Foolish

"Have you ever considered this?" Zhao Linchuan's voice suddenly turned cold, his gaze sharp as lightning. "If you knew you were no match for your opponent, or were already in critical condition, yet still foolishly insisted on taking their killing move head-on, only to die..."

"What would those who cared about you do?" The words were like an icy needle, piercing a corner of Bibi Dong's heart she had never truly considered.

"You... you're twisting words!" Bibi Dong was left speechless for a moment, a trace of barely perceptible confusion flashing through her purple eyes.

"Fine." Zhao Linchuan suddenly sheathed his sword and drifted several yards backward. "Let's do this by the 'rules.'"

"This time, I won't dodge. I'll take your Spirit Skill head-on."

"Then, it'll be my turn for one move."

"Please."

"Fine!" Flames ignited in Bibi Dong's eyes as she suppressed that fleeting abnormality. Her Soul Power gathered without reservation!

Third Spirit Skill—Death Spider Web Restraint!!

A massive purple-black spiderweb, its edges flowing with venomous ghostly light, descended toward the motionless Zhao Linchuan with a shrill tearing sound!

Sure enough, Zhao Linchuan neither dodged nor evaded! Just as the web was about to reach him—

Buzz—!

A clear Sword Cry resounded throughout the arena!

The Azure Light Demon-Slaying Sword in his hand became a blurred mass of light!

Horizontal, vertical, diagonal, upward slash... in an instant, no one knew how many strikes he had unleashed!

Sss! Sss! Sss! Sss!

The incomparably tough Death Spider Web was, before everyone's horrified eyes, shredded by the azure-green Sword Light like tofu, becoming countless purple-black fragments that scattered through the air!

"What?!" Bibi Dong's pupils abruptly shrank to pinpoints!

An unprecedented chill instantly swept through her entire body!

She wanted to retreat!

But it was too late!

Zhao Linchuan's figure vanished from where he stood like a Ghost Charm!

The next moment—

A cold, bone-piercing sharpness pressed against the pale skin at the back of her neck Without Warning!

The shadow of death instantly enveloped her!

"..." Bibi Dong's entire body stiffened. Even her breathing stopped.

She could clearly feel the chill radiating from that azure sword. So long as he willed it...

"Hm?" Zhao Linchuan seemed to notice something. His left hand holding the sword remained utterly still, while his right hand swept through the air with lightning speed.

A strand of hair, precisely severed by Sword Light and carrying a faint light wine-red gleam, was caught between his fingertips.

He looked toward the dumbfounded referee. "Shouldn't you... announce the result?"

"Give it back to me!" Bibi Dong suddenly spun around, her voice carrying a trace of embarrassment, anger, and urgency that even she failed to notice, completely forgetting the threat at her neck.

"I concede! Give it back!"

That severed strand of hair seemed more important than victory or defeat.

"...The victor! The Black-Clothed Protector!" The referee swallowed with difficulty before loudly announcing.

"Farewell, Miss. Let's count today as your Soul Power being insufficient. We'll fight again another day." Zhao Linchuan gave her a deep look. Azure Light flashed at his fingertips, and the severed hair vanished.

Before his words had even faded, his figure had already turned into a blurred azure shadow. After several flashes, he disappeared into the passageway at the edge of the arena.

He could clearly sense three powerful, hostile presences locking onto him like bone-clinging maggots—two Titled Douluo and one Soul Douluo!

This place... was not suitable for lingering.

The real battlefield lay outside the city!

On the arena

Bibi Dong stood on the empty arena, a faint flush of embarrassment and anger spreading across her exquisite face.

She had never experienced such a complete defeat, much less been... toyed with before the eyes of everyone!

A suffocating resentment with nowhere to vent surged into her heart. She instinctively stomped her foot hard!

Crack!

A crisp snapping sound rang out.

The slender, exquisite heel of the luxurious cinnabar-red high-heeled shoe on her foot snapped cleanly under the force of her humiliation and fury!

The elite disciples from Spirit Hall who had come with her caught sight of this shocking scene from the corners of their eyes, and their scalps instantly went numb!

Like well-trained puppets, they all swiftly turned their backs in unison.

Some raised their heads to "focus" on studying the patterns of the Spirit Arena's dome, while others lowered their heads to "carefully" inspect the cracks in the floor.

Still others began passionately discussing such meaningless topics as how nice the weather was today.

The air seemed to freeze—what had they just seen?!

Her Highness the Saintess, cold as frost and looking down upon the world... actually had such a... girlishly flustered side!

And she had even snapped her heel!

The scene was far too horrifying. It had to be forgotten immediately!

"Hmph ╯^╰!" Bibi Dong stared at the broken heel, embarrassed and annoyed, letting out an extremely coquettish snort completely unsuited to her status.

As though seeking symmetry, she petulantly stomped hard again!

Crack!

The heel of her other shoe was also declared ruined.

Now both shoes were "flat."

She took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing her turbulent emotions and maintaining the last trace of a Saintess's poise.

She kicked off the "restraints," went barefoot, and walked down from the arena with slightly awkward steps, though her back remained straight.

Every step felt as though she were treading on scorching branding irons, burning her pride.

The instant her figure disappeared into the passageway, the disciples who had faced away from her finally breathed out in relief as though granted amnesty.

Their rigid bodies relaxed, and they exchanged looks of having survived a disaster.

Then they erupted into irrepressible, animated "discussion," still entirely devoid of substance, but loud enough to cover any possible guilty unease.

In the Spirit Arena work area, Supervisor Francis excitedly slapped the metal railing, the fat on his face trembling. "Wonderful! Wonderful! Not only did I save my job this time, I even made a damn fortune!" His voice cracked slightly with excitement.

The reason was simple: Zhao Linchuan had placed nearly every bit of the hefty "token of appreciation" from the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect on himself.

Although the amount was slightly imperfect, the shrewd Francis had very "considerately" and secretly made up the difference for him.

An astonishing 1-to-19.9 payout! Even after the Spirit Arena's enormous five-percent commission, Zhao Linchuan would still net more than eighteen million Gold Soul Coins!

Such a windfall was enough to drive anyone mad.

Moreover, Francis had gritted his teeth at the time and used his authority to mobilize Spirit Arena funds, placing a bet of one hundred thousand alongside him!

Francis seemed to see mountains of gold and silver piled before his eyes.

He wished he could immediately erect a longevity tablet for that Black-Clothed Protector!

Francis laughed wildly in his heart. "That lord is simply brilliant!"

"Thankfully, he didn't reveal his Soul Rings!"

"Otherwise, those gambling dogs who lost their minds would've torn the Spirit Arena apart!"

"This match was handled perfectly!"

Desolate wilderness, moon hidden and stars sparse

Zhao Linchuan's figure came to a stop in an open area littered with jagged rocks.

The night wind swept past, carrying the scent of grass, trees, and earth.

He could clearly sense two presences relentlessly pursuing him.

One was a cold, shadowy presence clinging to him like a disease in the bone, unbelievably fast. It was clearly the Titled Douluo known as "Ghost."

The other lagged far behind, its Soul Power Fluctuation carrying the heavy, accumulated presence of an old clan. It was Wei Chang, the Soul Douluo responsible for "holding down the fort" at the Spirit Arena.

He cast his gaze toward a dense patch of tree shadows ahead and to the side, a playful smile curling across his lips.