Chương 33: Chapter 32: TO PREDICT

CHAPTER 32 TO PREDICT —∞— It was Jieyuan's seventh time on the arena floor, and if he had his way, he'd be back again tomorrow. He was on the center stage, standing on one end of it. His opponent had already taken up position at the opposite end of the stage. The proctor was between them, droning on. The brightgold surrounding them glowed and glared as obnoxiously as always. Familiar sights and feelings all around; by this point, the stage felt like home, really, brightgold and all.

The coming duel promised to be even more familiar. Because it was Meiyao who shared the stage with him, and it was hardly the first time he'd ever faced her—not in person, and even less so in his head. Jieyuan let his arms drop and hang with the trusty weight of the Shifting Sisters, his hands closed near where the blades met the shafts. Theirs was the first duel of the day, the first of two, and Jieyuan was ready. Ready for the duel, and to fight a thousand more of them if needed.

Anticipation and apprehension burned inside him like rising surges of twin flames, feeding each other, growing stronger. Filling him with a heady, breathless sort of warmth. Of heat, giddy and tingling. Meiyao. That was what it came down to, what his mind kept coming back to, over and over, echoing numbly against the beat of his heart. From the moment he'd heard about the Summit tournament, he'd started courting the idea of fighting Meiyao and Daojue in it.

To face them on the big stage, to pit himself against them. To measure how far he'd come since they'd so handily beaten him in the Gleaming Stone Sect's entrance trials all those months ago. Today he'd be facing Meiyao. And if he played his cards right, tomorrow he'd get Daojue. Two for two, he thought to himself, reaffirming his conviction. Meiyao today, Daojue tomorrow. Two for two. That was what he was after.

Against Yongyi, Jieyuan had been prepared to lose; he wouldn't have liked it, but he'd have been fine with it. So much so that he hadn't even bothered coming up with a plan for the sixth round; he'd just gone straight into the duel, half-resigned from the get-go, looking for a fair fight he was likely to lose. But he'd won, and the stakes had changed. There was his promise to Yongyi (half-serious as it'd been), as well as his own desires and ambitions. This time around, he was playing to win.

To prepare for the fifth round, Jieyuan had abused Absolute Will Command's combat simulations to steal a win from Caoluan. He'd done just the same for his duel against Meiyao. If there were any rules that said you couldn't play the same card twice, Jieyuan certainly hadn't heard them. A winning hand was a winning hand, and winning was what Jieyuan was all about here and now. Over on the other end of the stage, Meiyao was working her wrist, twirling her saber lazily in the air.

Even from this far away, she was a sight to behold, her brown hair loosely bound, the green pinpricks of her eyes putting both jade and emerald to shame. The proctor was over halfway through the terms of engagement for the duel. Like with Caoluan, he'd managed to find the one scenario in which he won against Meiyao. It hadn't been nearly as easy, though. It'd taken him much longer to come up with a solution than it had back when he was simulating his duels with Caoluan.

That was despite the fact that Meiyao was one step lower than Caoluan, couldn't use any powers besides her weapon's spiritskill, and was less willing to grievously wound Jieyuan (or at least he hoped so) than Caoluan had been, which severely limited her options. Not to mention that Jieyuan's mental model of Meiyao was very accurate, probably only losing to his model of Yongyi. He'd seen her fight several times already, and had long since lost count of the number of spars they'd had.

That should have made it easier to find a solution, and it probably did—which made it all that much more significant the fact that it took the whole of yesterday to find a winning scenario. Noticing that the proctor was almost done, Jieyuan tightened his grip on the shafts of the Shifting Sisters and straightened himself up into proper posture. At roughly the same time, Meiyao stopped twirling her saber; like him, she snapped into a fighting stance. Jieyuan's plan for the duel was straightforward enough.

All it required him to do was get a very specific combination of blows out. Meiyao would react accordingly, and near the end, she'd give him the opening he needed to seize the win. He wouldn't even have to get himself stabbed this time, and not for a lack of trying.

He'd attempted to get himself stabbed (or, more precisely, hacked into) into several times in the simulations, hoping it might give Meiyao a pause and catch her off-guard, like he'd done against Caoluan, but it never played out right; Meiyao would always pull her saber back or snap it off to the side before the blade could burrow itself inside him. It turned out that Meiyao's unwillingness to deal him significant harm worked against him about as much as it worked in his favor.

Just as it limited her options, it also limited his—in terms of the riskier, half-suicidal moves he could've pulled off. A pity, that. The proctor nodded her head.

"BEGIN!" It was like they'd planned it beforehand, like they'd acted it out ahead of time. As soon as the proctor was off the stage, he and Meiyao set off, rushing at each other, steel-clad feet drumming against the brightgold floor. No hastespace this time; they were at the same step and from the same sect, so there wasn't any point in it. Meiyao was faster; they met some ways off the center, closer to his end of the stage than hers.

He was ready for it, and threw his arms forward without breaking stride, channeling all his momentum into the Shifting Sisters as he swung them out. Meiyao's saber crashed against the splitfangs' twin blades. They locked each other in place, both of them coming to abrupt halts. Meiyao's eyes were on his, green and vibrant as the height of summer, full red lips curled at the edges, a wild, exultant quality to her expression.

If he hadn't grown so used to sparring with Meiyao—used to seeing her like this, high on battle lust—he might have lost there and then, struck dumb. The stalemate didn't last long. Meiyao didn't have the edge on him in just speed. She was also stronger. Enough so that he felt his arms straining under the force of her saber.

He could've increased the weight of the Shifting Sisters, and that'd have allowed him to hold on longer; but it'd have tired him faster, and the splitfangs weren't in the right orientation to properly take advantage of that. More importantly, he had a routine to follow. One that required him to back down right now. So back down he did. Jieyuan threw both splitfangs to the side, and Meiyao's saber along with them. Meiyao reacted immediately; in one snappy movement, she had her saber slashing at him again.

Lowering the Shifting Sisters' weight, he pulled both weapons back in front of him, blocking the strike. What followed was a one-man act that Jieyuan had practiced plenty these last few days. He made full use of the Shifting Sisters' spiritskill to match Meiyao's speed and strength. Dropping their weight as he swung them for speed, surging their weight just before collision for strength.

It was the same strategy he'd used against all his opponents so far, the one that had allowed him to match opponents at higher steps. And now, to match an opponent at the same step. Seriously, he had no idea why others bothered to spare him any attention when there were monsters like Meiyao and Daojue around. Meiyao kept swinging her saber, setting a pace so frantic he barely got any hits in. The few attempts he did get around to making didn't come even remotely close to landing.

She wasn't quite as aggressive as she'd been against Dayang last round, but she wasn't all that far from it, either. She usually only got this way near the end of their sparring sessions. But this was a duel, not a spar, and Meiyao was taking this seriously. If there was one saving grace here, it was that Meiyao was unlikely to use Radiant Light Cut in their duel. She knew how much he'd taken to the Shifting Sisters; he doubted she'd destroy them like she had Dayang's sword.

Besides, Radiant Light Cut was prohibitively expensive to use. It cost way too much chroma, an obscene half a prismful per second. As a fourth-step, Meiyao would only be able to use it to a count of eight before she ran out of chroma, and that was assuming she started with her soulprism topped up. But from the looks of things, it wasn't like she needed to use it, anyway. Every time the Shifting Sisters met a swing of her saber, his bones rattled like he'd struck a metal wall.

Somehow, Meiyao was stronger than the fifth-step Caoluan had been, and not far from sixth-step Yongyi's level. There was something to the way she moved, swinging with her whole body, that packed far more power into her blows than a fourth-step had any business dishing out. It wasn't a trait of the Gleaming Stone Sect's or Viridian Death Cult's martial arts, either. Rather, it was something entirely unique to her.

Jieyuan narrowly dodged a swing that could've very well taken him on his side—he only managed it because he'd known that it was coming several moves back. If he hadn't simulated this duel to exhaustion, he'd have long since lost. Lost fast and hard. He wasn't the only one that had benefited from their spars. The Gleaming Stone Sect's style of martial arts was all about targeting the opponent's flaws, and Meiyao had grown awfully acquainted with his. But then the moment he was waiting for came, and it was beautiful.

Engineered to perfection over the course of their last several dozen clashes. Meiyao's saber was locked in place with right-hand Shifting Sister, Ruby. He'd managed to parry it at just the right angle to Sapphire to strike at Meiyao from the other side. Like a blur, Meiyao pushed Ruby away and slammed her saber into his incoming left swing. Just as he'd known she would. Jieyuan threw his body forward and snapped his right leg out like a whip at Meiyao's side, twisting his body.

Meiyao would've been caught by surprise—none of the local sects made good use of leg attacks. She'd have been disoriented, even if briefly, and he'd have been able to take advantage of that to put her at his mercy. He'd seen the sight of it hundreds of times, simulating this moment over and over to ensure he'd gotten it perfectly right. To leave absolutely no room for error.

What happened instead was Meiyao exploding in a burst of speed, spinning on her feet as her left leg lashed out to meet his just as her saber hit Ruby. And the one that ended up disoriented was himself. Meiyao grinned, teeth bared, lips stretched hungrily wide. Jieyuan slammed his left foot back on the floor, grounding himself. Meiyao paused a beat, just long enough for him to steady himself, before she came down upon him like the wrath of the Heavens. She was faster. Heavens almighty, she was faster.

Faster than he'd ever seen her before. If she was like a blur before, now she was a blur proper. Jieyuan didn't stay dumbstruck for long, but the realization he came to was almost enough to knock him back over again. He'd thought he'd seen the best Meiyao had to offer against that first gleamstone wolf, and then later when the three of them had fought Qingshi together, and even more recently when she overwhelmed Dayang in the previous round. But no. None of that had pushed her to the limits.

All this time, she'd still been holding back. Meiyao's feral, predator grin only widened as she pressed onward, the green of her eyes so vivid they were almost glowing. His mental model of her had been hopelessly inaccurate. He'd lost. Heavens damn it all, he'd lost. It didn't matter that the fight had yet to be called—he couldn't win. But Jieyuan forced himself to smile back despite the bitterness that filled him, to match Meiyao's gaze. Because he might be going out, but the Heavens knew he wouldn't go quietly.

No, he'd stand his ground until the end, go out with— CUT-HESITATION-RETREAT. A surge of half-formed thoughts slammed onto him like a stampede. Jieyuan staggered back, and Meiyao pulled her attack, the blade of her saber halfway to his stomach—and it said much of her control that she managed to do so—her smile slipping, her brow furrowing. She stayed her hand, unmoving as she looked at him searchingly, puzzled.

Were the circumstances any other, the touch of concern in her expression would have sent Jieyuan's heart racing a marathon a minute. And his heart was racing, drumming against his chest like an unbroken chain of thunderclaps—but Meiyao, for once, had absolutely nothing to do with it. It wasn't just Jieyuan's heart that raced. His mind was also hard at it as Jieyuan scrambled to make sense of the situation.

His body's movements he surrendered to his instincts, barely aware of what he was doing as he took up a defensive stance, bracing himself for Meiyao to resume her onslaught. What'd just happened—it'd been Huaxin. Huaxin had sent him a sudden, instantaneous blast of impressions. And as Jieyuan pushed his mind to compile the facts, he realized that what Huaxin had sent him, Meiyao had done. A cut from the left. Hesitation. Retreat. His heart—the Fatebloom Heart—didn't ease up any.

It kept on pumping blood through his body in a mad rush, making his blood thump in his ears like the crashing of waterfalls, so loud it almost drowned out his thoughts. Through his bond with Huaxin, he could feel its gleeful anticipation. Pure in its simplicity and honesty, but laced with a healthy dose of battle lust. Like a disturbed, psychopathic child jumping up and down in their eagerness for bloodshed. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Meiyao came at him again, closing the distance faster than he could blink, saber swinging out. TWIST-TURN-SLASH-RETREAT. It struck him again. The next few moments, whole seconds, compressed into a single instant. Jieyuan parried the strike, and as Meiyao twisted her body—exactly as he'd just seen—he brought both Shifting Sisters down in a cross-slash, and Meiyao aborted her motion, back-stepping. Meiyao's eyes were wide, wary. Suspicious and uncomprehending.

Jieyuan reckoned his eyes were just as wide, but for entirely different reasons. He gripped the shafts of the Shifting Sisters so hard he could distinctly feel the engravings on it dig into the palm of his hands. There was always some margin of error when he relied on his simulations for predictions—even when he got it right. Fine adjustments to be made on the fly. It also locked him into following a specific set of actions to get to a point he wanted. This was different.

What Huaxin was sending him were proper predictions—predictions that took into account not only what his opponent would do, but also what he would do. The outcome he saw in them was the outcome he'd get. He'd wondered what exactly Fatebloom Intuition was capable of, and it seemed like he finally had his answer. Meiyao re-engaged, launching her at him again. She was still halfway to him when Jieyuan suddenly knew— knew —that he'd just won the duel. SWING-COUNTER-STEP-SLASH-BREAK-STRIKE-STOP.

He didn't need to search for the right scenario amid thousands—tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands—possibilities and variations. It'd just been handed straight to him, falling on his lap on a silver platter and with a lovely little red bow on top. The path to victory was outlined for him, blazing and radiant and glorious, and Jieyuan stepped straight onto it.

Meiyao swung her saber at him—he countered, having started moving even before she'd made her attack, slamming both Shifting Sisters onto the incoming blade in a perfect parry. Then he stepped closer, inside Meiyao's guard. As she tried to move her saber back into position, he threw his right arm out, and the right-hand Shifting Sister's blade caught onto her saber and pushed it up and out. Meanwhile, his left arm was coming in at Meiyao in a downswing.

She tried to twist herself out of the way, but he'd already accounted for it and redirected the trajectory with a split-second abrupt reduction of the splitfang's weight. Sapphire's blade came to a sudden stop just an inch off Meiyao's collarbone. And that was that. The first burst of Intuition had staggered him. The second had allowed him to defend. The third time had won him the fight. It turned out that third time was indeed the charm, after all.

The incredulous look on Meiyao's face was not unlike the one Yongyi had given him at the end of their duel the previous round. The short, bark-like laugh, chock-full of disbelief, that escaped her lips next was also just like the one her brother had given. The smile that came last, though: the sharp, half-wild grin, paired with those gleaming, fathomless emerald eyes. Like a predator eyeing her prey, but in a good way. The best way possible. No Yongyi there. That was all Meiyao.

Huaxin, you glorious organ, Jieyuan thought, focusing on his bond with the deranged, probably psychopathic, sentient blood pump that had made itself home inside his rib cage. I swear to the Heavens, I'd give you my heart if you hadn't already eaten it and taken its place. What he got in reply from Huaxin was a confused sort of amusement. Then came what felt oddly like a yawn EXHAUSTION. Jieyuan felt his heart rate slowly fall, his blood no longer thumping thunderously in his ears.

He could still feel Huaxin's high—one that matched his own—but it was undercut by a growing sense of weariness, of fatigue. His connection to Huaxin grew slightly dimmer. It was still there, and he could tell that Huaxin was still conscious, but resting, sedate. Or whatever passed for conscious and resting to a sentient organ, at any rate. Well, as long as Huaxin taking a break didn't mean his heart stopping altogether, Jieyuan was fine with it. It certainly deserved some rest after what it'd just pulled off.

Because of it, he'd won. Meiyao might have not gone all-out, might still have several cards up her sleeves, but the same could be said about him. He wasn't her match, be it physically or skill-wise, but Fatebloom Intuition let him bridge the gap between them. He'd take the win. Jieyuan looked away from Meiyao, barely paying attention as the proctor climbed onto the stage, and cast his gaze toward the viewing floor.

He squinted his eyes against the glare of the brightgold, focusing on one, unfairly tall, orange-robed form on the Gleaming Stone Sect's side of the floor, seemingly alone. There it was. There he was. Jieyuan had won. His prize? Facing Daojue tomorrow. That was probably the last thing most of the disciples here would've wanted, given how soundly Daojue had beaten everyone he'd faced so far. Jieyuan, though—he couldn't ask for more. Meiyao and Daojue. One down, one to go. Two for two. He'd see it done.

—∞— Jieyuan leaned against the brightgold balustrade, arms folded over the guardrail, staring down at the arena floor. Waiting. A while had passed since his duel with Meiyao, but the thrill of victory still lingered. Dulled, yes, but not gone. Now it simmered low, a hazy warmth beneath the skin, no longer the triumphant, euphoric blaze it had been earlier, when he'd had his blade kissing Meiyao's neck. Probably because he wasn't thinking about that duel anymore. Not much, anyway. Winning had been great.

Sweet as gold, really, even more so against Meiyao, who had been the one to beat for so long, besides Daojue. But it was the duel coming up next that he was more interested in now. Daojue and Xianjun had just been called down. The two of them should be starting down the stairwells right now. It wasn't the outcome of the duel that Jieyuan was interested in, though. There was only one way that particular coin was landing. Daojue would win. Of course he would. He was Daojue.

Never mind that Xianjun was at sixth-step Redrealm. That if Xianjun had been facing almost any other fourth-step, it'd have been less of a duel and more of a curb-stomp beatdown. The outcome of the fight wasn't in question. The question, rather, was how much Xianjun would manage to push Daojue. Jieyuan thought back to how Xianjun had approached Daojue yesterday, and the strange little chat that had ensued. It wasn't his first time going over that befuddling bit of interaction.

The odds that Xianjun had actually been seeking Daojue's blessing to arrange today's duel (say, out of some misguided sense of honor or fair play) weren't impossible, granted. It could be that Xianjun was just that sort of person. Yeah, that's one bet I'm not taking. Not in a thousand years. What he would bet on was that Xianjun had been fishing for something. He had no idea what that something was. But… I've got a feeling I'll be finding out soon enough.

He glanced over at the Xiyunfeng Clan's side of the viewing floor, eyeing the elders gathered. Sovereign Zhihao, in particular. The man didn't seem to notice his gaze, fully concentrated on the empty stage below. Jieyuan stared at him, looking for some hint of—well, anything —but the Xiyunfeng sovereign's expression was a stony mask. Mystifying nefarious plot aside, Jieyuan figured Xianjun should at least put up a good fight. It wasn't luck that got the Xiyunfeng champion a place in the seventh round.

Luck could do a world of good for you, but you needed a little bit more than that to stay in the running after two hundred and fifty-six were cut down to four. That gave Jieyuan hopes that even if he was wrong and it turned out Xianjun didn't have some card up his sleeve, Xianjun would at least manage to get Daojue to bring out his bondskill. The bondskill Jieyuan was absolutely certain that Daojue had, even if so far his insufferable former teammate had not betrayed even the slightest indication of having one.

But then Jieyuan frowned, recalling all of Daojue's duels so far and how effortlessly he'd won them. All right, maybe a bondskill reveal's hoping for too much. Really, I'll settle for anything I can use against Daojue tomorrow. Because all Jieyuan had going for him were his Absolute Will Command simulations and Fatebloom Intuition, and he wasn't so sure they'd be enough. Not against Daojue. Fatebloom Instinct, as he'd taken to calling the rapid-fire variation of Fatebloom Intuition, wasn't perfect.

He'd spent almost every moment since his duel with Meiyao analyzing his newfound power, and he'd already discovered two major issues with it: it couldn't be used for long (it tired out the Heart like nothing else), and between each sequence there'd be a gap, one that a keen opponent could exploit. And Daojue was nothing if not sharp. I want to win, though.

Now that he'd gotten this far and had the chance to face Daojue on the big stage, he'd even considered using Absolute Will Command on Daojue—even though that meant risking revealing his own bondskill, with all the nasty business that would entail. That was how much he wanted a win. But he'd have only put that much on the line if he thought Absolute Will Command would be enough to guarantee a win. Which he didn't.

He had a feeling that Daojue would be able to just shrug off any commands sent his way, at least the obvious ones. Absolute Will Command might have worked rather well on Meiyao when he'd tested it on her, but the bondskill came down to a battle of wills. And based on everything Jieyuan had seen so far, iron will probably didn't even begin to describe what Daojue had.

He had managed to resist Rongkai's command to kill himself despite there being a considerable step gap between them and him being under the effects of Cultivator's Agony at the time. Jieyuan wouldn't know for sure how his willpower measured up to Daojue's until he actually tried to use a command on him, but he certainly wouldn't be counting on it. A subtle command might work, and he'd be considering tactics around that, but he doubted an active command would have much of an effect.

And Jieyuan wouldn't be surprised, either, if Daojue quickly noticed subtle commands. He definitely already had an idea of what Absolute Will Command did, and would be watching out for it. Fatebloom Incarnation was another option. His best option, in fact; he wasn't quite sure what it did, but he was confident it was the stronger power at his disposal. And he could use it at a moment's notice.

Over ten days had passed since the almost-successful attempt on his life where he'd been forced to use Fatebloom Renewal, and he had three golden drops of Heartblood sitting in the central chamber of the Fatebloom Heart, just waiting to be used. No. Jieyuan shook his head. I'm not that desperate. Fatebloom Incarnation was his biggest trump card, and he'd have to wait a month after using it before it was available to him again—and ten days before he could use Fatebloom Renewal, too.

He wouldn't waste his Heartblood drops on a mere duel. Finding nothing of note over on the Xiyunfeng's side of the floor, Jieyuan turned his attention to his own side, to a spot some ways off to his left, where the Gleaming Stone Sect's elders were bunched up. Plus Meiyao and Yongyi. Meiyao was the easier one to spot. She had her back to him, but the glaring orange of her inner disciple's robes stood out like a silver on gold against the other colors (mostly core-court emerald) surrounding her.

Her hair—chestnut brown, where everyone else's was pitch-black—stood out nearly as much. As for Yongyi, he'd be the blue-robed man standing next to her, the one without an elder's light coat. Elder Yiming had called the two of them over a while ago. To discuss family matters, the palace head had said, giving Jieyuan a look and a smile that made it clear that he wasn't invited, though in a polite enough way. Closest to Meiyao and Yongyi were Elder Yiming, flanked by Protectors Yuyan and Wanxin.

Some of the surrounding elders (all of them Liangshibai, given the flashes of bright red and orange eyes Jieyuan caught as heads turned this way and that) would sometimes contribute something to the conversation, but it seemed to mostly revolve around those five. Yunzhu hung nearby, orbiting her mother as she always did nowadays, but her eyes were on the lower floor rather than on the people around her.

Jieyuan couldn't make out what they were saying (not from where he was, or with how softly they spoke), but from the look of things, it wasn't wrapping up anytime soon. Which added up about right. They'd have much to discuss, what with Meiyao's impending departure—one that could very well see her gone for decades. That kind of thing probably warranted a family chat or two. Four days, Jieyuan thought. Four.

Four days left before Envoy Guodan would be taking him, Meiyao, and Daojue with her back to the Howling Lightning Sect. Or at least that was the idea. Tomorrow was the eighth and final round. The day after, an additional round to settle any ranking ties and disputes—those were very much a thing, from what he'd heard, with each sect fighting tooth and nail to improve their disciple's rankings. Then there'd be one day for the big shots of each sect to gather and strike deals based on those all-important rankings.

That'd involve plenty of bickering and drama if Elder Yiming was to be believed, and Jieyuan was inclined to believe him. His own, non-insignificant experience with backroom dealings checked out. And then, finally, on the last day of Yellowlack, the summit would wrap up for good. Everyone would get together one last time to wave off Envoy Guodan in this neat little ceremony and hope nobody had given her reason to decide the local maps would look better without the Radiant Gold Province on it.

And she'd be taking away with her the disciples she'd scouted. Now it was the woman in question he turned his eyes to. The envoy stood almost directly opposite him on the upper floor, in her dark blue, purplish robes, cast in the glow of the brightgold all around them. The only one near her was Sovereign Aoxin. As usual, the rest of the Radiant Gold Sect kept a respectful (and healthy) distance.

More than Envoy Guodan herself, though, it was what she represented that Jieyuan focused on: that there wasn't even a week left before he left the Radiant Gold Province for good. In fact, a week from now, he should already be in the Howling Lightning Sect. That was, assuming everything turned out as planned. Which, after yesterday, seemed less likely than ever. Over on the Viridian Death Cult's side, Jieyuan found High Priest Tangqiao near the back.

And just beside the old priest, the core disciple Baisenzhou Houliao, purported prophet of the Viridian Death Cult. The rest of the Viridian Death Cult's elders surrounded them, and they all seemed to be discussing something. Jieyuan studied them as carefully as he'd studied the Xiyunfeng earlier, looking for anything that could clue him in on something bigger. Weeks ago, while they were overflying Radiant Gold City and Jieyuan had set his eyes on the Viridian Dome, Huaxin had sent Jieyuan a premonition. An omen.

And Jieyuan had known, then, that he'd be getting caught up with the Viridian Forest eventually. And then yesterday had happened.

"Seek the Viridian," Jieyuan murmured. Like saying the words would somehow make them make sense. Baisenzhou Houliao, resident Viridian Eye wonder, oracle-slash-nuisance, dropping prophecies no one had asked for. Granted, prophecies had a way of showing up uninvited, and almost never with anything good to say. If it didn't come with a full serving of doom and gloom, could you even call it a prophecy? Now, Jieyuan's grasp on the Viridian Death Faith was just about non-existent.

All he knew was that the less he had to do with it, the better. Which was all he'd ever needed to know, growing up. Still, it hardly took a mastery in Viridian Death Theology to puzzle out that seeking the Viridian probably involved a trip to the Viridian Forest. Not just into the Viridian Forest, in fact, but into the Viridian Dome. The legendary death zone known for eating up several Yellowrealm scouting parties and not even spitting the bones out. How that could happen, though—now that was the stumper.

Jieyuan tried to imagine a scenario that could force him (and Meiyao, and presumably Daojue) into walking straight toward certain death like that. And he came up short. Because for something like that to happen, well… His eyes found their way back to Envoy Guodan. To the sole Orangerealm around. To the woman who could very well wipe out any of the city's sects down to a man on her own. She didn't look like much. Average height, average build. Handsome in a hard, unforgiving sort of way, if you were being generous.

Walk by her in a crowd and forget a second look; she wouldn't warrant even a first one. But not everyone could be Meiyaos and Daojues, with the looks to go with their talent, and there was no questioning Envoy Guodan's power and status. As long as she was around, nothing would happen to the three of them. Or so it went, in theory. Which meant that whatever was about to come would require taking her out of the picture. Just the thought of that chilled Jieyuan.

Because if something happened to the Orangesoul, the Howling Lightning Sect would come knocking next. Jieyuan had never seen an Orangesoul in action, but he'd heard plenty of rumors of what they were capable of. A handful or so of them should be able to wipe the entirety of the Radiant Gold Province—the city and all four sects connected to it—off the map in a matter of hours. All in a day's work, really. Jieyuan pursed his lips, thinking deeply.

It was possible that the Viridian Dome would only come into play further down the line. Neither Huaxin's premonition nor Houliao's prophecy had specified a time frame. It wasn't like something couldn't take them back to the area later. But that would be too easy, wouldn't it? Jieyuan just couldn't shake off the feeling that whatever was going to happen, it'd happen soon. Before they left.

And so he couldn't help but turn it over and over in his head, trying to think of what else he could do to prepare for it, to stack his odds of getting out of it alive. The envoy looked up. Jieyuan wasn't ashamed to admit he froze as her eyes locked onto his, all the way across the floor. She cocked her head, and his stomach responded with a little lurch.

Mind blanking, instinct taking over (it was hardly the first time he'd been caught staring at someone who could squash him like a bug, what with being the son of a merchant that dealt with cultivators), Jieyuan quickly gave a respectful half-nod, half-bow. Envoy Guodan's eyes lingered on him for a moment longer before she offered him a little nod in response and returned her attention to the stage.

It was a good thing, Jieyuan reckoned, that he probably ranked important enough to warrant some leeway from the envoy, but not enough to really draw her interest. Not like Daojue did, at any rate. Following the envoy's lead, Jieyuan focused down on the arena floor. Daojue and Xianjun should be coming out any moment now. He stashed all other unrelated thoughts away for later sessions of brain-racking; he was going nowhere fast dwelling on fate and future like that, and he had a duel to focus on.

Sure enough, Daojue stepped out onto the arena floor from the entrance directly underneath where Jieyuan was standing. Xianjun came out from the opposite side just a beat later. Daojue and Xianjun made straight for the center stage, both of them covering ground in long, easy strides. Daojue reached it first, of course. Xianjun was no midget, but each of Daojue's strides was easily twice an average man's. It was hard to compete. What came next wasn't any different from the standard fare.

The two of them got on the stage, drew their weapons, and the proctor went over the rules. As usual, the weapons at play—Xianjun's halberd and Gleaming End—were wrapped entirely in shrouds, masking their spirit, keeping their properties secret. Meiyao and Yongyi remained with their family, though they drew a bit closer to the railing and weren't talking anymore.

"BEGIN!"