Chapter 99

Chapter 99: Bewitching the Heart

On the dueling grounds, Zhong Jue’s entire body was wrapped in blazing flames, like a meteor wreathed in fire suspended in the air.

Seeing this, Shi Ji Cai’s eyes flashed coldly and he sneered: “Hmph, just what I was waiting for.”

He stirred his metal-attribute qi. Golden light ran along the great saber in his hand, and a formation pattern flickered across the blade so subtly it was almost impossible to catch.

Then he took the initiative and rushed straight for Zhong Jue.

Shi Ji Cai’s figure split into more than a dozen afterimages in the air, each one with the bearing of a Daoist master, indistinguishable from the true body at a glance.

Across from him, Zhong Jue watched Shi Ji Cai charge in recklessly and murmured with a trace of surprise: “So bold.”

His longsword sang, the tip quivered, and a spark leapt forth, instantly coalescing into a huge firebird wheeling in the sky.

Shi Ji Cai bellowed his opponent’s name and swung down with force: “Zhong Jue!”

Zhong Jue’s expression turned solemn as he met the attack head-on without the slightest fear.

When blade and sword collided, the flames shrouding Zhong Jue seemed to come alive, writhing like nimble fire-serpents seeking to coil around Shi Ji Cai.

The great firebird circled the pair, stirring a wave of hot wind that wrapped them in a roiling heat haze.

Spectators gasped as recognition rippled outward:

One exclaimed with awe: “That’s Zhong Jue’s signature technique, the Scorching Firebird.”

Another clicked his tongue and said: “Shi Ji Cai is actually taking it head-on? Don’t tell me he’s forgotten that he lost to this very move last time.”

The doubts spread: “…”

Yet Shi Ji Cai, increasingly written off by the crowd, showed no hint of panic.

For an instant, the saber in his hand flashed with the light of a formation. The golden qi sheathing the blade disrupted perception so thoroughly that even Zhong Jue at arm’s length sensed nothing.

Very soon, Zhong Jue realized something was wrong.

He stared as the flames he had condensed began to weaken inexplicably and thought with alarm: [What’s going on? Why is my fire diminishing?]

Shi Ji Cai smiled coldly without giving him time to think and declared: “Zhong Jue, this time, you lose.”

His metal qi surged in a violent wave. He forced Zhong Jue back with a single overpowering strike.

The reversal came so abruptly that even the newly formed firebird began to waver, its shape threatening to collapse.

Bewilderment rippled through the stands:

One voice cried out: “What’s happening?”

Another frowned and asked: “Why did Zhong Jue suddenly fall behind?”

A third voice wavered: “Strange. Can Shi Ji Cai really win?”

Rong Shu’s brows slowly knit as she watched, her monocle trained on the saber in Shi Ji Cai’s hand. She concentrated and thought: [Just now… something appeared on his blade, didn’t it?]

Shi Ji Cai pointed the saber at Zhong Jue, pride swelling in his voice as he taunted: “Your greatest trump card has been cracked by me, Zhong Jue. Do we really need to keep fighting?”

Zhong Jue exhaled and answered with a rueful note: “I don’t know how you… forget it.”

In the next instant, his aura shifted drastically.

Sensing something amiss, Shi Ji Cai’s face changed.

Zhong Jue took a few deliberate steps forward, and the cultivation pressure rolling off him rose from mid-stage Golden Core to late-stage Golden Core.

He spoke with calm regret: “I had intended to continue suppressing my cultivation.”

He met Shi Ji Cai’s eyes and concluded without malice: “But the grand tournament slot is just as important to me. I’m sorry. I have to secure it.”

If it had been an ordinary spar, yielding once to Shi Ji Cai would not have been impossible.

But today was different, and Zhong Jue had to win.

Realizing clearly that Zhong Jue had broken through, Shi Ji Cai’s earlier look of certainty vanished without a trace.

He ground his teeth and tried to fight on, but a mid-stage Golden Core defeating a late-stage Golden Core was, in practice, impossible.

In the end, Shi Ji Cai was knocked from the platform and lost the match.

The stands erupted:

One disciple shouted: “Zhong Jue actually broke through?”

Another cursed in disbelief and said: “Damn… from what he said, it sounds like he was suppressing it all along.”

A third concluded with a decisive nod: “So it’s Zhong Jue after all.”

Someone summed up the obvious: “A late-stage Golden Core crushing a mid-stage Golden Core is only natural.”

The chorus continued: “…”

Hearing the talk rising and fading around her, Rong Shu slipped the monocle back into her Storage Pouch.

When she looked to the platform again, only the victor, Zhong Jue, remained. Shi Ji Cai was nowhere in sight.

…

In an empty corner, Shi Ji Cai slammed a fist into the wall and snarled: “Damn it, I lost again.”

He bared his teeth and swore with cold hatred: “Don’t get complacent, Zhong Jue. Next time, I will take it back.”

His mouth vented the words, but the more he thought, the more resentment burned.

Losing this match meant he could not represent the sect in the grand tournament.

Disciples selected to participate would all receive a bundle of cultivation resources as a reward.

Now that he had lost, Zhong Jue’s slot was secure.

When Zhong Jue received that reward and continued cultivating, he would soon open another gap between them.

Shi Ji Cai cursed his luck and pounded the wall again as he growled: “Damn it. Why did he break through?”

He had calculated everything well.

He had already found a way to counter the final move Zhong Jue used to beat him last time.

Who could have known Zhong Jue would advance to late-stage Golden Core and wipe out his chances in one stroke?

A voice sounded behind him, lazy and intrusive: “Really frustrating, isn’t it?”

Shi Ji Cai spun, eyes sharp as knives, and barked: “Who’s there?”

A man with an unfamiliar face stood before him. Seeing how tense Shi Ji Cai was, the newcomer smiled as if it were nothing and said: “Don’t be so on edge. I just happened to pass by.”

Shi Ji Cai sized him up. The man wore Inner Sect robes as well, his aura fluctuating at early-stage Golden Core.

The face, though, was wholly unfamiliar.

The Heaven’s Evolution Sect had many disciples, and it was normal not to recognize a few faces.

Besides, a cultivator weaker than himself was hardly worth remembering.

He jabbed a finger toward the exit and snapped: “If you’re just passing by, then get lost.”

If not for the sect rule against casual brawling, Shi Ji Cai, in no mood at all, would have already beaten this man bloody.

The stranger spoke bluntly and prodded the bruise on purpose: “You just lost a match. That’s why you’re so furious.”

Shi Ji Cai’s eyes went dark and he hissed in denial: “I did not lose.”

If Zhong Jue hadn’t broken through at the last moment, he would have won.

Zhong Jue only advanced because he had just become a personal disciple and obtained cultivation resources from Elder Zhu Qin. That was what let him reach late-stage Golden Core.

Shi Ji Cai’s lip curled as he added with bitter scorn: “If Elder Zhu Qin had taken me as a personal disciple, I could have done the same.”

The stranger shrugged and stated the simple, cutting truth: “But you did lose. The disciples in the stands saw it, and the sect elder saw it too.”

Shi Ji Cai’s hand tightened. A saber flashed into his grip, the tip leveled at the man as he growled: “Are you looking for a fight? Good. I need a punching bag.”

The man shook his head and held his palms out lightly: “You misunderstand. I’m not here to make trouble. I’m here to help you.”

Shi Ji Cai barked a derisive laugh and tossed his head: “Help me? You?”

He swept the man with a contemptuous glance and said: “An early-stage Golden Core wants to help me? With what? Can you secure me a slot in the grand tournament? If not, then get out of my sight. Say one more word and I won’t be polite.”

He turned to leave, face like ice.

Seeing this, the man dropped the pretense and spoke directly: “Maybe I can’t hand you a slot. But if I could make your cultivation soar in a short time so you could flatten Zhong Jue, would you be interested?”

Shi Ji Cai’s steps halted.

He turned his head slowly and asked, voice low: “What did you say?”

The man did not elaborate. He flicked a jade slip toward Shi Ji Cai and said: “Everything you want is inside. Whether you use it is up to you.”

Shi Ji Cai caught the jade slip, his face still grim. His fingers tightened, loosened, tightened again. He seemed to consider throwing it away, but in the end he did not. Without another word, he strode off.

Watching him leave, the man pursed his lips and whistled, a sliver of wicked amusement curling his mouth as he murmured to himself: “The eleventh.”

He tilted his head and added with a chuckle: “So this is the elite of the number-one sect. No more than this, really.”