Defeating Nalan Yanran (Part Two - 4,300 Words)

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Xiao Yan looked at her and spoke.

"Nalan Yanran, I'll give you a chance."

His voice was not loud, yet it reached the ears of everyone present with perfect clarity.

"You challenge me. If you win, I'll take back everything I just said, dissolve the engagement, and kowtow to apologize to you."

He paused, the corners of his lips lifting slightly.

"If you lose, I want nothing else. I will divorce you, and from this day onward, you will no longer be my, Xiao Yan's, fiancée."

When these words reached Nalan Yanran and the people who had followed them over, they all felt the same thing.

Arrogance.

Utter, absolute arrogance.

Who was Nalan Yanran?

She was the personal disciple of Yun Yun, the Misty Cloud Sect's leader. She cultivated the sect's finest techniques and Dou Skills, consumed medicinal pills personally refined by Pill King Gu He, and even the weakest elders assigned to spar with her were Dou Spirit-level experts.

Her resources, her background, and her platform were things that Xiao Yan, a youth raised in a small Wutan City clan, could never compare to.

How could she possibly lose to Xiao Yan? To a Xiao Yan who had been crippled for three years, had never taken a single medicinal pill since childhood, and cultivated only the lowest Yellow Tier techniques and Yellow Tier Dou Skills?

"Xiao Yan, you're truly arrogant!" Xiao Yan's dismissive tone ignited Nalan Yanran's anger. "Do you think being one star above me means you're guaranteed to win?"

"Arrogant?"

Xiao Yan chuckled. There was no anger or mockery in his smile, only a condescending pity, like a dragon looking down upon an ant roaring at it.

"Nalan Yanran, if I hadn't been crippled for three years and my Dou Qi hadn't declined, I would already be a Dou Master by now, perhaps even a Great Dou Master."

His tone was as calm as if he were stating a truth proven countless times.

"And you are merely a Three-Star Dou Practitioner."

"If not for those three years, you wouldn't even be qualified to challenge me now."

Nalan Yanran opened her mouth, wanting to retort, but found that something seemed to be lodged in her throat.

Xiao Yan was right.

Xiao Yan had reached Eight-Star Dou Fighter at the age of eleven. Had he not been crippled for three years, with his talent, he would certainly have entered Canaan Academy or joined some other top-tier faction.

With the resources of such forces supporting him, Xiao Yan becoming a Great Dou Master at fifteen would have been far from impossible.

As for Nalan Yanran, she had only barely reached Three-Star Dou Practitioner at fifteen by relying on the Misty Cloud Sect's resources.

No amount of medicinal pills or renowned teachers could bridge that gap in talent.

The Xiao Clan members who had followed over stared at Xiao Yan in utter shock.

Was this still the youth they knew?

The Xiao Yan who was gentle and polite, who never put on airs as a genius, and who treated everyone courteously?

His appearance was clearly identical, yet was this sharp-edged, confident, and proud person before them truly Xiao Yan?

Or was this his true self?

Were those three years of gentleness, restraint, and humility merely the silence of a wounded young beast licking its wounds?

Now that his wounds had healed and his fangs had fully grown in, he no longer needed to hide or endure.

Unable to outargue Xiao Yan, Nalan Yanran could not be bothered to waste more words.

She raised her hand, and her longsword left its sheath. The blade drew a cold arc beneath the sunlight. Dou Qi surged into her feet, and her body became as light as drifting fluff as she rushed toward Xiao Yan.

Intermediate Mystic Tier Dou Skill, Flying Floc Movement Technique.

Her body seemed to lose all weight. Every step landed lightly on the ground, her speed astonishing and her movements erratic, making her impossible to track.

At the same time, wind-attributed Dou Qi gathered around her sword once more. Green light flowed along its edge with a faint hum.

Intermediate Mystic Tier Dou Skill, Wind Spirit Splitting Sword.

Nalan Yanran twisted her wrist. For every inch her longsword moved, it left behind a sword-shaped afterimage in the air that seemed almost solid.

One, two, three—three phantom energy swords hung in the air, complementing the true sword in her hand as though four swords were aimed at Xiao Yan at once.

"Wind Spirit Splitting Sword!"

With a sharp cry, Nalan Yanran slashed out with the three phantom swords and the true sword in her hand at the same time.

The energy swords tore through the air with piercing whistles. Pale green arcs of energy split forth from their tips, and the three sword-shaped afterimages linked end to end like a meteor descending from the heavens, blasting toward Xiao Yan with fierce force.

Xiao Yan's expression did not change.

He raised both hands, his ten fingers slightly bent as his index fingers stabbed out in succession.

His movements seemed casual, as though performed on a whim, yet each jab sent an invisible sword aura shooting from his fingertips.

Lingxi Sword Fingers.

The sword auras were invisible and formless. There was no light, no sound of air being torn, not even a trace of Dou Qi fluctuation.

They were like assassins in the night, silently approaching their targets. Only those struck would understand their sharpness.

"Clang, clang, clang—"

The invisible sword auras collided with the phantom energy swords in midair, erupting with crisp metallic clangs.

The three phantom swords shattered one after another beneath the precise strikes of the Lingxi Sword Fingers, turning into green specks of light that scattered through the air.

The final invisible sword aura grazed past Nalan Yanran's ear, carrying away a strand of her hair.

She abruptly turned her head. The sword aura barely swept past her cheek, and a boulder more than ten meters behind her silently gained a finger-thick hole, its edges as smooth as a mirror, as though pierced by a red-hot iron rod.

Nalan Yanran's pupils contracted sharply.

She touched her face in lingering fear. Only after confirming that she was uninjured did she let out a breath.

But when she looked at Xiao Yan again, every trace of contempt had vanished from her eyes, replaced by deep wariness and shock.

What kind of Dou Skill was that?

It was invisible, formless, and silent. She could not even sense any Dou Qi fluctuation.

If her instincts had not been sharp enough for her to turn aside in time, that strike would likely have pierced not the boulder, but her head.

How had a disciple of a small Wutan City clan learned such a Dou Skill?

But Xiao Yan gave her no time to think.

He used Explosive Step again. The instant the blue bricks beneath his feet exploded, he appeared before Nalan Yanran like a ghost.

His fist, wrapped in scorching Dou Qi, smashed down with a piercing howl.

Eight Extremes Collapse.

Nalan Yanran's pupils shrank. Xiao Yan was too fast—so fast that even she, a Three-Star Dou Practitioner, could not see how he had approached.

What she did not know was that Xiao Yan had already cultivated the Intermediate Mystic Tier Dou Skill Explosive Step to the perfected realm.

At perfection, Explosive Step was no slower than ordinary High Mystic Tier movement Dou Skills. Combined with his formidable body comparable to a One-Star Dou Master, the speed he could unleash was far beyond Nalan Yanran's ability to follow.

Caught off guard, Nalan Yanran could only rely on the muscle memory honed through years of training and raise her sword horizontally before her.

"Clang—"

Fist and sword collided, scattering sparks.

A mountain-toppling force surged through the blade. Nalan Yanran felt her palm go numb, and her entire arm lost all sensation.

The tremendous force sent her flying backward. Her feet plowed two deep furrows across the ground, and she retreated more than ten meters before barely managing to stop.

Looking down, she saw that the fine-quality longsword in her hand was covered in dense cracks like a spiderweb.

The blade trembled faintly, giving off a low hum as though it might shatter at any moment.

"So strong..."

Nalan Yanran raised her head and looked at Xiao Yan ten steps away, her eyes filled with disbelief.

"Why? Why can someone from a small clan, someone who was crippled for three years, be this strong?"

Her voice carried a trace of unwillingness, a trace of confusion, and something she herself refused to admit—fear.

Xiao Yan did not answer her question.

He stood there as sunlight fell across his shoulders. Not a shred of Dou Qi leaked from his body. He simply stood there, yet he gave off an oppressive feeling like an insurmountable mountain.

His eyes were calm as ancient wells. There was no pride or mockery in them, only an innate confidence and composure, as though the outcome of this battle had been decided from the very beginning.

"Nalan Yanran, you have no chance of winning. Admit defeat."

Nalan Yanran gritted her teeth.

Admit defeat?

She was the personal disciple of Yun Yun, the Misty Cloud Sect's leader, a genius upon whom the entire sect had placed great hopes.

How could she admit defeat here? She could surrender to anyone else, but never to Xiao Yan.

If she admitted it, that letter of divorce would become real. For the rest of her life, Nalan Yanran would bear the label of being divorced, unable to hold her head up in the Misty Cloud Sect or throughout the Jia Ma Empire.

"I still have one move left."

She raised her head, her eyes turning resolute.

She lifted the cracked longsword in her hand, slowly pointing its tip toward the sky. At that moment, all the Dou Qi around her surged forth without the slightest reservation, forming a pale green halo around her body.

The blade rose inch by inch, as though drawing upon some invisible force.

Sunlight from the sky began to gather at the sword tip.

At first, it was merely a faint glimmer, but it quickly grew brighter and brighter.

The sword was filled with sunlight, radiating dazzling golden brilliance like a blazing sun held in her hand.

When the gathered energy reached its peak, the light on the sword suddenly surged.

That light was so dazzling that it overshadowed the sun in the sky.

The entire backyard was bathed in gold, and everyone instinctively narrowed their eyes.

Rampaging energy condensed at the sword tip into an incomparably sharp sword aura. Carrying a destructive presence, it crashed down toward Xiao Yan.

High Mystic Tier Dou Skill, Wind's Extremity: Sunset Glow.

This was Nalan Yanran's strongest trump card and her final gamble.

A golden-red gleam flashed through Xiao Yan's eyes.

"Good."

His voice was calm as water, but beneath that calm surged something intensely blazing.

He raised his right hand, and a ball of flame appeared from thin air in his palm.

Its color lay between gold and red. It was scorching but not violent, warm but not searing, like sacred fire burning upon the wings of an ancient divine beast, containing the supreme mysteries of life and death revolving in endless cycles.

Undying Divine Flame.

The flame condensed, stretched, and took shape in his palm—becoming a longsword.

The sword was formed entirely from pure flame. Golden-red radiance flowed endlessly across its blade, and every flicker radiated a terrifying heat.

Flame-Congealing Sword Art.

Xiao Yan swung his sword.

The golden-red sword aura collided violently with Nalan Yanran's Wind's Extremity: Sunset Glow in midair.

At the instant the two attacks collided, heaven and earth seemed to lose all sound.

There was no explosion, no roar. Only a visible ripple of energy spread outward from the point of impact in every direction.

Wherever the ripples passed, blue bricks were torn from the ground, flowers and grass were uprooted, and spiderweb cracks appeared across the courtyard walls.

It was an impact beyond the limits of vision.

Then the sound caught up.

"Boom—"

A deafening explosion erupted in the backyard. The shockwave swept outward, carrying shattered stones and dust with it.

Everyone was forced back again and again by the blast. Some raised their arms to shield their faces, some used Dou Qi to protect their bodies, and some covered their ears.

No one dared open their eyes.

Smoke and dust filled the air, obscuring everyone's vision.

When the smoke finally began to disperse, the scene in the field clearly appeared before every pair of eyes.

Xiao Yan stood proudly in the center of the field.

Several tears had appeared in his robes from the earlier impact, and his hair was slightly disheveled, but his back remained straight, his breathing remained steady, and those golden-red eyes remained calm as water.

The flaming sword in his hand had already vanished. Only a few golden-red sparks danced at his fingertips, as though he had merely completed an insignificant warm-up.

Ten steps away, Nalan Yanran knelt on the ground.

Her longsword had shattered completely, its fragments scattered across the ground beside her and reflecting the afterglow of the setting sun.

Her moon-white robes were covered in dust, her hair was disheveled, and the pride and defiance from before had vanished from her face.

She supported herself with both hands against the ground, gasping for breath. The Dou Qi within her had been entirely drained, and her strength had reached its limit.

She knelt there with her head lowered, like a lifeless statue.

She was still immersed in her own defeat and had yet to recover.

"Yanran... lost?"

Ge Ye stared at the scene before him, his lips trembling slightly and his eyes filled with disbelief.

He could not believe this outcome. Nalan Yanran, the personal disciple of the Misty Cloud Sect's leader and a Three-Star Dou Practitioner, had lost to a youth from a small Wutan City clan who had been crippled for three years.

She had lost completely, without the slightest luck involved.

Ge Ye was not the only one who could not believe it.

The Xiao Clan members could not believe it either.

They had not yet recovered from the news that Xiao Yan had regained his talent when they were struck senseless by the fact that Xiao Yan had defeated Three-Star Dou Practitioner Nalan Yanran.

They looked at the upright youth in the field as though they were seeing a stranger they had never truly known.

A fifteen-year-old Four-Star Dou Practitioner, someone who had heavily wounded a Five-Star Dou Practitioner with one punch, and someone who had defeated Nalan Yanran head-on—the personal disciple of Misty Cloud Sect leader Yun Yun, whose strength had reached Three-Star Dou Practitioner.

Any one of these three things, taken alone, would have caused a sensation in Wutan City.

Yet Xiao Yan had accomplished all three at the same time, in the same place.

"You lost."

Xiao Yan looked at Nalan Yanran kneeling on the ground. His tone was flat, without mockery, pride, or even any excess emotional fluctuation.

Those three words from his mouth were like a simple fact requiring no proof—the sun rose in the east, water flowed downward, and she had lost.

Nalan Yanran lowered her head, her gaze resting on the shattered pieces of sword scattered across the ground.

Sunlight passed through the edges of the fragments, refracting into tiny glimmers like stars scattered across the earth.

She looked at her moon-white robe covered in dust, at the hands braced against the ground and trembling faintly, then looked up at Xiao Yan—his clothes were only slightly dirty, his hair a little disheveled. That was all.

He had not even broken a sweat. His breathing was as steady as if he had just returned from a walk, rather than a battle against someone above his level.

The last trace of unwillingness in her heart completely crumbled at that moment.

"I lost."

Her voice was very soft, so soft it seemed to have been forced from the depths of her throat.

Those three words weighed far more heavily than the three words Xiao Yan had spoken, heavy enough to nearly bend her back.

Xiao Yan nodded and did not look at her again.

His gaze moved away from Nalan Yanran, swept over Ge Ye at the edge of the field and the members of the Xiao Clan, before finally settling on the horizon dyed red by the setting sun.

"Since that is the case, take your people and get out of the Xiao Clan."

His voice was not loud, yet every word was crystal clear, like iron nails driven into wood. "From now on, you, Nalan Yanran, are no longer my fiancée. I officially repudiate you."

After saying that, he lifted a foot and prepared to leave.