Shin raised his hand and roared, "Begin!"
Riyal's wand shimmered gold, runes glowing across its length. The ground shook as ancient stone surged upward, shaping into a towering golem—twice Feng Yun's height, its fists as wide as carriages. Dust and debris danced around its feet as it stomped forward with thunderous weight.
Riyal leapt onto its shoulder, eyes gleaming with arrogance.
"Crush him!" he commanded.
The golem lunged with terrifying speed for its size. Its fist came crashing down like a falling mountain. But when the dust cleared—Feng Yun was gone.
Gasps swept through the audience.
"Where did he go?!"
"He didn't vanish," someone whispered. "He moved too fast for the eye to follow…"
A mocking voice echoed through the arena like a ghost on the wind."You're slow, Riyal. What happened to your confidence, genius?"
Riyal's expression contorted. "Damn you! I'll kill you!"
A flash of black.
Feng Yun reappeared beside the golem's upper arm. His katana pulsed with black Qi, dark and devouring. Without hesitation, he struck—piercing directly into the shoulder joint.
A deep crack echoed like a thunderclap.
Then—the golem crumbled.
Its massive frame collapsed in an instant, stone shattering and limbs tumbling. Riyal was thrown through the air, hitting the arena floor in a dazed sprawl.
The crowd was stunned into silence.
"How did he…?"
"He found the core," someone murmured. "Most golems have it in the chest—but he knew it was in the shoulder. One strike was enough."
In the royal box above, fear took root.
King Feng Han gripped the edge of his chair, his knuckles pale."T-that's not my brother… That's a demon in his skin."
The general's face was tight."My king… That sword aura, that movement speed—he's at the Fifth Stage, and yet even I, at the Eighth of the Awakened Path, couldn't replicate that."
Minister Van leaned forward, eyes flicking between the arena and the horrified king."My lord, we can't afford to—"
SLAP.
The king's palm crashed across Van's cheek.
"You're worried about appearances? My throne is slipping beneath me and you're preaching caution?! This is your doing. You kept saying the timing wasn't right. Should've killed him while we had the chance! Unless… unless you're with him now?!"
As they argued, the general's thoughts drifted."I once followed Feng Yun. He forgave his enemies, even those who didn't deserve it. But this… this isn't the man I served. He's colder. Smarter. Unstoppable."
Down below, the crowd murmured uncertainly.
Some booed Riyal's failure. Others were in awe of Feng Yun's display—defeating a prodigy five stages higher with ease.
Riyal staggered to his feet, bloodied but burning with fury. His voice cracked as he raised his wand toward Shin.
"I'll win next time! I… I promised my sister I'd make it to the finals…"
His lips trembled—not with anger, but fear.
"I gave—"
THUNK.
A sword pierced through his neck before the words could leave his mouth.
Blood spilled from Riyal's eyes. His mouth opened in disbelief, his trembling hand still reaching for the sky.
The crowd fell into stunned silence.
Feng Yun said nothing.
No one moved.
No one dared.
Even Shin froze.
Yichen, up in the stands, stared—shocked into stillness. This wasn't the father he remembered. This wasn't a man who hesitated.
Feng Yun calmly approached the corpse. He placed his hand atop Riyal's head.
"Devour."
A quiet ripple of void energy shimmered in his palm, invisible to most. A golden wisp of soul essence rose from Riyal's body and vanished into Feng Yun's grasp.
Using demonic or forbidden arts is punishable by death in the Feng Kingdom…
The system whispered:
| Ding... Congratulations, Host. You've advanced to Awakened Path – 1st Stage. || Two unknown skills detected. || Analyzing… || New Skills Acquired: [Serpentsteps], [Shura Sword Art]. |
Feng Yun exhaled. The power flooding his veins felt intoxicating. His spine straightened. His gaze sharpened.
"Ah… this is real strength."
Shin, shaking slightly, lifted his trembling voice."T-the winner of this match is… Feng Yun!"
For a breath, the arena was silent.
Then the cheers began—hesitant at first.
A handful stood and clapped, unsure whether to celebrate or stay seated. Others stared at Riyal's body, face-down in a pool of blood, a sword through his neck.
"He… he killed him without hesitation," someone whispered.
"But Riyal surrendered…" another murmured. "Didn't he?"
"No rules were broken," someone else countered. "Killing's allowed now."
Whispers turned to roars. Some chanted Feng Yun's name like he was a war god returned. Others watched with narrowed eyes, uncertain—awed, but afraid.
In the back rows, an old soldier crossed his arms.
"This isn't the same king we buried five years ago…"
A young girl clutched her mother's hand. "Mama, why didn't anyone help him?"
The mother looked away.
Shin tried to announce the next match.
But Feng Yun raised his hand. And the crowd fell silent.
He stepped forward, his black robe fluttering slightly.
"Citizens of the Feng Kingdom," he said. "This festival celebrates strength, does it not?"
The people murmured, uncertain but listening.
"But what if I told you the matches from this point onward are meaningless?"
A wave of confusion and curiosity swept through the audience.
"Instead," Feng Yun continued, "I offer something greater. A duel unlike any in our history."
He raised his katana—and pointed it directly at the royal box.
"I challenge the current king—my younger brother."
A hush. Then gasps. Then chaos.
"And the wager?" Feng Yun said, voice cutting through the noise. "Either my head… or his throne."
King Han barked a bitter laugh."Does he take me for a fool? I won't stake my life on a game!"
Feng Yun didn't flinch.
"You all remember who I once was—a weak man, broken by grief. A king who searched endlessly for a woman who vanished without a trace. A fool… who forgave everyone, even those who tried to kill him."
He gestured to his scarless, powerful form."But I'm no longer that man. I don't love. I don't forgive. And I don't kneel."
He stepped to the edge of the arena, voice dropping but somehow booming louder than before.
"You didn't inherit the throne, brother. You stole it. By putting me in a coma."
Gasps rippled across the crowd.
Feng Yun's voice dropped to a razor's edge."Shall I tell them why you really fear me?"
Han's face blanched.
Feng Yun pointed his blade again.
"You're the one who kidnapped the children of Yuana Church. You raped them. Sold them. You trafficked humans through Soliva City's underground like livestock."
Han shot to his feet, face red with fury and fear."LIES! WHEN DID I—HOW DARE YOU—?!"
"What the hell? Never in my life would I do such a thing!"King Feng Han's voice cracked like a whip through the arena, thunderous and defensive.
He stormed forward, rage boiling in every step, and pointed a trembling hand at his brother.
"Have you fallen this low, Feng Yun? Slandering your own blood?! Where's your proof?!"
A hush fell.
Eyes turned. Thousands of gazes shifted between king and challenger—some filled with doubt, others with expectation.
The arena itself seemed to hold its breath.
Feng Yun stood motionless, like a blade stabbed into the earth—cold, silent, unyielding.
"Proof?" he said at last, voice sharp enough to cut stone. "I saw it with my own eyes."
He paused—then raised his chin, speaking louder.
"But I know what you all truly trust is not my word. It is tradition. And tradition gives me the right to drag truth into the light."
The wind picked up, stirring the dust around his feet like restless spirits.
"In the sacred code passed down by our ancestors—it is written: When a man cannot offer proof, let blood decide. Let the God of War, Ares, pass judgment in a death match. The guilty shall be cursed by divine fate."
Gasps rippled like waves across the crowd.
Feng Han's jaw clenched. Sweat glistened on his temple."He actually studied the sacred rules…?" he muttered under his breath, lips dry.
Feng Yun's voice remained flat, merciless."What's wrong, little brother? Afraid? Perhaps you know that the gods do not favor liars."
The crowd ignited.
"Trial by the God of War!""Let the gods decide!"
In the royal box, no one dared speak.
The last man who gave advice was still nursing the king's slap. Even Minister Van kept silent, his eyes flicking nervously toward the general.
The general said nothing.
But deep down, something in him shifted.
This is no longer a battle for honor. This… is a reckoning.
Without a word, King Feng Han leapt from the royal box.
He landed with thunderous impact. Dust flared up around him. The crowd erupted into wild cheers.
Two brothers stood across from one another. One bearing pride. The other—emptiness.
They were nearly identical. Same eyes. Same height. Same presence.But one was hollow.And the other was afraid.
Feng Han stripped off his royal robe, revealing sleek black battle garb. He sneered.
"You should've stayed in your grave, brother. Now you'll suffer slower than death."
Feng Yun said nothing.But his gaze was ice.
Han's smile twitched. A sliver of unease passed through him.
"No… That's not Feng Yun. Not anymore. Something darker has taken root in him."
Han seized his spear and barked at Shin.
"What are you waiting for?! Or should we wait for sunrise?!"
Shin bolted toward the arena, nearly tripping in his rush.
"Y-yes! By ancient decree, this match will be judged by Lord Ares!"
He lifted his trembling hand toward the audience.
"The challenger: Feng Yun, Mortal Path—Fifth Stage.""The king: Feng Han, Awakened Path—Fifth Stage."
A murmur of disbelief buzzed through the crowd.
"An entire realm difference?""Feng Yun's insane.""He won't last ten seconds."
Near the back of the crowd, a man quietly laid a bag of silver on a betting table.
"All of it," he said. "On Feng Yun."
The bookmaker raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"
The man just smiled.
Shin raised his hand.
"BEGIN!"
The arena exploded in roars and drums.
But neither man moved.
They stared.
Locked.
A battlefield of will.
Then Han scoffed. "Still glaring at me with those dead eyes?"
And hurled his spear.
Feng Yun shifted. Graceful. Effortless.
The spear passed behind him like a shadow.
Then Feng Yun drew his katana—and sliced open his palm.
Gasps tore through the air.
"What's he doing?!"
Blood dripped onto the floor. But it didn't splatter.
It hovered.
Then twisted—like a serpent—and slithered back into his hand.
Forming a monstrous crimson greatsword. Pulsing. Living.
Feng Yun rested it against his shoulder, letting it gleam under the sun.
"Blood Art: Crimson Claymore."
Han's sneer faltered.
"He knows forbidden techniques…? That's impossible."
With a flash, Han reappeared beside his spear.
CLANG!
Steel met steel. Sparks rained.
They vanished and reappeared again—twenty strikes exchanged in a heartbeat.
No one could follow.
Even the generals stood still, mouths parted.
The two brothers stood once more—chests heaving, sweat beading.
Han stepped back, eyes narrowing.
"I'll end this."
He surged with golden light.
"Feng Spear Art: Five-Stage Dragon Thrust!"
His spear twisted into a glowing gold staff, a spectral dragon roaring to life around it.
It lunged.
Feng Yun ducked—too late.
Its claw raked across his shoulder. Blood sprayed. He fell to one knee.
Before he could rise, Han crashed his foot into the wound, launching Feng Yun into the barricade.
The impact cracked stone.
Dust rose.
Everyone held their breath.
When it cleared—only Han stood.
He raised his glowing spear to the sky.
"See?! The God of War has chosen! I STAND. HE FALLS!"
The crowd hesitated.
Then a man laughed. "See?! Told you Feng Yun was all talk!"
But Shin didn't declare victory.
Neither did the general.
Neither did the minister.
Han glared at the announcer. "Well?! SAY IT!"
A voice rose. Cold and steady.
"He's not the fool."
From the rubble… a figure stepped out.
Bloodied. Bruised.
Alive.
"It's you."
Gasps exploded.
"Feng Yun…!"
The minister's eyes widened in horror.
"That sword… it's longer. That isn't our kingdom's technique."
The general clenched his fist.
"He's still standing after that? And Han…"
He looked at the king's trembling shoulders.
"…Han's already spent. That dragon art drained him completely."
An elderly man sitting with a stick in his hand and rubbing his white beard said, "This isn't a fight between brothers," but no one could see him because he appeared to be beyond mortal sight. It marks the beginning of something much darker.