The inner courtyard of the Crimson Flame Sect buzzed with excitement.
Disciples bustled between pavilions and spirit wells, trading spirit stones, sparring in the lower arenas, and boasting about who had passed the Outer Sect Trials with the highest score.
But all chatter stopped when the central bell rang.
Clang... Clang... Clang...
Three heavy tolls. That meant one thing:
A formal sect duel had been issued—one recognized by the elders.
Moments later, a name echoed through the air, carried by spirit transmission talismans:
> "Long Feng of Frostcloud Village, report to the Thunder Platform. You have been challenged to a public duel by Inner Disciple Bai Mo."
The crowd gasped.
"Bai Mo? From the Inner Flame Division?!"
"He's already at Qi Condensation stage 6!"
"Why would an inner disciple challenge a new outer disciple?"
"Is Long Feng insane to accept?!"
---
🏛️ Inner Courtyard – Thunder Platform Arena
The Thunder Platform loomed like a small mountain in the center of the courtyard, carved from obsidian stone and etched with lightning-shaped formations. It was a place where egos shattered—or soared.
Bai Mo stood at the center.
He was tall, elegant, and wore crimson inner disciple robes embroidered with silver lightning. His aura crackled with condensed spiritual pressure. He had a lazy smirk, like a noble addressing a beggar.
"I've heard much about you, Long Feng," he said, voice amplified through Qi. "Beating Yu Zhan? Breaking the Flame Path record? Passing the Spirit Vein Pool with dual Dao resonance?"
He scoffed.
"Unfortunately, outer sect rats don't know how to stay in their holes."
The crowd roared with laughter.
On the edge of the platform, Long Feng stepped into the arena without changing expression. His robe was still black. No fanfare. No fancy sword. Just him—and the faint ember of golden flame in his eyes.
He spoke calmly.
"You sound jealous, Bai Mo. Don't worry. I'll teach you how to breathe through a broken nose."
The crowd choked.
"What did he just say?"
"He's provoking Bai Mo?! He's courting death!"
"Even inner elders respect Bai Mo's potential!"
Bai Mo's smile twitched. "You're brave. I'll give you that. Let's see how long that mouth of yours lasts under my Thunderflow Palm."
---
⚔️ The Duel Begins
> Referee Elder: "Both disciples ready? The rules are simple. No killing—unless agreed. Winner is determined by surrender, unconsciousness, or ejection from the stage. Begin!"
BOOM!
Bai Mo vanished. Lightning surged through the sky. The air turned heavy.
He reappeared behind Long Feng and slammed a glowing palm toward his back—Thunderflow Burst, a spirit technique that paralyzed internal Qi upon contact.
But—
CLANG!
The strike hit a wall of flame.
The Vermilion Ember flared from Long Feng's skin, forming an Ember Shield around his core. The blow bounced off with a crackling spark.
Bai Mo's eyes narrowed. "You actually blocked it?"
Long Feng's expression turned sharp.
"You think this is a joke? I've fought gods. You're not even warm-up."
He stepped forward and struck out with his palm—Reverse Flame Spiral.
A red-gold vortex of spiritual fire shot toward Bai Mo's chest.
The inner disciple summoned a defensive talisman—but the flame ignored it. It coiled around the barrier and slammed him to the side of the platform.
BOOM!
Smoke exploded. Bai Mo rolled twice, coughing.
The crowd fell silent.
"He landed a hit?"
"That's not just fire… it bent around Bai Mo's defense!"
"What kind of flame technique is that?!"
Bai Mo stood, now frowning. His pride was wounded.
He pressed two fingers together, chanting quickly.
> "Thunder Art: Sky Lash – Third Movement!"
A blue spear of lightning formed in his hands, buzzing violently. He hurled it at Long Feng with the speed of thunder itself.
It struck dead-on—
—only to explode into harmless sparks.
Long Feng stood with his palm raised, flame twisting around it like a living serpent.
His voice dropped an octave.
"You should've brought five more of those."
And then—he vanished.
The crowd blinked.
Movement art? No… this wasn't a step technique. It was flame-assisted acceleration.
Long Feng reappeared above Bai Mo's head.
His foot came down like a hammer.
WHAM!
Bai Mo's legs buckled. He dropped to one knee, spitting blood.
Long Feng spun and slapped him across the face.
SMACK!
A thunderous echo rang across the arena.
Gasps. Then silence.
Then—laughter from the outer disciples.
"He slapped an inner disciple!"
"That was for all of us who've been bullied by those arrogant pigs!"
"He's insane! I love it!"
Bai Mo's spiritual energy surged wildly. His face twisted in rage.
"You dare humiliate me?! I'll cripple you!"
He reached into his robe and drew a hidden spirit blade, breaking the sect's rule.
The referee elder stood, about to intervene.
But Long Feng had already moved.
> "Reverse Sutra: Flame Locking Coil!"
Golden fire erupted from his palm, forming a twisting coil of flame that wrapped around Bai Mo's legs, arms, and throat. It slammed him to the ground in a spiral motion, pinning him like a chained beast.
Bai Mo gasped for air, eyes wide with disbelief.
He couldn't move.
His Qi was sealed.
His pride shattered.
> Referee Elder: "Enough! Winner—Long Feng!"
The flames vanished.
Long Feng stepped back calmly. The crowd exploded in chaos.
"Impossible…"
"He beat a stage 6 inner disciple…"
"What kind of flame is that?!"
Even the elders watching from the tower above whispered among themselves.
"That flame—it's not from the sect."
"Could it be... a divine-tier soul flame?"
"We must alert the Pill Pavilion."
---
🏮 After the Duel
Back in the resting courtyard, Mei Ling ran to meet Long Feng, worry flooding her face.
"You fought an inner disciple? Are you crazy?"
He looked at her, brushing soot from his shoulder.
"He drew a spirit blade in a fair duel. I merely responded appropriately."
She crossed her arms. "You're lucky he didn't try to kill you."
Long Feng's eyes narrowed.
"He did."
Silence.
Then a soft smile touched Mei Ling's lips.
"Well… I guess I'll just have to heal your future wounds then."
Long Feng paused.
He stepped closer.
"So, you're staying close to me now?"
She blushed. "If I don't, you'll probably set the whole sect on fire."
He laughed.
And above, in the cloud-covered towers of the Pill Pavilion, ancient eyes turned toward the boy who had slapped an inner disciple with flames from a forgotten age.