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Chapter 50 - The Torture

Qin Wushang's lips curled into a weak grin. "You think you've won?" he rasped, "Fool." He raised the talisman higher, its glow intensifying.

Xu Qingyan's eyes flicked to the talisman. Her body tensed, her left hand clenching into a fist. Thin tendrils of ice began to form along her fingers, crackling softly.

Qin Wushang's grin widened. He spat a glob of blood onto the platform, then slammed the talisman against the ground. "Die!" he roared.

The talisman ignited.

A blinding golden-red light erupted, swallowing the platform in an instant. A deafening boom shook the arena, the sound so loud it made the spectators clutch their ears. The blast wave tore through the stone like it was paper, sending chunks of debris flying. The shockwave hit Xu Qingyan head-on, lifting her off her feet. Her body spun wildly in the air, arms flailing, blood spraying from her wounds. She crashed into the platform twenty feet away, her back slamming into the stone with a sickening crunch. The impact sent a spiderweb of cracks spreading outward, dust rising in a thick cloud.

Yang Hao's eyes widened, just for a moment. He straightened, his foot dropping from the pillar. His right hand moved to the hilt of the short sword at his waist, fingers curling around the worn leather grip. He took a step forward, then stopped, his gaze cutting through the dust cloud. "She's dead," he muttered under his breath. "No one survives that."

The arena fell silent.

The dust began to clear, revealing the devastation. The platform was unrecognizable—a jagged, broken mess of shattered stone and smoldering ash. Small fires burned where the talisman's energy had scorched the ground, sending thin trails of black smoke into the air.

And then, a figure emerged.

Xu Qingyan.

She stood at the edge of the platform, her body a ruin. Her robes were gone, reduced to charred scraps clinging to her bloodied skin. Her entire body was raw, the skin peeled away to reveal glistening, burned flesh. Her right arm was completely missing, the stump oozing dark blood that dripped onto the stone with a soft plip-plip.

Her left leg dragged behind her, the knee bent at an unnatural angle, bone visible through torn muscle. Ice clung to her body like broken armor—shattered patches on her shoulders, cracked sheets across her chest, melted drips along her thighs. Her face was a nightmare: the left side blackened, the scar on her cheek now a deep, twisted gash. Blood streamed from her nose, her lips, her ears, pooling in the hollows of her collarbone.

But her eyes were alive.

Cold. Focused. Unyielding.

She took a step forward, her broken leg scraping against the stone. Her body trembled, each movement a battle against collapse. Her left hand twitched, frost forming and crumbling as her energy flickered. Blood dripped from her chin, splattering onto the platform.

Qin Wushang coughed, blood spraying from his mouth. His golden robes were singed, the fabric clinging to his sweat-soaked skin. His hands shook as he pushed himself up, his arms trembling under his weight. The talisman's backlash had drained him—his face was pale, his eyes bloodshot, his elemental energy nearly gone. He looked up, expecting to see Xu Qingyan's corpse.

Instead, he saw her walking toward him.

Her steps were slow, each one leaving a bloody footprint. Her left hand glowed faintly, frost swirling as an icy spear began to form—jagged, unstable, its edges cracking as it grew. Steam rose from her body, the heat of her burns clashing with the cold of her ice. Her eyes never left Qin Wushang, pinning him in place like a blade.

Qin Wushang's grin vanished. His mouth opened, then closed, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. "You…!" he stammered. He scrambled to his feet, his legs wobbling. His right hand fumbled at his waist, searching for another talisman, but his pouch was empty. Panic flashed in his eyes. He raised his left hand, summoning the last of his Earth Qi. The platform trembled, and a single stone spike shot toward Xu Qingyan, no bigger than a spear.

She didn't dodge.

The spike struck her chest, punching through her already-cracked ribs. Blood spurted, splashing onto the stone. Her body swayed, but her feet stayed planted. She took another step, the spike snapping as she moved. Her face didn't change—no pain, no fear, only that cold, unyielding stare.

Qin Wushang's eyes widened. "Stop!" he screamed, stumbling backward. His boots slipped on the blood-slick stone, and he fell to one knee. "Referee! Stop her! The fight's over! She's—she's insane!" His voice was shrill, desperate.

The referee stood frozen, his hands clenched at his sides. His eyes flicked between Xu Qingyan and Qin Wushang, then to the crowd, then back.

He decided to ignore it. Qin Wushang, used a talisman that shouldn't be used. According to rules, he should be killed but since Xu Qingyan was still alive, and seeing her determination, he decided to let her kill Qin Wushang if she could. Moreover, at this stage, it's impossible to save Xu Qingyan, so he would respect her determination.

The crowd was silent, their breaths held. A young boy in the stands, no older than ten, clutched his mother's arm, his eyes wide with fear. "Mama, is she dead?" he whispered.

His mother pulled him close, her own hands trembling. "No, child," she murmured. "But she should be."

Xu Qingyan kept walking. Ten feet away now. Her icy spear was fully formed, three feet long, its tip sharp but uneven, trembling in her shaking hand. Her body swayed with each step, blood pouring from her wounds, but she didn't stop. Her eyes burned into Qin Wushang, who was now crawling backward, his hands scrabbling at the stone.

"No!" he shouted, his voice breaking. "Stay back! I'm the crown prince! You can't touch me!" He flung another weak burst of Earth Qi, a handful of small stones that pattered harmlessly against Xu Qingyan's chest. She didn't even flinch.

Xu Qingyan stopped five feet from Qin Wushang. She raised her left hand, the icy spear dissolving into a cloud of frost. The frost swirled, condensing into hundreds of thin, needle-like shards, each no longer than a finger. They hovered in the air, glinting under the fading sunlight. Qin Wushang froze, his breath hitching.

"Please…" he whimpered, his hands raised in front of his face. "I surrender. I surrender! Don't—"

Xu Qingyan flicked her wrist.

The ice needles shot forward, a shimmering swarm. They struck Qin Wushang's thighs, dozens embedding deep into muscle. Blood sprayed, soaking his robes. He screamed, a raw, animal sound that echoed off the arena walls. His body jerked, his hands clawing at his legs, trying to pull the needles out. But before he could, Xu Qingyan raised her hand again.

A thick sheet of ice formed around his legs, encasing them from ankle to knee. The ice glowed faintly, then tightened with a sickening crack. His bones snapped, the sound sharp and clear. Blood gushed from the crushed limbs, pooling beneath him. Qin Wushang's scream reached a new pitch, his body thrashing, his hands slapping uselessly at the ice.

"Aaaaaaaahhh!" he wailed, tears streaming down his face. "Please! PLEASE! I surrender! I'm sorry!" His voice cracked, his words dissolving into sobs. His swollen face was a mask of terror, snot and blood mixing as he gasped for air.

Xu Qingyan didn't speak. Her face was blank, her eyes empty. She raised her hand again, slower this time. Her fingers trembled, the effort draining what little strength she had left. A new spear formed, two feet long, its surface rough and cracked. She stepped closer, her broken leg dragging, her body swaying dangerously.

Qin Wushang's eyes widened. "No… no, wait, WAIT!" he screamed, trying to crawl away. His crushed legs wouldn't move, leaving bloody streaks on the stone. He raised a trembling hand, summoning a weak shield of earth—a thin slab of rock that crumbled the moment Xu Qingyan's spear touched it.

She stabbed the spear through his right shoulder.

The ice punched through muscle and bone, pinning his arm to the platform. Qin Wushang howled, his body jerking. Xu Qingyan twisted the spear, grinding it deeper. Blood spurted, splashing her face, but she didn't blink. She pulled the spear out, the ice cracking as it came free, and formed another.

This one went through his left wrist.

Then his right hand.

Each strike was slow, her movements mechanical. Qin Wushang's screams grew weaker, his body twitching with each new wound. The crowd watched in stunned silence, some turning away, others unable to look but unable to leave. A woman in the stands vomited.

Xu Qingyan formed another spear, her hand shaking so badly the ice nearly fell apart. She aimed lower this time, her eyes flicking to Qin Wushang's crotch. He saw the movement and froze, his breath catching. "No… no, please, not that!" he sobbed, his voice barely human. "I was wrong! I was wrong! Don't—!"

The spear stabbed down.

Ice bloomed, encasing his groin. A second later, it shattered, taking flesh and bone with it. Qin Wushang's scream was unlike anything the crowd had heard—a primal, gut-wrenching wail that seemed to tear his throat apart. His body convulsed, blood gushing between his legs, soaking the stone. His eyes rolled back, his face pale as death, but he didn't pass out. Xu Qingyan wouldn't let him.

She crouched beside him, her body swaying, her breath coming in sharp, painful gasps. Blood dripped from her stump, her burns, her mouth, but she didn't stop. Her left hand reached forward, frost swirling as a thin blade of ice formed, no longer than a dagger. She pressed it to his face, the tip hovering over his left eye.

"Your eyes," she whispered.

Qin Wushang's sob choked off. "No… please…" he whimpered, his head shaking weakly. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

She drove the blade in.

His left eye burst, blood and fluid spraying. His scream was cut short as she stabbed again, popping his right eye. His body jerked, his mouth open in a silent wail, blood and tears streaming down his ruined face. He tried to raise his hands, but Xu Qingyan froze them, the ice spreading up his arms. She clenched her fist, and the ice shattered, breaking his forearms into jagged shards of bone.

One by one, she broke him. His ribs, cracked with a slow press of ice. His knees, shattered with a twist of her wrist. His spine, bent until it snapped. She didn't rush, didn't shout, didn't show anger. Her face remained blank, her movements precise, like a butcher carving meat. Qin Wushang's screams faded to choked sobs, then to gurgles, his body a twitching, bloody mess.

The crowd was silent, the air thick with horror. The referee stood frozen, his hands trembling.

Finally, Xu Qingyan raised her hand one last time. Her body was failing, her vision blurring, but she forced herself to focus. A single shard of ice formed, small and sharp, hovering above Qin Wushang's chest. His body twitched weakly, his breath a faint rattle. He was barely alive, a broken pile of flesh and blood.

She let the shard fall.

It pierced his heart, sinking deep. Qin Wushang's body jerked once, his head lolling to the side. His chest stilled, his eyes empty, staring at nothing.

He was dead.

Xu Qingyan stayed crouched for a moment, her hand still raised, blood dripping from her fingers. The ice on her body cracked, falling in small chunks to the stone. Her breath hitched, her body trembling violently. She stood, slowly, her broken leg buckling under her weight. She turned to face the crowd, her face a bloodied.

The crowd stared back, silent.

Xu Qingyan took a step forward, then another. Her body swayed, blood pooling beneath her.

Xu Qingyan's knees buckled. She collapsed, her body hitting the stone with a soft thud. Blood spread beneath her, soaking the platform. Her eyes fluttered, then closed, her breath slowing to a faint, before stopping.

(End of Chapter)

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