Chapter 9: The Price of Victory

The arena stones still held the warmth of the morning sun as Jin Tian stepped onto their surface. Around him, the inner division tournament grounds buzzed with spectators—inner disciples, elders, and visiting cultivators from allied sects. The air smelled of incense and anticipation.

Across from him stood Liu Feng.

The inner disciple was taller than Jin Tian remembered, broader in the shoulders, with flame-red hair that seemed to flicker even without wind. His cultivation base radiated at the fifth level of Qi Condensation—a full three levels above Jin Tian's current state. In their first life, the gap had been insurmountable.

Now Jin Tian saw the cracks in Liu Feng's foundation. The fire-aspected techniques had been pushed too fast, too aggressively. The meridians in his left arm were slightly scorched, the spiritual energy flowing through them turbulent rather than smooth. A flaw that would be invisible to anyone who hadn't spent three hundred years studying the human body as a weapon.

"Outer Disciple Jin Tian," Liu Feng said, his voice carrying the practiced confidence of someone who had never known defeat. "I'll try not to hurt you too badly."

"I appreciate the consideration," Jin Tian replied, drawing his sword. The blade was standard-issue iron, unremarkable in every way. "But I wouldn't worry about me if I were you."

Liu Feng's eyes narrowed. "Arrogant words for someone who's about to be taught a lesson."

The overseer's hand fell. "Begin!"

Liu Feng exploded forward, flames wreathing his fists as he closed the distance in three heartbeats. His opening strike was a blazing palm aimed at Jin Tian's chest—a technique designed to overwhelm and intimidate.

Jin Tian stepped left.

Not back, not to the side in a defensive dodge, but forward and left, angling his body so that Liu Feng's palm passed inches from his ribs. His own sword came up in a horizontal arc, not aimed at Liu Feng's body but at the space where his arm would be if he committed fully to the attack.

Liu Feng pulled back, surprise flickering across his features. "Lucky."

Jin Tian didn't respond. He pivoted on his heel, sweeping his blade low toward Liu Feng's ankles. The inner disciple leaped over it, launching a kick mid-air that Jin Tian caught on his sword's flat. The impact sent vibrations through his arm, but he absorbed them, letting the momentum carry him into a spin.

In that spin, his blade found Liu Feng's ribcage.

Not a deep cut—the sword barely drew blood—but it was enough. The crowd gasped as Liu Feng staggered back, his hand pressed to his side. Blood seeped between his fingers, bright red against his robes.

"You cut me," Liu Feng said, his voice dropping to something dangerous. "You actually cut me."

"I noticed."

Liu Feng's eyes ignited. Literally. A corona of flame erupted around him, forcing the nearest spectators to shield their faces from the heat. The arena stones beneath his feet began to crack from the temperature.

Jin Tian had expected this. In their first life, Liu Feng had used this technique against a demon beast, incinerating it in seconds. The flames consumed spiritual energy at an alarming rate, but they also made Liu Feng nearly untouchable.

Nearly.

Jin Tian sheathed his sword.

The crowd erupted in confusion. Even Liu Feng paused, his flames flickering uncertainly. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not going to beat you with a sword," Jin Tian said calmly. "Not like this. My cultivation is too low, my weapon too weak. If I try to trade blows, I'll lose every time."

"Then you admit defeat?"

"No." Jin Tian lowered his stance, his hands resting on his sheathed blade. "I'm going to beat you with your own weakness."

Liu Feng laughed, but there was no humor in it. "And what weakness is that?"

"Speed." Jin Tian met his gaze. "Your techniques are powerful, but they're heavy. You've trained for overwhelming force, not efficiency. Every movement you make is designed to crush, not to flow. And that means you're predictable."

"Predictable?" Liu Feng's flames surged higher. "I'll show you predictable!"

He charged again, faster this time, his fists wreathed in fire that left trails of heat in the air. A combination strike—left jab, right hook, knee to the midsection, all in less than two seconds.

Jin Tian saw it all before it happened.

He dropped. Not dodging, not blocking—just dropping to one knee, letting Liu Feng's attacks sail over his head. As the inner disciple's momentum carried him forward, Jin Tian drew his sword in a razor-thin arc, the blade catching Liu Feng's trailing leg just behind the knee.

A tendon, severed.

Liu Feng screamed, collapsing sideways as his leg gave out. The flames around him guttered and died as his concentration shattered. He hit the arena stones hard, rolling once before coming to a stop on his back, clutching his leg.

The arena was silent.

"I warned you," Jin Tian said, rising slowly. He didn't sheath his sword. "Your left leg absorbs most of your weight when you attack. It's a bad habit. One that takes years to correct."

Liu Feng's face was contorted with pain and rage. "You... you crippled me!"

"Temporarily. It will heal in a month with proper treatment." Jin Tian walked closer, stopping a few feet away. "I want to ask you something."

"Go to hell!"

"Why did you kill me?"

The words hung in the air. Liu Feng's expression shifted from rage to confusion to something else—something that made Jin Tian's blood run cold.

"Kill you?" Liu Feng laughed bitterly. "I don't even know who you are. I've never seen you before today."

"In another life, you did. You put a blade through my heart." Jin Tian's voice was flat. "I want to know why."

Liu Feng stared at him, and for a moment, something flickered in his eyes. Recognition. Not of Jin Tian's face, but of his name. His voice.

"Jin Tian," Liu Feng whispered. "That's your name."

"Yes."

"I..." Liu Feng's face drained of color. "I've heard that name before. The sect master mentioned it. In a private meeting, three days ago."

Jin Tian's blood ran cold. "The sect master?"

"He said..." Liu Feng swallowed hard. "He said you were a threat. That you needed to be... contained. Eliminated if necessary." His eyes met Jin Tian's. "I didn't know who you were. I thought he meant someone else. Some enemy of the sect."

"What did he say exactly?"

"He said—" Liu Feng stopped, his eyes widening. "Behind you!"

Jin Tian spun, his sword coming up—

But there was nothing there. Only empty air and confused spectators.

When he turned back, Liu Feng was dead.

A thin needle of ice protruded from his throat, the frozen metal already beginning to melt in the residual heat of the arena. His eyes were still open, still locked on Jin Tian's face.

The crowd erupted into chaos.

Jin Tian dropped to his knees beside the body, his mind racing. The needle had come from somewhere in the crowd. Someone had killed Liu Feng to silence him. Someone who didn't want Jin Tian to know the truth.

Elder Zhou appeared at the edge of the arena, his face thunderous. "What happened?"

"He was killed," Jin Tian said, pulling the needle from Liu Feng's throat. It dissolved in his fingers, leaving only a faint chill. "Someone silenced him."

"Silenced him from what?"

Jin Tian looked up at the elder, and for the first time since his regression, he felt genuine fear. Not for himself, but for what he was about to uncover.

"He was about to tell me something about the sect master."

The crowd's murmurs became gasps. Elder Zhou's expression hardened. "You're accusing the sect master of conspiracy?"

"I'm not accusing anyone of anything," Jin Tian said carefully. "I'm stating a fact. Liu Feng received an order from the sect master to eliminate me. And now he's dead because he started to reveal that information."

Elder Zhou's hand moved to his sword. "This is a serious accusation, boy."

"I know."

"One that could get you executed."

"I know."

"Yet you make it anyway?"

Jin Tian rose, meeting the elder's gaze without flinching. "I've been dead before, Elder Zhou. I'm not afraid to die again. But I won't die ignorant. Not this time."

A heavy silence fell over the arena. Elder Zhou studied him for a long moment, his hand never leaving his sword.

Then, slowly, he nodded.

"Come with me. We need to speak privately."

As Jin Tian followed the elder from the arena, he caught sight of Chen Wei standing among the spectators. The other boy's face was pale, his eyes fixed on Liu Feng's body.

But when Chen Wei noticed Jin Tian looking, he smiled.

It was the smile of someone who knew exactly what was coming next.

And who was looking forward to it.