Chương 147: Chapter 36: Ascending the Martial Arena, Life and Death Beyond One's Control

Reyn inclined his head in a gesture of measured respect, his posture a perfect synthesis of humble deference and iron-willed composure.

"Since this is the decree of the Manifest Saint, I shall naturally comply," he stated, his voice cutting through the tension of the hall like a whetted blade.

"I accept this challenge."

"Excellent!" Mu Shen replied, a flicker of approval dancing in his ancient eyes. He rose from his seat with a sharp flourish of his robes, the silk whispering against the stone floor.

"Follow me to the Martial Arena. To ensure absolute impartiality, I shall personally serve as the Arbiter for this duel. Let no man claim the heavens were blind this day." As the procession moved toward the exit, the trio from the Purple Mist Sect converged on Reyn. Li Zhupu's gaze was a toxic slurry of resentment and wounded pride.

"Little bastard," she hissed, her voice a jagged shard of ice.

"I told you I'd see you dead. Don't even dream of walking off that stage alive. Your life ends today, beneath the dust of the arena." Beside her, Qing Huo let out a low, guttural laugh that sounded like grinding stones.

"Rest easy, Junior Sister. I'll vent every drop of that frustration for you. Once I've broken his limbs, I'll extract his soul and refine it within my flames. I'll cast his essence into the void of reincarnation until there's nothing left of him but ash and regret." Yang Dawei, however, remained uncharacteristically silent. His brow was deeply furrowed as he scrutinized Reyn's retreating back. That calm—that terrifying, unshakeable stillness—sent a primal prickle of dread crawling down his spine.

He let out a low, cold huff, masking his growing unease with a mask of stoicism. Once the Purple Mist disciples had moved ahead, Xing Tianxie of the Pomie Sect stepped alongside Reyn, his voice a barely audible murmur.

"Be cautious, Daoist Reyn. Qing Huo is the third disciple of their Great Elder, a man known for his cruelty. He practices the Blazing Flame, an Earth-grade Mid-rank fire manual that turns spiritual energy into white-hot destruction. He recently broke through to the Mid-Foundation Establishment stage. Rumor has it the sect bestowed a low-grade magic treasure upon him specifically for this journey. Its synergy with his fire arts is devastating; it doesn't just burn—it incinerates the very air."

Without waiting for a response, Xing Tianxie offered a thin, knowing smile and walked away, his cape billowing behind him. Reyn stood still for a heartbeat, a cold clarity settling over his mind. He understood the game now. In the distance, Yang Dawei pulled Qing Huo aside, his expression grim.

"Brother, be vigilant. My intuition is screaming that this Reyn is hiding a monstrous depth. Do not underestimate him based on his cultivation level." He paused, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"The sect sent word via jade slip—Junior Brother Mo Shuaishao was indeed slain days ago. They are investigating the culprit, but we cannot afford another loss. Do not let your guard down for even a second." You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Qing Huo's eyes flashed with a predatory, murderous light.

"Relax, Senior Brother. My arrogance is but a mask to bait the fool. Once the fight begins, I will show no mercy. Besides..." He leaned in closer, his voice thick with malice.

"Junior Sister has lent me the artifact the Sect Master gave her before we departed. Even if he has a hidden trump card, that treasure will turn him to cinders before he can even blink." Li Zhupu, her face now restored by medicine but her heart still twisted with venom, added, "Kill him, Senior Brother! I cannot bear to see him breathe another minute of the world's air!"

"Haha, rest assured, Sister," Qing Huo laughed, his confidence radiating like a physical heat....

"Senior Brother Xing," a thick-browed cultivator from the Pomie Sect asked, "why warn him? Do you truly think a stray cultivator like him can match a genius like Qing Huo?" The young woman beside him, You'er, bit her lip, her eyes filled with a soft concern.

"That Li Zhupu is wretched. Using such underhanded schemes because she lost... Brother, if things go south, you have to find a way to help him." Xing Tianxie sighed, rubbing his chin as he watched the arena gates open.

"You'er, don't worry. I have a feeling about this Reyn. Standing near him makes my blood run cold, as if I'm standing before a sleeping beast. Who will walk away? It's too early to say. But my gut tells me the one standing at the end will be the man from the Xuanxiao Sect." His juniors were stunned. Xing Tianxie was famously arrogant, yet here he was, giving Reyn such a staggering evaluation. The thick-browed cultivator's face turned solemn, realizing the weight of his brother's words....

"Upon the Martial Arena, life and death are no longer your own. The heavens are the witness, and the earth is the grave," Mu Shen declared from the high seat, his voice echoing across the stone expanse.

"If neither has objections, let the duel commence."

"No objections," the two combatants replied in unison. Qing Huo blurred, landing on the stage with a heavy, bone-jarring thud that cracked the paving stones. Reyn's eyes sharpened, a dark, lethal intent swirling in his pupils. He vanished in a streak of azure light—the Demon Flash Escape—reappearing ten paces from his opponent with ghostly silence. I came to the Mu family for a chance at Foundation Establishment, not to court trouble, Reyn thought, his mind a cold engine of tactical analysis.

But these people insulted my sect and my home. I have no regrets for striking back. Li Zhupu is the daughter of a Sect Leader; she won't stop until I'm dead. They knew the rules of this arena. They brought me here to execute me under the guise of a fair duel. His gaze locked onto Qing Huo, seeing not a man, but a target. Killing Mo Shuaishao was an accident of fate, but there is no turning back now. If they want blood, I will give them a massacre.

I will kill Qing Huo, cripple their strength, and show every soul here that crossing me is a death sentence. I will carve my name into their fear. Today, Qing Huo dies. Reyn looked up, his eyes like frozen stars in a winter sky.

"Die!" Qing Huo roared, slapping his forehead. A crimson cauldron erupted into the air, radiating a heat so intense the atmosphere warped like a desert mirage. The ground beneath him began to glow a dull, angry red.

"The Fire Snake Cauldron!" someone gasped from the stands.

"Venerable Red Flame's signature treasure!"

"The old monster actually gave it to him? With his Blazing Flame technique, even a Late Foundation Establishment cultivator would be incinerated instantly!" The crowd trembled as the temperature in the arena skyrocketed. Against such a legendary relic, Reyn looked like a lone leaf standing before a forest fire. But as the flames rose, the man from the Xuanxiao Sect didn't flinch; he only narrowed his eyes, his hand drifting toward his storage bag.