Novel Full Chapter 1070 - 1070: The Grand Finals [1]
The morning sky over the Sky Fire Arena was a canvas of blazing red clouds, the dawn itself seeming to ignite in anticipation of the grand finals.
The colossal arena was already overflowing with spectators. Sect elders, clan masters, and envoys from distant realms had all gathered, their robes gleaming with spirit light.
Drums thundered, horns blared, and a cascade of spiritual fireworks painted the skies in gold and violet.
Young maidens from the Eternal Snow sect descended on lotus-shaped platforms, scattering petals of flame orchids. Their dance traced spirals of fire and mist in the air, a celebratory welcome to honor the beginning of the finals. Cheers erupted, shaking the very formation pillars beneath the arena.
“Magnificent!” a middle-aged elder from the Steel Saber Clan roared with laughter, clutching his wine gourd. “Only the Phoenix Range could put on such a spectacle.”
Across the sky, disciples pointed in excitement. “Look! That’s Shui Lan of the Dark Sect!” “And there’s Kent King, the tricking fiend!” Names were shouted everywhere, each carrying awe, curiosity, or fear.
Finally, as the shows died down and the last petals vanished into sparks of light, the presiding elder appeared. His aura was immense, pressing upon every corner of the arena until even the proudest geniuses dared not whisper. His long beard flowed with qi, and his eyes gleamed like twin stars as he raised his arm.
“Silence.”
The arena instantly fell quiet. Tens of thousands of cultivators, nobles, and disciples leaned forward, their hearts pounding.
“Today marks the Grand Finals of the Golden Heir Tournament!” the elder’s voice boomed like thunder, shaking the hearts of all. “From the start, countless geniuses gathered. Many fell, many retreated, but those who remain—these few—stand at the very peak of their generation. Today, you will witness the birth of names destined to echo through the next hundred years!”
The crowd roared. Some disciples wept from sheer passion, others clenched their fists, dreaming of reaching that stage one day.
The elder raised a hand again, calming the waves of voices. His gaze swept across the contestants seated on divine platforms. “As per the tournament order, we shall proceed in reverse ranking. However…” his eyes glinted, “for the tenth position, only one disciple made his claim. No contest remains. Therefore, we begin directly with the ninth position!”
The sound of the crowd swelled again.
“Now,” the elder declared, “the two contenders who claimed the ninth rank—step forth!”
From one side, a tall youth clad in black flames leapt onto the arena. His every step scorched the stone, his aura blazing like a sea of fire. He clasped his hands arrogantly toward the elder, then sneered at the opposite platform. “I, Fan Lie of the Black Flame Hall, shall show you what true fire means.”
The crowd shouted his name, some in excitement, some in fear.
From the other side, a slender figure in green robes appeared, her steps like drifting feathers. She held a spear longer than her body, its blade shimmering with emerald qi. Her eyes, sharp and unyielding, locked onto Fan Lie with icy focus.
“I am Yue Yin of the Emerald Spear Pavilion. Your flames will burn no further than my spear tip.”
The arena erupted. Gambling slips already flew into the hands of clerks, and the crowd screamed out odds.
Fan Lie cracked his knuckles, flames bursting around him. “Heh. A woman dares contend for the ninth rank? I’ll end this within ten strikes.”
Yue Yin’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Then count them carefully.”
BOOM! The elder waved his sleeve, and the protective formations around the arena lit up. “Begin!”
Fan Lie roared, his body exploding into a fiery cyclone, waves of black flame scorching the air. He hurled a punch like a meteor straight toward Yue Yin.
Yue Yin’s eyes didn’t even blink. Her spear flashed once, splitting into dozens of afterimages, each thrust carrying killing intent. Clang! Clang! Clang! Sparks scattered like starlight as she deflected his blow, the last thrust grazing his shoulder. Blood misted.
The crowd gasped.
Fan Lie staggered back, clutching his wound, his pride burning hotter than his flames. “Impossible!”
“Strike one,” Yue Yin said coldly, her voice carrying to every corner of the arena.
The duel raged fiercely. Spear against flame, precision against raw force. The arena trembled under their clash. Yue Yin’s movements were as fluid as water yet sharp as lightning, while Fan Lie unleashed torrents of black fire to overwhelm her.
On the fifth exchange, Yue Yin’s spear pierced through the sea of flame and struck Fan Lie’s chest. He spat blood, flying across the arena, his flames sputtering out.
The elder’s voice cut across the deafening cheers. “Winner—Yue Yin of the Emerald Spear Pavilion! She claims the ninth position!”
The arena shook with applause and uproar. Yue Yin saluted calmly, her spear resting across her shoulder as she walked off the stage. Fan Lie lay groaning, his pride shattered more than his body.
The elder waited until silence returned before continuing. “Next—the contest for the eighth position! Step forward!”
Thus, the battles for the finals continued, one after another, each clash fiercer than the last. Sparks, flames, and blood danced upon the arena stage. From ninth to eighth, from eighth to seventh, the geniuses fought with everything they had, their names etched into the history of Phoenix Range.
By the time the seventh position was decided, the arena was a roaring sea of madness, and everyone knew—these were but preludes. The real storms were yet to come.
The Sky Fire Arena was a roaring ocean of voices, its stone terraces trembling beneath the weight of tens of thousands of cultivators. The protective formations above glowed brilliantly, reflecting every strike, every clash, and every-drop of blood-spilled on the grand stage.
By the time the contest for the sixth position ended, the crowd had already forgotten their own exhaustion, standing and screaming like madmen with every decisive blow.
But it was the battle for the fifth position that stunned the arena into silence.
Rina Lova, draped in silver robes with flowing violet hair, stepped into the arena with calm poise. Her aura shimmered like a sea of moonlight, refined and unyielding. Facing her were two-opponents, both seasoned geniuses who had crushed-countless rivals in the earlier rounds.
The crowd whispered, skeptical.
“Rina Lova is talented, but two at once?”
“She’ll be forced out quickly.”
“She should’ve fought for seventh. Too-arrogant!”