyin had already vanished from the viewing platform, reappearing instantly at the entrance to the Yunmiao Sect’s rest area.

On the arena floor, Yang Poxiao struggled to rise from the dust. His robes were tattered, revealing burned skin, but the madness in his eyes burned brighter than ever. He crushed a healing pill between his teeth, ignoring the internal screaming of his organs, and stared fixedly at the swaying Li Fuxi.

He couldn’t believe it. He, a transmigrator, a protagonist, had been nearly killed by a side character.

“We concede! We concede this match!” Zhang Xian shouted toward the referee, seeing Yang Poxiao rise again.

Simultaneously, Zhiyin and Elder Shouheng signaled urgently to stop the fight.

But Li Fuxi stubbornly raised her head. Her face was gray, but her eyes were burning.

“I do not concede.”

Her hand trembled as she reached for her storage pouch again, fingers fumbling for another pill. She was ready to die right there.

“Hahahaha!” Yang Poxiao let out a wild, distorted laugh. He stretched out his hand, summoning his heavy sword back into his grasp. “Die!!”

With a furious roar, he charged straight at the defenseless Li Fuxi!

“Halt!”

Zhang Xian didn’t wait for permission. His figure blurred into a streak of light, shooting onto the arena.

Hum!

Four battle puppets instantly materialized before Li Fuxi, forming a wall of steel. Simultaneously, three Earth-grade defensive talismans ignited, stacking three layers of thick, yellow shields in front of Zhang Xian.

“Those who block me shall die!” Yang Poxiao screamed, his sword raised high.

Just as his blade was about to crash into the puppets, the air temperature plummeted. A figure clad in snow-white robes appeared before Zhang Xian like a ghost.

In her hand was a longsword flowing with ice-blue lightning. She simply pointed the tip forward.

A single point of lightning radiance, faintly carrying the roar of a dragon, pressed against the air.

Yang Poxiao froze.

The one who stood before him possessed a cold, solitary bearing and peerless beauty. It was Long Zhi.

“Master?!” Yang Poxiao’s killing intent evaporated, replaced by utter shock and a flicker of panic.

Long Zhi’s gaze fell upon him. There was no anger, no disappointment. There was only a deep, bottomless cold.

“Since you have already pledged yourself to the Guiyuan Sect, I am no longer your Master.”

Yang Poxiao felt as if he had been physically struck. A sharp pain pierced his chest, worse than the injuries he had just sustained. “Master, let me explain—”

“You need not explain to me,” Long Zhi cut him off, her voice flat. Her sword tip remained steady. “My intervention today is not for you. I merely wish to prevent anyone from committing vile acts while wearing the reputation of the Spirit Ruins Sword Sect.”

Yang Poxiao’s face turned the color of ash. His lips trembled, but no words came out. To be so coldly rejected, so publicly disowned by the woman he respected and desired most in this world… it was a torture far worse than death.

Looking at Long Zhi’s indifferent face, a bitter pang of regret struck him.

Was it worth it? Was joining the Guiyuan Sect worth losing her?

At that moment, a figure appeared beside Yang Poxiao, a hand patting his shoulder gently. It was Hu Yanqing.

He ignored the lethal intent of Long Zhi’s sword, his gaze carrying a predator’s appreciation as he looked up and down the elegant Sword Immortal.

“Fairy Long Zhi, there is a misunderstanding. Junior Brother Yang is merely studying temporarily at our Guiyuan Sect. Once his cultivation reaches the next level, he will naturally return. At that time, he will still be the pride of your sect.”

Long Zhi’s voice dropped another degree. “I will not permit him to set foot in the Spirit Ruins Sword Sect ever again.”

Hu Yanqing smiled dismissively. His gaze passed over Long Zhi and landed on Li Fuxi, who had finally collapsed.

She was held tightly in Zhang Xian’s arms. Her aura was gossamer-thin, blood stained her lips, and her stunning face was pale enough to break a man’s heart.

With Zhang Xian there to catch her, Li Fuxi had finally let go. She buried her face in his chest and fell into unconsciousness.