Calista appeared on the far side of the arena. She hadn’t even caught her breath when she saw it.
Renald inhaled—and sothing changed.
His chest expanded, shoulders tensed. The Qi that had lazily circled around him was suddenly pulled inward—silent, invisible. His muscles twitched, like every fiber had been tuned to an incomprehensible frequency.
And then he vanished.
Before Calista could think, her body was already moving.
"Fifth Petal — Lotus Path!"
The spot where she’d just stood erupted downward—as if sothing had struck with enough force to shatter stone beneath the surface. Cracks spread outward like a spiderweb, forming a crater shaped like a handprint. The air vibrated for a heartbeat, dust particles rising in a near-perfect circle.
Calista reappeared on the left side of the arena. Bent over, she struggled to catch her breath, her chest burning from the inside. Tight lungs, tense muscles, and the echo of a blow that nearly landed compressed the world into a single thought:
"I really hate body cultivators..." she hissed through clenched teeth.
They were beasts. Every move packed the force of a titan and the simple logic of destruction: annihilate anything that moved.
Dust rose where his punch had missed her by a split second. Renald glanced at the empty air before him—the corner of his mouth twitching faintly.
Then he vanished again.
It was a movent—but one the eye couldn’t follow. Like space itself had collapsed and hurled him forward in a single heartbeat. Even his shadow lagged behind. The air where he started split a mont later, leaving behind a faint trace—an echo arriving too late. Every muscle, every joint operated in perfect harmony, launching his body with rciless precision. Renald didn’t disappear. He tore through space.
Calista felt the pulse with a delay. Like a storm’s lightning arriving before the thunder. Her heart pounded faster—before she even knew why.
She didn’t have ti to search. She had to trust her instinct.
Another teleport. This ti—upward. A vortex of air swirled around her as she lifted into the sky—at the exact mont Renald blasted through the space beneath her, leaving behind a trail of vibrating Qi.
She landed with a grimace—but didn’t have ti to regain balance.
Renald moved. She did too. A flash. Another. Again.
Teleport—left. He was already there. Teleport—up. She felt his presence just behind her. Teleport—right beside him—dodging his fist by a hair, trying to strike his side in the sa second.
Gone.
Back again. Fingers clenched. Heart pounding like a war drum.
They spiraled around each other like cots. Her teleportations shimred through the air like cracks in reality. Renald tracked every flicker, every ripple. He chased. He tore through space, leaving behind shockwaves.
Every jump ended just a step before his strike. Every punch stopped just shy of her throat.
Ti ceased to exist.
Calista appeared above him, aiming a quick strike at his neck. Renald caught her midair. Her teleport yanked her away just before she would’ve been slamd into the ground.
She reappeared behind him—aid straight for the spot between his shoulder blades, where Qi pulsed slowest. But Renald reacted without hesitation. He shifted with instinctive precision, raised his arm, and blocked with his elbow—as if he’d predicted the move before it happened.
Calista vanished again—didn’t even try to press the attack. She knew he had read her. All that remained was a shimr and trembling air.
Then again at the edge of the arena. Then again in the center. Then one ter in front of him. Then two behind.
This wasn’t a fight.
This was a storm.
The audience didn’t even know where to look. Anyone below a certain cultivation level saw only flashes and bursts of Qi. Their figures blurred into the motion—beca part of it.
And then... everything changed.
Calista felt it. Too late.
No sound. No warning. Just a sudden burst of spherical Qi in his hand. Energy condensed at his core exploded outward with terrifying intensity—a blue sphere that warped the air around it, trailing light and pressure.
Renald appeared a ter in front of her so suddenly, ti itself seed to bend. His arm moved like the thrust of a collapsing universe—he released the sphere without a word, without a trace of hesitation.
She was hit in the chest.
"Idiot..." she hissed inwardly, feeling the air ripped from her lungs. "I thought that was his top speed..."
It wasn’t. That wasn’t his top speed. He had planned it from the start. Slowed down. Controlled his rhythm. Let her get used to a certain tempo. Every step, every teleportation—precisely asured. Not to hit her. But to create an illusion. Lull her senses. Make her believe she could keep up. And once she thought she knew his limits... he shattered them. At full speed. At the perfect mont.
Calista’s body flew back like a ragdoll. She hit the ground, rolled several ters, and stopped only to cough up blood.
"...Kh...!"
She tried to recover—but before she even processed what was happening, he was already there.
Renald had no intention of giving her a single second.
First strike—a knee to the ribs. She felt the cartilage crack, sothing inside her breaking from within. The pain was sharp, pure, like ti itself paused to amplify it.
Second—an elbow to the neck. Her head snapped sideways like it had lost support. For a fleeting mont, everything vanished: colors, sounds, the ground beneath her feet. Replaced by fog and a pulsing hum. Lights sparked behind her eyelids like soone lit sparklers inside her skull.
Third—a fist to the gut. It sank deep, like a wedge between her organs. She felt sothing shift inside her, Qi draining like water from a pierced flask.
And then ca the rest. One after another, like hamrs striking a glass statue.
She couldn’t find a rhythm. Each blow pushed her deeper into darkness. She didn’t even have ti to register the pain of each hit—everything blurred into one long, screaming pulse vibrating through every cell of her body.
She was just a punching bag. Renald didn’t stop. He kept going. Like a machine without fatigue—rhythmic, rciless—strike after strike, not even pausing to breathe. Calista knew she only needed one second. One short mont to stabilize her Qi. To regain control. To activate a technique. But Renald knew that too. That’s why he didn’t let her have it.
Her Qi scattered, unresponsive. Like it was trying to flee the pain, running from her.
"No... not yet..."
But it was a lie. She knew she had no strength left. Her body was wrecked, Qi in chaos, and every second brought her closer to unconsciousness. Black spots danced at the edges of her vision, like night trying to invade her sight.
Her knees buckled. One more hit and she would collapse. Just a little longer, and it would all be over.
She managed to raise her eyes—just in ti to see his next punch coming. His fist cut through the air like a blade forged from pure Qi, trailing a streak of energy so dense it sparked.
Everything was too fast. There was no ti to dodge. Nowhere left to go.
And then... sothing lit up.
On her hand—just beside her thumb—a crimson mark glowed like molten iron. Her Qi trembled, as if rembering who it belonged to.
Her eyes widened.
"...Mirror Bloom..." she whispered, spitting out the words like venom.
The words weren’t shouted. They were quiet. Heavy. But their echo rang like a sentence passed.
At that exact mont, his fist landed.
Renald’s punch struck her chest directly. The impact tore through her body and slamd it into the ground, as if she were a ghost of her forr self. A violent shockwave exploded outward, ripping the air apart and kicking up clouds of dust. The stone tiles beneath her shattered one by one, forming a deep crater.
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