The Samsara Jade

Chapter 47

The sun began to set behind the high peaks of the Azure Sword Sect. The sky turned a deep, dark red. The clouds looked like thick bruises bleeding into the evening air. Long, dark shadows stretched across the massive stone arena. The bright, warm light of the morning was completely gone. 

It was the perfect setting for a Life and Death match. The sky itself looked like it was preparing for a bloodbath. 

Thousands of disciples sat perfectly still on the high stone steps. They did not cheer. They did not whisper. They did not even move. The giant wooden drums in the corners of the courtyard were completely silent. 

In the center of the broken, melted stone stage stood Li Chen. 

He was as still as a stone statue. His long, black leather Enforcer coat blew softly in the cold evening wind. His dull, grey metallic skin caught the red light of the dying sun. He looked exactly like a demon standing in a pool of blood. He had not moved from that spot since he defeated Meng. He just waited. 

He was waiting to collect his debt. 

At the edge of the arena, the Outer Sect Leader and the old referee stood nervously. They held the glowing red Blood Scroll. They were waiting for the final fighter. 

Finally, the flap of the white healing tent pushed open. 

Zhao Feng stepped out into the bloody red light. 

The crowd let out a quiet gasp. Zhao Feng did not look like a boy who had just been punched so hard he vomited blood. He looked completely healed. He looked perfectly healthy. The expensive pills his grandfather gave him had fixed all his internal injuries. 

He also wore a brand new outfit. He wore bright white silk robes, lined with shining gold threads. The robes caught the wind and made him look like a heroic prince stepping down from the heavens. 

But Zhao Feng’s confidence did not just come from his clothes or his pills. 

Hidden deep inside the wide, long sleeve of his left arm, tied securely to his wrist, was the Soul-Piercing Fang. The dark, evil bone dagger felt cold against his skin. It pulsed with a sickening energy. It gave Zhao Feng an absolute guarantee of victory. 

Zhao Feng walked slowly toward the stone stage. He took his time. He wanted everyone to see how relaxed he was. He wanted the entire Outer Sect to know that he was not afraid of the grey-skinned monster. 

He walked up the stone steps. His clean white boots stepped onto the dirty, broken arena floor. 

He stopped exactly thirty feet away from Li Chen. 

Zhao Feng smiled. It was a wide, arrogant, completely cruel smile. He reached his right hand to his waist. 

SHING! 

The sound of metal sliding out of a sheath was sharp and loud. Zhao Feng drew his weapon. 

It was not a normal steel sword. It was a high-tier spiritual sword. The handle was made of carved white jade, shaped like a flying dragon. The long, straight blade was made of pure, shining silver. 

The moment the sword left its sheath, a powerful wave of bright blue wind magic rushed out of the metal. The blade glowed so brightly it hurt the eyes. The wind hissed and spun around the sharp edges of the sword, cutting the air itself. It was a treasure weapon, worth thousands of spirit stones. 

"Do you like it, Li Chen?" Zhao Feng asked in a loud, clear voice. He held the beautiful silver sword up to the red sky. "It is called the Sky-Piercer. My grandfather gave it to me this afternoon. It was forged in the deep fires of the Inner Sect. It is completely unbreakable. It can cut through solid diamond like a hot knife cutting through soft butter."

Li Chen did not say a word. He did not look at the glowing sword. He kept his hands in his pockets. His face was completely empty of any emotion. 

Zhao Feng lowered the sword and pointed the sharp, glowing blue tip directly at Li Chen’s chest. 

"You got very lucky in the Semi-Finals, little rat," Zhao Feng mocked. His voice carried across the silent arena. "You tricked Meng. You used a dirty, hidden trick to steal his air. You think that makes you a master? You think you can use the same trick on a 6th Level cultivator?"

Li Chen remained entirely silent. 

His silence made Zhao Feng slightly angry. Zhao Feng wanted Li Chen to yell. He wanted Li Chen to cry. He wanted Li Chen to show fear. 

Zhao Feng took a step closer, swinging the glowing blue sword casually by his side. 

"I know what you are doing," Zhao Feng sneered. "You are trying to act tough. You are trying to pretend you do not feel pain. But I know you, Li Chen. I know the weak, pathetic, crying little boy hiding under that ugly grey skin."

Zhao Feng reached into his own pocket with his empty left hand. He pretended to pull something out, even though his hand was empty. 

"I remember the sound your mother's jade pendant made when I threw it against the stone pillar," Zhao Feng said slowly, dragging out every single word to make it hurt more. "It was such a sad, pathetic little crack. Just like the sound of your ribs breaking under my boot."