Xian Lihua, seeing the overwhelming destruction caused by Hei Xu and his command unit, charged to the front lines with her five lieutenants, halting their rampage.
Hei Xu smirked. "So the strong ones finally step out. I take it if you fall, we pass this death trial?"
Xian Lihua raised a brow. "And what gave you that idea?"
Murakami Jin chuckled, blades resting across his shoulders. "All six of you who appeared are emitting pressure at the peak of the Flesh and Bone Forging stage. Judging from how your Sentinels are keeping their distance, I assume none of them are foolish enough to interfere in what's about to happen."
Xian Lihua gave a curt nod. "For someone who doesn't look particularly smart, you're not entirely dumb. Yes—defeating me and my commanders will allow you to bypass the rest of this chain. Consider it a reward for your performance thus far. You've only lost ten from your group, but the damage you've inflicted on my army... it's my duty to put you down."
Hei Xu scoffed. "Weak-hearted. You had the numbers to bleed us dry, but you stepped forward so early. Clearly, you believe we can't be taken down now. She's going to enjoy breaking that delusion. I pity you."
With that, Hei Xu turned, his gaze locking onto the three lieutenants on Lihua's right.
Murakami Jin laughed as he adjusted his stance, stepping toward the other two. "Let's have some fun."
Xian Lihua blinked, confused. "It seems neither of you intend to fight me directly. I hope this isn't some childish refusal to battle a woman. I'll warn you—being underestimated is something I do not take kindly. Especially from brats still beneath my cultivation."
She raised her hands, and with a flash of red light, summoned her Death Arms—twin chained blades that hissed with killing intent. The pressure she released cracked the air like lightning, befitting a peak-stage cultivator.
Before another word could be said, a cold, composed voice echoed through the haze of war.
"Apologies for keeping you waiting, Commander. I assure you, those two meant no offense."
A figure emerged from the shadows—cloaked in flowing obsidian robes, her beauty ethereal, lethal. Her every step exuded confidence and silent threat.
"But your opponent is me."
Yan Mei stood tall, her eyes sharp as the daggers in her hands. Her Death Arms materialized—twin blades as dark as the void itself, swallowing light rather than reflecting it. A wave of pressure surged out from her, matching Lihua's own.
Xian Lihua's eyes narrowed. "Another girl at the peak of the realm, huh? You sure about this, little one?"
Yan Mei smiled coolly. "That's what they all say… right before they bleed."
Around them, chaos raged. But in this moment, all sound seemed to fall away as two deadly women stepped into the eye of the storm.Perfect.
As Yan Mei and Xian Lihua squared off, the battlefield erupted behind them like a volcano's second breath.
Hei Xu stood at the center of it—three of Lihua's lieutenants surrounding him like wolves eyeing prey. The air twisted unnaturally around him, shadows spiraling like living serpents. His eyes gleamed with madness and thrill.
"So, the three of you think it's a fair fight?" he said, voice cold. "Let me show you what Void Arts really means."
He raised a hand, and the space between them collapsed.
A wave of darkness surged outward—Void Collapse. The ground beneath the lieutenants' feet cracked, then folded inward as if the earth was being devoured by an invisible beast. Two of them leapt back, barely avoiding the gravitational pull, while the third—a hulking brute with iron gauntlets—charged forward undeterred.
Hei Xu grinned.
With a flicker, he vanished—reappearing above the gauntlet wielder, slamming a void-infused fist into his shoulder. The impact twisted the man's entire upper body as a sickening crunch echoed out, followed by a blast of black mist that ripped through his armor.
The two other lieutenants unleashed coordinated strikes, blades and chains slicing through the air. But they struck nothing—Hei Xu had phased out, slipping through space itself.
"Void Step," he whispered as he reappeared between them, elbows cocked.
A ripple of explosions followed—dark energy detonating like mines in their guts, launching them across the battlefield.
Meanwhile—
Murakami Jin stood still as a statue, blood splattered over his clothes, his blades humming low with hunger. The two remaining lieutenants approached more cautiously. One carried a spear coated in flame, the other wielded twin crescent axes with wind-cloaked arcs.
Jin smiled—slow and eerie.
"Come on then," he said, twirling one of his long knives. "The more you cut me… the stronger I get."
He dashed in, faster than either expected, dragging one blade across the ax-wielder's chest in a shallow slash. The blood flared, not just from the wound—but from Jin's own body. A red aura surged around him, muscles tightening, eyes glowing crimson.
The spear-wielder struck from behind—flames licking toward Jin's spine.
But he twisted, laughing, letting the fire graze his side.
Another cut.
More power.
Jin's aura flared again. He swept his blade wide, parrying the axe, then used the momentum to drive his other weapon deep into the spear-wielder's thigh. Blood erupted. His strength surged further.
"Flesh feeds the blade," he muttered. "My blades… feed me."
The two lieutenants backed off in panic now—realizing too late the mistake of trading even a scratch.
And yet—
Even amidst this chaotic dance of blood and void, the most dangerous fight of all was unfolding at the center:
Yan Mei and Xian Lihua moved like phantoms, their clash shaking the very air.
Blades met chains. Dagger swipes sliced the air, vanishing into shadow. Xian Lihua's chained Death Arms spun like vipers, covering yards with each swing. But Yan Mei was faster—vanishing into flickers of dark mist, leaving afterimages that bled real killing intent.
"You're fast," Xian Lihua admitted, voice calm despite the strain. "But are you strong enough?"
Yan Mei didn't answer.
Instead, she twirled and released her blades. They flew like twin comets—twisting through the gaps in Lihua's chains. One struck her shoulder, the other grazed her ribs.
Xian Lihua winced, but yanked the chains back—forcing the daggers out.
Yan Mei caught them mid-air.
And smiled.
Behind them, Hei Xu brought down a void storm, his three opponents now bloodied and battered, space around them cracking like shattered mirrors. Murakami Jin, now pulsing with strength, laughed through crimson teeth as his enemies grew weaker.
But none dared interfere in the duel at the center.
Because between Yan Mei and Xian Lihua…
Only one would leave standing.