Chapter 88: Ruthlessness

Within the imperial dynasty, wanton violence was strictly forbidden, especially within the city walls; even the most prestigious sects must obey the law. Yet exceptions were made: if one applied for a duel or a death-match on the arena, so long as the peace of the people was not disturbed, each contestant would entrust their fate to heaven.

On each side of the platform, the words “life and death” were engraved, accompanied by the seal of the county governor. This signified that this death arena had been officially registered. Once one stepped onto the stage, life and death were left to fate.

Jiang Fan stood atop the platform, surveying the surroundings. Beneath the stage, a crowd had already gathered.

“Cousin, among these spectators, at least seven or eight are ranked on the Heroes List!” Nan Gong Rou’s voice, condensed into a thread, reached him. “The River Demon’s massacre shook the land, and rumors spread privately that a great immortal opportunity lies hidden here—whoever obtains it may ascend to the immortal path. That’s why so many heroes have gathered. Just days ago, word spread that the immortal fate has fallen upon you. Cousin, it’s clear they want you dead. When you dueled Yuan Kun, we saw your extraordinary strength and let you take the stage, but who could have foreseen today’s situation? Since you’re already in the game, cousin, be resolute!”

Jiang Fan nodded lightly, cupped his hands to the crowd, and finally spoke: “I only wish to cultivate in peace, refining my qi, seeking immortality, hoping one day to break through the void and reach the immortal realm. Yet days ago, Yuan Kun came to my door to provoke me. My cousin took the field, but could not overcome him; helpless, I had to stand up and fight, and I won. I thought it ended there, but to force my hand, they suppressed my family’s business and even harmed my cousin. Do they truly think I am made of clay?”

“Since it’s come to this, I shall grant your wish and establish a death arena!”

“No matter who you are—even disciples of the Hidden God Sect, the Primordial Sect, the Supreme Sword School, Skull Temple, Demon Mountain, Devil Sect, or even imperial princes—so long as you step onto this stage, you will face life and death!”

“No retreat, no mercy!”

“Who will be first?”

Jiang Fan gripped his sword, gazing proudly at the crowd.

“I heard you obtained the immortal opportunity. Will you tell us about it?” a voice called from below.

“Come up here, and I’ll tell you,” Jiang Fan replied coldly. “If you won’t, keep your mouth shut—or else… heh!”

“Are you threatening me?” A young man soared into the air, floating as he strode toward the arena. His hair fluttered, exuding a carefree elegance.

“I am Chen Hao, ranked sixty-eight on the Heroes List!”

“Chen Hao? I recall that the day after I defeated Yuan Kun, you sent a challenge. Even now, you’re persistent!” Jiang Fan’s tone was indifferent. “Very well.”

“Yes, it is I. Will you speak of the immortal opportunity?” Chen Hao landed on the platform, one hand behind his back, the other gripping his sword, head held high, his robes billowing in the breeze. His face wore a sunny, handsome smile.

“If you survive, I’ll tell you!” As Jiang Fan’s words faded, his figure vanished.

“What—?” Chen Hao was startled, his sword spinning to defend, but it was too late.

With a sickening sound, Jiang Fan’s sword pierced Chen Hao’s back, then a powerful kick sent him tumbling from the heights. The corpse crashed to the ground, stirring a cloud of dust.

“Next!”

He flicked his sword; blood sprayed, gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

Below, silence fell abruptly.

Then, discussions erupted.

“Chen Hao has competed with his sword across the realm, rarely tasting defeat. How could he not withstand even a single move from Jiang Fan and be killed so easily?”

“Ranked sixty-eight on the Heroes List, the most favored disciple of the Divine Sword Sect, dead just like that?”

“Incredible!”

“Even the top ten on the Heroes List couldn’t kill him in a single move!”

“How strong is Jiang Fan, truly? Has he really only cultivated for a year? If so, he must possess the immortal opportunity!”

The crowd was abuzz with astonishment and speculation.

“Jiang Fan!” A woman’s sharp voice rang out, “You’re far too ruthless—do you truly dare to kill?”

She wore a veil, her features hidden, but her voice was melodious.

“Do you not understand what a death arena is?” Jiang Fan sneered. “On the death stage, life is forfeit. Whoever dares to step up intends to kill me. If he is my mortal enemy, if I do not die, he must. Are you suggesting I should have let him kill me?”

“You clearly outmatched him; you could have spared him, but chose to kill. You are ruthless, heartless, bloodthirsty—no different from the evil sects!” The veiled woman evaded the question, continuing her accusation.

“Come, step onto the stage, let’s debate face to face!” Jiang Fan beckoned.

“You—!” The woman hesitated, then twisted her body and lifted herself into the air, hovering without landing, but her voice was drawn into a thread, reaching Jiang Fan’s ear. “I am Du Yan, daughter of the Marquis of Pleasure in the imperial capital. Next, you’ll pretend to duel me for a hundred rounds, then lose. I can grant you prosperity and wealth. If you refuse, a word from me can destroy your Jiang family. The Jiang family may be esteemed in the county, but to the Marquis’s household, you’re nothing but bumpkins.”

Jiang Fan gave no answer, only regarded her with cold indifference.

Du Yan floated lightly onto the stage, approaching with graceful steps; this time, her voice was open. “Jiang Fan, if you kneel and beg, I’ll spare your life. Otherwise, heaven’s wrath will descend and destroy all!”

Her meaning was clear.

At the same time, she lifted her veil, revealing her true face. Instantly, her beauty dazzled the crowd, leaving many men stunned.

She advanced to within ten meters of Jiang Fan, then her hand flicked, and five points of cold light shot forth, reaching Jiang Fan in a blink, piercing through.

“What? Only an afterimage?” Du Yan was shocked.

A humming light radiated from her, her robes revealed as a magical garment, enveloping her in protection.

Jiang Fan had already arrived behind her at extraordinary speed. His eyes narrowed, and he poured all his strength into his sword, which now shone with a chilling gleam, revealing its terrifying edge.

This sword was the “Unity Blade” given to him by Nan Gong Rou. With this blade, his grievances toward her were mostly resolved, for it was a mid-grade magical weapon, holding a world within.

With a soft sound, the power of his fist techniques, his vast true qi, and the deadly intent of the sword were all channeled into the strike. The sword split the magical garment and pierced through Du Yan’s chest, stabbing straight into her heart.

“Why?” Du Yan’s body stiffened; she did not turn, but with her last strength, voiced her confusion.

“Off the stage, you pretended to be an innocent, naive girl,” Jiang Fan’s voice was low. “In the sky, you played the part even more, acting as a privileged noble, hoping to make me underestimate you, to make me fear you. But as a Dao-realm cultivator, would anyone truly be so foolish? Did you take me for an idiot? And lifting your veil, revealing your beauty—was it to make me hesitate, to stir mercy? Hah! Once you step onto the arena, you are a mortal enemy. Whether you are a marquis’s daughter or a fairy descended to earth—it makes no difference!”

“So I really was a fool. But I am indeed the Marquis’s daughter.” Du Yan gave a bitter smile, gazing up at the sky. “I truly don’t want to die.”

As her words faded, her last breath left her.