Immortal Paladin

”Out of bounds!”

Liang Na’s voice echoed across the arena.

Elder Pan Xia shot up from his seat, stomping hard enough that the wooden flooring beneath him creaked in protest. For an old man, he sure moved like an angry toddler.

I imagined he was angrier at Lu Gao than at Jia Yun.

Jia Yun losing didn’t seem to upset him as much as Lu Gao being the one responsible for it.

I had a suspicion that Elder Pan Xia’s relationship with Jia Yun was the opposite of what they were portraying. But that wasn’t what the others saw.

Long Xieren let out a laugh. ”Ha~! Running away like a brat… Poor Jia Yun had dissapointed her Elder. Pan Xia was always like that. He should learn how to be steady. He isn’t getting any younger.”

Lei Fen, sitting with an air of quiet amusement, commented, ”And here I thought the Cloud Mist Sect and the Sword Canopy Sect have been allies.”

Long Xieren scoffed. ”That’s all good and true, but in name only.”

Lei Fen arched an eyebrow. ”Moreover, now that Jia Yun has virtually lost, isn’t the disciple of your sect now all alone, suffering a disadvantage?”

I turned back to the arena.

Huo Jun was indeed in a rough spot. It was now a two-on-one scenario.

Huo Jun fought from two sides, his sword moving in a blur as he blocked and countered. Lu Gao’s relentless offense forced him into an increasingly smaller space, while Fan Shi’s unpredictable chains snaked toward him, cutting off any openings he might have used to escape.

He was like a cornered rat.

Long Xieren chuckled. ”How about a bet?”

I glanced at him. This guy was either too confident for his own good, or Huo Jun had a trump card at the level Jia Yun had shown.

The way I saw it, the only reason Jia Yun lost was because she had shown too much of her abilities in the quarter-finals—pushed to do so because of the betting.

If I knew any better, I was fairly certain that Fan Shi would suffer the same fate soon.

I wasn’t wrong.

Lu Gao flicked his sword and slashed at Fan Shi.

No hesitation. No warning.

There were no rules against attacking your teammate, after all.

Classic xianxia. Betrayal could happen in a heartbeat.

Lei Fen scoffed. ”Lu Gao taking potshots at Fan Shi—what kind of teamwork is that? What’s the point of pairing them up if he’s just going to attack her?”

Ren Jin leaned back slightly, maintaining a composed demeanor. ”There were no rules suggesting otherwise.”

Lei Fen shot him an incredulous look. ”You’re telling me you deliberately allowed this nonsense?”

Ren Jin sighed. ”It’s our first time trying this tournament format. We didn’t have time to polish the rules as much as I would have liked.”

Long Xieren smirked. ”Don’t be so uptight, Elder Lei. Lu Gao’s probably playing the long game. He plans to beat Huo Jun himself, leaving Fan Shi to claim the final point by finishing off Huo Jun. That way, in the finals, Lu Gao will be fighting a mentally unstable and injured Fan Shi.”

Lei Fen narrowed his eyes. ”You seem awfully nonchalant about a disciple of your own sect getting beaten up.”

Long Xieren shrugged. ”Huo Jun knew what he was signing up for. If he gets hurt, he’ll just have to live with it.”

I imagined there were things in this world that couldn’t be healed, even with the mystical techniques cultivators wielded.

Jia Yun’s injuries from the quarter-finals had been untreatable with their current methods, according to what I’d heard from Pan Xia himself. If I hadn’t offered a helping hand, she wouldn’t have her cultivation today. I imagined the injuries Fan Shi was suffering from were something you couldn’t heal for over a day.

If I were Fan Shi, I would have withdrawn at the first sign of betrayal. No point in sticking around when your so-called teammate turned their sword on you.

Fan Shi was clearly outgunned. Lu Gao was leagues ahead in both power and technique. If this were back in Lost Legends Online, and I had the benefit of respawning, I’d have tried to clinch a victory, maybe get a lucky hit in before going down. But this wasn’t a game. Losing here wasn’t just a matter of dropping some XP and running back from a spawn point. It was too deadly.

Not that I would let Fan Shi croak if I could help it.

Ren Jin watched the match with mild interest. ”The tide of the fight has turned.”

Fan Shi had adapted quickly, using Huo Jun as cover. She didn’t have the luxury of trusting her teammate anymore, but she wasn’t stupid enough to fight alone. Whenever she could, she supported Huo Jun, throwing in attacks to keep Lu Gao on his toes. The two-versus-one had suddenly turned against Lu Gao.

I smirked. ”That’s what you call karma, I guess.”

Lu Gao had an interesting skill. Each time he unleashed a sword wave, it wasn’t just an attack—it was a tether. The energy from his strikes didn’t just dissipate; he could call it back, redirecting it unpredictably mid-fight. It was like throwing a dagger and having it boomerang back at his enemies.

Huo Jun, on the other hand, conjured sword constructs, hovering weapons of pure energy that followed his will. With each motion of his blade, the constructs moved with precision, attacking and defending simultaneously.

Fan Shi? She was… trying. Psychic Bolts flew from her fingertips, invisible forces of mental energy meant to disrupt her opponent’s mind and body. Her chains lashed out, enhanced with Mind Over Matter, twisting and striking as if they had a will of their own.

And yet, she wasn’t hitting anyone.

Long Xieren leaned back, smug as ever, and glanced at Lei Fen. ”At this point, your sect’s disciple is just a nuisance.”

Lei Fen didn’t react, but I caught the slight twitch of his fingers.

Long Xieren continued, clearly enjoying himself. ”She’s at the fourth-star, fighting against two eight-star cultivators. That’s an impossible gap. They’ve already seen what her strongest technique can do, so they know what to look for. It’s strong, but not invincible.”

He wasn’t wrong. Soul Rend was powerful, but it had its limitations. The first time Fan Shi had used it, it caught people off guard. Now? Lu Gao and Huo Jun weren’t giving her an opening to land a clean hit. Fan Shi could swing those chains all she wanted, but if they never reached their target, it was just wasted energy.

The battle was reaching its turning point.

And Fan Shi was dangerously close to being left behind.

Huo Jun’s sword constructs multiplied with time. Every minute that passed, another blade materialized at his command, stacking onto the three he had initially summoned. It was a slow, patient build-up, but the longer he fought, the deadlier he became. At this point, he had five spectral swords orbiting around him, waiting for his command.

And his focus was shifting.

Fan Shi was the easier target. Between her psychic attacks missing their mark and her chains failing to land a decisive hit, she was looking more and more like a liability in this battle. Huo Jun had started directing more of his attacks toward her, probing her defenses.

Lu Gao, meanwhile, had eased up. He wasn’t pressing the attack as aggressively anymore. Instead, he was watching. Waiting. Looking for weakness.

It didn’t take a genius to see where this was headed.

I leaned forward. ”Just asking… but what happens if Lu Gao beats the two of them simultaneously? His two competitors wouldn’t get a point to advance in the finals, and that makes him the sole winner.”

The air grew heavy with silence.

Ren Jin’s expression stiffened. Lei Fen frowned. Even Long Xieren, who had been lounging in his seat, sat up slightly.

No one had considered that possibility.

Ren Jin exhaled sharply, rubbing his chin in contemplation. ”If Lu Gao wins like that… it would be the greatest upset in the history of this tournament. The Seven Grand Clans have been suppressed for a long time. The three major sects have always maintained dominance over the continent, but if the Lu Clan produces a champion—especially one that beats disciples from both the Sword Canopy and Isolation Path Sects in a single strike—” He let out a low chuckle. ”That would shake things up.”

And Lu Gao technically had beaten the Cloud Mist disciple too.

Lei Fen’s scowl deepened, but he remained silent.

I didn’t blame him. It was one thing for a sect disciple to lose in a fair fight, but it was another for a rogue element like Lu Gao to dismantle the tournament structure itself.

On the stage, Huo Jun suddenly clapped his hands together.

A technique materialized.

The five swords orbiting him flickered and multiplied—five became ten, ten became twenty, then twenty-seven. They hovered in the air for a brief, eerie moment before they all homed in on Fan Shi like a storm of steel.

At the same time, Huo Jun rushed at Lu Gao, hoping to pin him down before he could retaliate.

But Lu Gao had foreseen this.

He raised his sword high above his head. A dark-red aura pulsed along the blade, the scent of sulfur filling the air.

Then, with all his might—he swung down.

The sword energy roared, a singular, devastating arc of power slashing down, perfectly aligning both Huo Jun and Fan Shi in its path.

For a fraction of a second, I wondered if they were about to be cut in half.

Then—

Long Xieren vanished from his seat.

He reappeared on the stage, catching the descending sword strike in his bare hand. The energy sputtered against his palm, straining but ultimately failing to cut through his defenses.

Lei Fen wasn’t late to react either. He materialized beside Fan Shi, his sleeve billowing unnaturally.

From within it, something emerged.

A coffin.

It expanded in an instant, dark and heavy, planting itself between Fan Shi and the incoming sword storm. The impact was thunderous, the combined force of Lu Gao’s and Huo Jun’s attacks splitting the arena floor in half.

Dust and debris filled the air.

For a moment, no one spoke.

The drama unfolded in front of us without much fanfare.

Huo Jun staggered back, his face ashen. A thick cough wracked his body before he spat out a mouthful of blood, staining the already shattered arena. Long Xieren had managed to deflect most of the sword energy, but not all of it. The remnants had torn through Huo Jun’s defenses, rattling his internal organs.

He fell to one knee, clutching his chest, struggling to catch his breath. Despite the clear pain, his grip remained firm on his sword, as if sheer willpower alone would keep him standing.

The arena, or what was left of it, was split apart. Cracks ran deep into the stage like a gaping wound, the lingering energy still buzzing in the air. Lu Gao stood there, sword resting on his shoulder, looking completely unbothered by what had just happened.

On the other hand, Long Xieren was livid.

”You arrogant little—” He stormed toward Lu Gao, hand raised, clearly intending to slap the young master across the face.

I thought that was a bit too much. Winning wasn’t a crime. Sure, Lu Gao had been reckless, but slapping him for it? Overkill.

Flash Step.

I vanished from my seat, reappearing in front of Long Xieren in an instant, my hand catching his wrist mid-swing.

”That’s a bit too much, isn’t it, Daoist?” I said, gripping his arm just tightly enough to let him know I wasn’t moving.

Long Xieren’s eyes narrowed as he met my gaze. ”He tried to kill the disciple my Sect raised with love and care!” His voice was sharp, almost shaking with rage. ”He’s a Third Realm cultivator who has been deliberately suppressing his skills! If that attack had landed, Huo Jun and Fan Shi would have died!”

…Well.

That changed things.