Chapter 335: The Void’s Arrow

Chapter 335: Chapter 335: The Void’s Arrow

The dust from Alena’s victory still hung in the air when Mio Nightrider skipped onto the arena floor.

Her high purple ponytail swayed with each step, her core disciple robes fluttering around her thighs. She looked like she was heading to a festival, not a deathmatch.

The crowd loved it.

They had seen her fight yesterday. They had seen the void arrow that knocked out Kael Stone in an instant.

But they hadn’t seen this.

The bow in her hands was blacker than midnight.

It hummed with latent spatial energy, the string vibrating with a frequency that made the air around it ripple and distort.

The Voidpiercer Bow was Saint Grade, a weapon that could thread arrows through the gaps between dimensions.

Mio raised it above her head.

The crowd roared.

In the Azure Dragon dugout, Damon watched with a small smile.

Mio was in her element.

The Thousand Poison Pavilion dugout was a mess.

Four of their fighters were down. Their Vice-Captain was still unconscious. Their morale was shattered.

But they still had three fighters left.

Fighter 5 stepped onto the stage.

He was a defensive specialist, a wall of muscle wrapped in heavy toxic shields. Each shield was coated in a layer of corrosive poison that would eat through any weapon that touched it.

He planted the shields in the stone, forming a semi-circle around himself.

Then he began to fire.

Poison darts streaked from behind the cover, each one tipped with a paralytic agent that could drop a Heavenly Spirit Realm cultivator in seconds.

Mio dodged.

She didn’t even look like she was trying. She swayed left, then right, then back, the darts passing inches from her skin.

Mio’s smile remained fixed on her lips, a confident curve that didn’t waver despite the hail of poison flying toward her.

"Is that really all you can manage?" she taunted, her voice light and teasing as she swayed between the incoming projectiles.

The Fighter’s reply came through gritted teeth, muffled by the toxic barriers surrounding him.

"You’ll regret those words when the paralysis sets in!"

He unleashed a volley of twenty poison-tipped darts, fanning them out in a deadly spread pattern designed to cover every possible escape route, the air hissing as they cut through it.

Mio’s forest-green eyes sharpened with sudden, intense focus.

In one fluid motion, she nocked a single arrow, the bowstring humming with anticipation as spatial energy began to gather at the arrowhead.

The entire arena seemed to freeze, every spectator holding their breath as they watched the duel unfold, the tension thick enough to cut with a blade.

She drew the string back, the bow creaking with tension. The spatial energy around the arrowhead began to warp, to twist, to fold.

She released.

The arrow disappeared.

No. Not disappeared.

It phased.

It passed through the fabric of reality itself, slipping into a spatial ripple that bent around the shields. It re-emerged on the other side, directly behind the Fighter’s cover, and struck his shoulder.

The impact pinned him to the ground.

His shields clattered around him as he screamed, the arrow pinning his shoulder joint to the stone floor. He tried to reach for another dart, but the pain was too much.

He surrendered.

Grand Marshal Vane’s voice boomed across the arena.

"Azure Dragon Sect leads. Five to zero."

The crowd erupted.

Mio twirled the bow in her hand, a cocky grin on her face.

"Who’s next?"

Fighter 6 didn’t wait for the announcement.

He burst from the dugout, curved daggers in each hand, his body coated in a thin layer of contact poison. He was an assassin, fast and deadly, designed to close the distance and end the fight in seconds.

He covered the distance in three heartbeats.

Mio didn’t move.

She didn’t nock an arrow. She didn’t draw the string. She just raised the bow and fired.

Three arrows.

No aiming.

No calculation.

Just pure instinct.

The first arrow phased through space and struck the dagger in his right hand, the impact sending it spinning away.

The second arrow appeared directly in the path of his left hand, piercing through the blade and embedding itself in his palm.

The third arrow materialized at his knee, punching through the joint and dropping him to the ground.

He didn’t even have time to scream.

He just collapsed, his body hitting the stone floor with a wet thud.

The crowd went silent.

Then they exploded.

"AZURE DRAGON! AZURE DRAGON! AZURE DRAGON!"

Mio raised the bow above her head, her grin wide and bright.

She turned and looked toward the Thousand Poison Pavilion dugout.

Their bench was empty.

All except for one figure.

The Captain.

He stood at the edge of the dugout, his face pale, his hands trembling. He had watched his entire team fall in minutes. He had watched four of his fighters get eliminated by an alchemist, and the last two by an archer who didn’t even seem to be trying.

He was alone.

And he knew it.

Grand Marshal Vane’s voice cut through the noise.

"Thousand Poison Pavilion is reduced to their Captain alone. The match will continue when the Captain steps onto the stage."

The Captain didn’t move.

He just stood there, staring at Mio, who was still twirling her bow on the arena floor.

She waved at him, her fingers fluttering in an almost mocking gesture.

"Come on, I don’t bite."

The crowd erupted in laughter, the sound echoing off the arena walls.

The Captain’s face twisted with rage, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the dugout. He knew he had no choice. He couldn’t forfeit. Not with the reputation of his entire Pavilion on the line.

He stepped onto the stage, his boots heavy against the stone.

The final match of the round was about to begin.

Damon watched from the dugout, his golden eyes fixed on Mio. A faint smile played at the corner of his lips.

She was having the time of her life.

Her ponytail swayed as she shifted her weight, her stance relaxed, almost lazy. The bow in her hands seemed to hum with anticipation, as if it too was eager for the next shot.

And she hadn’t even drawn her full power yet.

The Voidpiercer Bow hummed in her hands, a low, resonant vibration that seemed to pulse through the air itself. It was waiting for the next arrow.

Waiting for the next kill.

The Captain drew his weapon—a massive scythe coated in black venom, its blade dripping with a viscous, oily substance that hissed as it touched the air. He held it low, his stance wide, his eyes burning with desperation.

He charged.

His feet pounded against the stone, closing the distance in a heartbeat.

Mio smiled.

And she nocked another arrow.