Hundred Sects Tournament · Golden Core Finals (3)

In the depths of the dense forest at the southeastern corner of the Miniature Profound Heaven Sect, ancient trees twisted together like dragons, their vines hanging down like curtains. Thick canopies shattered the daylight into scattered fragments, while the air was filled with the damp scent of soil and humus, mingled with the crisp fragrance unique to grasses and trees.

"Rustle..."

The faintest friction of shoe soles brushing lightly through the grass came from two different directions almost simultaneously, breaking the stillness.

On one side of the forest, Ling Anxin stopped instantly. Her right hand seemed to hang casually by her side, yet at some point, a jet-black, slender but tough cord had silently wound itself around her fingers. The diamond-shaped dart tip at its end suddenly flashed with a streak of icy light amid the thin patches of sunlight filtering through the leaves.

The aura around her instantly withdrew into nothingness, turning her into a motionless shadow among the trees. Only her eyes, sharp as needlepoints tempered in fire, pierced through layers of branches and leaves and locked firmly onto the tall figure that had just emerged from behind a tree opposite her.

At nearly the same instant, Su Zhaoyang saw Ling Anxin and halted. An indescribable aura, utterly unlike that of living beings, lingered around him—not cold or sinister, but an excessively tranquil, almost empty "void."

That aura rippled soundlessly like circles on water, becoming invisible tendrils of perception that gently yet swiftly swept across the surroundings.

When it touched that undisguised, condensed, almost tangible sharp battle intent, the fingers hidden in his sleeve curled ever so slightly. A point of deep, shadowy soul-light had already silently gathered and solidified in his palm.

He raised his head, revealing a refined yet somewhat pale face. His eyes were clear