"It's time!" the twins urged again.
I froze, staring at the ten books spread before me. At the tenth stage of Qi Condensation, I had exactly one hundred Qi—enough for one technique. But which? Offensive? Defensive? Laughable. A Meridian Tempering cultivator could shatter my defenses with ease, and my attacks might not even scratch him. Huo's physical prowess was exceptional, even among cultivators. No, my only chance was the black flame born from burning impurities and the element of surprise. I'd already nullified a higher-rank technique with it—Elder Mo Shan could attest to that, and he was Core Formation. But last time, I barely controlled it. I needed to close the distance to my opponent. Decision made.
I grabbed Dance of Embers. Unlike another movement technique I'd found, which was a mere dash, this offered sustained acceleration, albeit modest.
Dance of Embers Rank: Mortal Cost: 100 Qi
The moment I confirmed the system prompt, agony tore through me. My Qi surged out, coalescing into the book, which flared and crumbled to ash. A thin energy channel linked me to it, flooding my mind with information at breakneck speed. I'd never have devised such a Qi application myself. This wasn't a technique manual—it was a puzzle.
"What are you doing?" Sho shouted.
"You didn't need to burn the book to test your technique," Cho added. "There are more civilized ways."
Did they not understand, or were they pretending? From their perspective, it must've looked like I'd recklessly expelled Qi and torched the book. Regardless, I wouldn't repeat this with witnesses. If I survived, that is. My odds had just nudged upward.
We left the library under the young librarian's venomous glare. My access to the Pagoda of Knowledge was likely revoked. Not that I needed it anymore, but it stung. The faint spiritual source there had been better than nothing.
The palace had transformed in my absence. Crowds thronged the grounds, laughing and smiling. A cultivator conjured vibrant dragons and tigers in the sky, but a majestic phoenix outshone them all. Right—I was in the Phoenix Sect.
"Moon cakes! Only one spirit stone!" a vendor shouted. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn't eaten in days. Qi could replace food, but not at my cultivation level.
"Buy me a moon cake," I said.
"We must—"
"Buy it. I'll eat on the way."
The twins didn't argue. They approached the vendor, tossing him a glowing pebble pulsing with spiritual energy. A spirit stone? It hit me—I'd just seen the local currency for the first time.
"Your cake," the vendor said, handing me a glazed, round pastry etched with a moon. I'd hoped for a few, but I didn't complain. The taste was odd, with a chicken yolk inside instead of filling. Strange stuff.
"What's the Moon Festival about?" I asked, finishing it. Another long pause. Did they forget I was clueless about the basics?
"The moon," Cho said, looking at me like an idiot.
"It's a family holiday celebrating the reunion of the Moon Goddess and her son," Sho clarified. "Relatives gather together."
I nearly laughed at the irony. Yes, my whole family would gather today—to watch me get slaughtered. A true family reunion.
The arena loomed ahead, a massive stadium adorned with intricate Asian flair but unmistakably a coliseum. Crowds of my "admirers" streamed in. The circular design must be universal across worlds.
Bypassing the main entrance, we approached a discreet door. A portly man, barely a cultivator, waited, his face souring at our arrival.
"What took so long?" he snapped. "This trash still needs to learn his lines!"
"Lines?" I smirked, anger simmering.
"Of course, you dimwit! First, apologize to the sect's servants and disciples. Then beg the elders for forgiveness on your knees. Finally, surrender to the victor!" he declared.
"You won't stop me if I try to kill him right now, will you?" I asked the twins.
"That would be… inadvisable," Cho said. "He's an excellent announcer."
"Fine," I nodded, activating Dance of Embers.
My body felt plunged into a furnace, every cell ablaze. The scant Qi I'd gathered during the walk drained rapidly. Orange cracks spread across my skin, and the world slowed dramatically. In a fraction of a second, I was before the fat man, my fist connecting with his face. He barely turned his head before flying into the wall. Pain flared, and the burst of speed ended. The man sprawled on the ground, cursing me with every word he knew. The twins looked… disappointed?
"You learned a technique and burned the book?" Cho raised an eyebrow.
"Perhaps Honorable Kai thinks burning studied texts is tradition," Sho mused. "Princess Lin may have set a poor example."
"Regardless, we part here," Cho said, nodding at the staggering announcer. "Su Tai will guide you."
"Lead on," I said, approaching him. He glared with hatred but didn't protest.
Beneath the arena, a maze of corridors stretched. Without a guide, I'd have been lost. We met no one, and Su Tai led me to a small room barred by a massive iron gate.
"When the gate opens, step out and bow to your opponent, the elders, and the audience—in that order," he said. "It'd be wise to say a few words—" I summoned Song of Pure Flame, fire wreathing my fist. "But it's not mandatory! Wait here!"
He backed away until he was in the corridor, then gestured. A thick iron grate slammed down, trapping me. No escaping now.
"Bastard Kai, I'll spit on your corpse!" he laughed, waddling off.
A righteous Daoist, was he? Where were the tales of heavenly paths, true Dao, virtue, and asceticism? I hadn't met a single "righteous" cultivator. Was it just the Phoenix Sect?
As I stood alone, the weight of Su Tai's words sank in. Why did his hatred burn so fiercely, and what secrets did this sect hide about my past?