Worthy of the Sword Douluo, Renowned Across the Continent

Yang Jian looked at Chen Xin and suddenly smiled.

The smile was cold.

"I only said I'd give you a chance to live. I never said I would definitely spare you."

Chen Xin and Gu Rong's expressions changed at the same time.

"You!" Gu Rong struggled to stand, but the searing pain from his broken leg made him collapse again. He glared at Yang Jian, his eyes filled with fury and despair.

"Despicable!"

"Despicable?" Yang Jian raised a brow. "The two of you, one level ninety-five and the other level ninety-six, joined forces to kill a twelve-year-old child like me. And that isn't despicable?"

Gu Rong was speechless.

Chen Xin's face was ashen, fear and rage intertwined in his eyes.

He knew that today, they were likely doomed.

He took a deep breath and prepared to risk his life.

Even if he could not defeat Yang Jian, he would at least drag Yue Guan down with him.

Yang Jian took in every change in his expression.

Then he suddenly changed the subject.

"However..."

Chen Xin and Gu Rong both looked up.

"You've helped me as well." Yang Jian looked at them, the corner of his mouth curling up slightly. "How about this? I can let one of you go."

"But which one it will be, you can discuss that yourselves."

Chen Xin and Gu Rong froze.

Yang Jian raised one finger. "Oh, and don't entertain any ideas of making a last stand. Otherwise, neither of you will leave here alive today."

The air seemed to freeze at that moment.

Chen Xin and Gu Rong exchanged a glance. The despair in their eyes turned to hesitation, then hesitation turned to wariness.

They looked at each other.

There was something in their gazes that had never been there before.

Doubt.

Guardedness.

Hostility.

Yang Jian watched the scene, and the smile on his lips deepened.

He turned and walked toward the carriage, tossing out a sentence without looking back.

"I'll only give you the time it takes for one incense stick to burn."

"When the time is up, if you still haven't decided, then neither of you needs to leave."

Yang Jian leaned quietly against the carriage, his eyes closed, as though he did not care in the slightest about the fates of these two Titled Douluos.

But he knew full well that the time it took for one incense stick to burn was enough to expose human nature completely.

Chen Xin and Gu Rong looked at each other.

They had been friends for decades. Since their youth, they had faced life and death together, served the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect together, and clawed their way out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood together.

They were comrades, brothers, the people each trusted most.

But now, they saw the same thing in each other's eyes.

Fear.

The fear of death.

Just then, Yang Jian's voice rang out again, slow and unhurried, carrying a hint of indifference. "It's only natural to fear death. You don't need to feel embarrassed about it."

Chen Xin and Gu Rong's breathing caught at the same time.

"I've changed my mind."

Yang Jian opened his eyes, a cold smile on his lips. "Whoever says the other should die first gets to live."

"If neither of you says it, then both of you die."

Chen Xin and Gu Rong's expressions changed again.

"Then let Chen Xin die first..."

"Then let Gu Rong die first..."

The same words burst from their mouths almost instinctively.

The moment the words left their lips, both men froze.

They stared at each other, their expressions shifting from shock to disbelief, and then into something indescribable.

Decades of friendship.

It seemed to vanish completely in that instant.

But since they had already spoken.

There was no turning back.

"I said it first!" Gu Rong was the first to react, his voice hoarse and urgent. "I said it first!"

"Bullshit!" Chen Xin's face flushed red. "I was clearly the first to speak!"

"You're talking nonsense! This old man said it first!"

"Old Bones, have you no shame?"

The two level ninety-five Titled Douluos were now bickering like shrews haggling at a market. The composure and majesty they once possessed were gone, leaving only their naked desire to survive.

Yang Jian watched the scene and sneered.

"I've changed my mind again."

The arguing stopped abruptly.

Chen Xin and Gu Rong both looked at him, fear and rage in their eyes.

Yang Jian raised one finger, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Now, whoever wants to live must kill the other."

"Otherwise, I'll kill both of you."

Chen Xin's pupils contracted sharply.

Gu Rong's breathing grew heavy.

"You!" Gu Rong gritted his teeth, his voice trembling from the agonizing pain in his broken leg. "You're just playing with us! You never intended to let us go!"

"You've been toying with us from the very beginning!"

Chen Xin's gaze turned cold as well, his hand pressing against the hilt of the Seven Kill Sword.

But Yang Jian remained unmoved.

He began to count down.

"Three."

Chen Xin's hand trembled.

He looked at Gu Rong, and Gu Rong looked back at him.

Brothers of decades—were they really going to come to this?

"Two."

A flash of resolve appeared in Gu Rong's eyes.

His martial soul was the Bone Dragon, famed for its defense.

If he fought to the death, perhaps...

"One."

"Pfft—!"

The sound of a blade piercing flesh was clear and piercing.

Gu Rong's eyes widened as he looked down at his chest.

The Seven Kill Sword had stabbed in through his back and pierced his heart. Its tip protruded from his chest, dripping blood.

He slowly turned his head and saw Chen Xin's deathly pale face.

"You..."

Gu Rong's lips trembled as blood continuously spilled from the corners of his mouth.

He had already been in an abysmal state.

He had not been able to react to that strike at all.

"I'm sorry." Chen Xin's voice was so hoarse it was nearly inaudible. "I don't want to die."

Gu Rong opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but only coughed out a mouthful of blood.

His body began to lose strength, and the light in his eyes faded bit by bit.

He stared fixedly at Chen Xin, his eyes wide open, his lips moving soundlessly as though he wanted to say something—but he would never be able to say it.

"Bang."

Gu Rong's body fell to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

He was dead.

His eyes remained open.

Chen Xin stood where he was, looking at Gu Rong's wide, staring eyes, as though his entire being had been hollowed out.

His hand was still trembling. Drops of blood fell one by one from the Seven Kill Sword, making faint sounds as they struck the ground.

Brothers for decades.

Today, just to survive.

He had killed him with his own hand.

Chen Xin's eyes grew unfocused as countless images flashed through his mind.

Drinking together in their youth, fighting together, discussing the future beneath the moonlight.

Those scenes flickered before his eyes like a lantern carousel, then shattered and dissipated, never to be pieced together again.

"Clap, clap, clap."

Applause rang out.

Yang Jian clapped his hands, an appreciative smile on his face, as though he were watching a wonderful performance.

"Well done." His voice was sincere and admiring, without the slightest trace of mockery. "Worthy of the Sword Douluo, renowned across the continent. You act decisively."

"I always keep my word. You survived."

Chen Xin raised his head and looked at this twelve-year-old boy, his eyes filled with complicated emotions.

He did not know what to say.

Gratitude?

Hatred?

Or regret?