Chapter 72: Each One's Plans

"That's right, after all, she's your sister. You should count yourself lucky to have such a sister—she can dote on you every day..."

"Spare me! That’s not doting at all; it’s pure torture. Every time my sister shows concern for me, I’m so terrified I can’t sleep for nights on end. No one’s hit me as much as she has—not even my mother."

"Heh, no wonder you can take a beating so well. Turns out your sister trained you for it. I never would’ve guessed, heh..."

"Stop joking around, Xiaochuan. Why did you ask me out so early? I haven’t even woken up yet..."

"Actually, I stumbled upon something strange today, and I wanted to talk to you about it."

"What strange thing?" Hearing what Qin Xiaochuan said, Zhang Yang leaned in. At that moment, Qin Xiaochuan was staring intently at his right index finger, as if concentrating. "I can’t summon my Spirit Bullet anymore!"

"What?! You can’t use your Spirit Bullet?" Hearing that Qin Xiaochuan couldn’t perform his signature move, Zhang Yang shouted in shock.

"Shh! Shh! Don’t shout!" Seeing Zhang Yang’s astonished expression, Qin Xiaochuan hurried to hush him, pulling him into the grove beside the hotel to avoid being overheard. Yet this fool still yelled. Watching Zhang Yang’s reaction, Qin Xiaochuan shook his head helplessly. "To be honest, this has happened before. After firing four Spirit Bullets in a row, I’d be sore all over, and the next day the power of my Spirit Bullet would be weaker than before."

"Are you just tired?" Before Qin Xiaochuan could finish, Zhang Yang anxiously pressed on. "I’ve been sore all over after depleting my spiritual energy, too, but I’ve never been unable to conjure my Spirit Sword. Maybe you’re just exhausted and low on spiritual power."

"That’s not it. This is the first time I’ve ever been completely unable to focus my spiritual energy like this."

"So you really can’t fire it at all?"

"...I don’t know. But what could actually be causing this?" Staring at his index finger, Qin Xiaochuan was thoroughly puzzled.

Just then, a young woman’s voice came from the grove. "It’s all because you recklessly fired off too many shots yesterday. That’s why you’re in this state now."

Hearing someone behind him, Qin Xiaochuan turned around quickly. He saw the masked member of his team standing beside a large tree, hands behind her back, watching him and Zhang Yang. Glancing around and seeing no one else, Qin Xiaochuan realized the masked teammate was the one who’d just spoken. He hadn’t expected her to be female, and so young—that truly startled him.

Seeing Qin Xiaochuan turn, the masked teammate continued, "Rapid fire is an advanced spiritual technique. It’s not something a novice with only half a year’s experience should be using!"

Stunned, Zhang Yang and Qin Xiaochuan stared at the masked teammate. It seemed this was the first time either of them had heard her speak, and her voice was so young—it took them completely by surprise.

"Hey, Xiaochuan," Zhang Yang whispered into Qin Xiaochuan’s ear, "I always thought this short teammate was Master Jinghai. How come she sounds so young? What’s going on?"

"I’m just as confused," Qin Xiaochuan whispered back, equally baffled. "Grandma introduced her as a teammate, and since she did, I figured there was no problem. But this is the first time I’ve heard her voice."

Noticing their hushed exchange, the masked teammate seemed unwilling to let any misunderstanding linger. She addressed Qin Xiaochuan, "Don’t use the Spirit Bullet again until you’ve fully recovered. If you keep being reckless, you’ll end up like someone who lost the use of an arm." With that, she strode deeper into the woods and soon vanished from their sight.

"Someone?"

"Lost an arm?"

Qin Xiaochuan and Zhang Yang exchanged glances, both thinking of the same person—Feiyan! Ever since the end of the match, Feiyan had disappeared, seemingly avoiding them on purpose. Could it be that something really happened to Feiyan’s arm? Was it truly as the masked teammate said—crippled?

At that moment, atop a giant rock rising from the sea at the cliff’s edge of Fairy Island, a frail figure knelt on the stone, trembling uncontrollably in obvious agony. It was none other than Feiyan, missing since the match.

Clutching his right hand, Feiyan’s face was twisted in pain. Cold sweat drenched his forehead as if he had just recovered from a grave illness, his face pallid and drained of all color.

During the last match against Yan, Feiyan had unleashed the unfinished Black Dragon Wave. The Black Dragon Wave emitted from his arm seemed to devour his right limb. After the match, he felt as if his right arm had turned to stone, completely devoid of sensation. Was this, as Bai Ying had warned, the aftereffect of using black flames in the mortal world? If so, how cruel it was! Though he had won the match, would he have to bear this suffering in silence for the rest of his life? No, he could not accept this. Thinking of his future, Feiyan lifted his head and screamed at the sky, his roar filled with anger and frustration, venting all his pent-up resentment.

Receiving no response from the heavens, Feiyan grabbed his right arm with his left and slammed it against the rock with all his might, the pain almost unbearable. Was it truly as the masked teammate had said—was his right hand truly useless now? If so, it would be a devastating blow to Qin Xiaochuan’s team. After the match, Qin Xiaochuan was unable to use the Spirit Bullet due to overexertion, and Feiyan himself could no longer use the Black Dragon Wave—his right hand was now unusable. How could he face Qin Xiaochuan, or the coming matches? Before boarding, he had boasted that as long as he and Qin Xiaochuan were on the team, they would be enough. Who could have foreseen that after the very first match, he would be pushed to such a desperate state? How could things go on from here? He was utterly vexed...

Meanwhile, seven out of the eight teams for the quarterfinals had already been decided. Besides Qin Xiaochuan’s team, six teams had advanced through the first round of elimination. The last spot was being contested in the center of the arena. The two teams vying for entry were the reigning champions, the Sikong Lang team, and the Mage Warriors, participating in the Dark Martial Arts Tournament for the first time.

As the referee called the teams to the stage, the five members of the Mage Warriors ascended the arena. But only one member of the Sikong team stepped into the ring—the captain, Sikong Lang. At the sight of Sikong Lang, some monsters in the audience who recognized him began to cheer wildly, waving glow sticks and chanting his name. Soon, the chant of "Sikong Lang" thundered through the stands, a testament to the lingering prestige of last year’s champions.

Seeing that only one opponent had taken the stage, the Mage Warriors’ captain, Fist Demon, voiced his displeasure, "Why are you the only one here? Do you intend to fight all five of us alone?"

"If possible, I’d like to take on all five of you myself." Sikong Lang, now standing beside the referee, paused as he heard the question from the burly man whose mouth was sewn shut. Sikong Lang felt a bit vexed. "I have plenty of troublesome people waiting at home as it is."

"What?! What’s that supposed to mean?" The Mage Warriors' member, Mad Demon, was instantly enraged by Sikong Lang’s words. Did he think so little of them? Though the man before them was captain of last year’s champion team, five years had passed—who knew what his abilities were now? Perhaps he had already declined in skill. Besides, every member of the Mage Warriors was an elite selected from the Demon Rock Island’s Mage Warrior clan, each boasting strength to lift a thousand catties and the special ability to transform into a berserker warrior. Once their berserker blood was awakened, their combat power would double. Seeing Sikong Lang stand alone against them, resentment flared among the Mage Warriors.

"I’d like to take on all five of you. Is that allowed, Miss Referee?" Ignoring Mad Demon, Sikong Lang turned to Miss Zhenzhen beside him to inquire about the rules.

Hearing his question, Miss Zhenzhen hurriedly replied, "No problem. As long as both captains agree, the match can be one-on-one or one-against-many, according to your arrangement."

"Understood. Thank you!" With her answer, Sikong Lang turned to Fist Demon. "You’re the captain, right? How would you like to fight this match?"

"No wonder you’re last year’s champion—you saw through me at a glance," Fist Demon replied, unperturbed by Sikong Lang identifying him as captain. Though he hadn’t said anything, anyone with spiritual sense could feel his demonic energy far exceeded that of ordinary members. That was how the final five were chosen on Demon Rock Island: by the amount of demon energy they could release. As for the match format, he had no strong opinion. So when Sikong Lang asked, he countered, "You came alone—are you planning to fight all five of us yourself?"