The God Within Me

The sky had turned a pale, silvery gray when the next names were called one by one. The arena no longer buzzed with loud cheers—instead, the air felt heavier, every match now carried more weight, more consequence.

The roar of the crowd faded into murmurs, the claps replaced by whispers of strategy and speculation.

Amidst it all, the match overseer called out clearly:

"Yanzhi of Tianhan Sect… versus Bai Sheng of Baiyuan Sect."

For a heartbeat, the gathered disciples fell silent.

Then came the whispers:

"That's him. Senior Lu Ming's student."

"The one with the weird unstable power?"

"He's probably going to lose. Bai Sheng's a technical fighter—sharp and tricky."

Yanzhi rose to his feet slowly. His shoulders were stiff, but his steps were steady. As he walked to the center of the arena, every eye followed him—not because of any proven strength, but because of the mystery that clung to him.

Bai Sheng was already waiting—a lean young man with narrow eyes and an easy, sharp grace. In his hand rested a folded iron fan, his signature weapon known for bending energy currents into subtle but deadly strikes.

"I heard you're Senior Lu Ming's favorite now." Bai Sheng said, his smile calm and edged. "Too bad—I don't care about keeping anyone's reputation alive."

Yanzhi didn't answer. He just stood straight, eyes locked on his opponent, unreadable. But in his head, the voice was already there.

"Finally. The Stubborn Rock steps onto the stage."

"It's not a stage," Yanzhi shot back inwardly, taking a slow breath. "It's an arena."

"Same thing. If you trip here, they'll all laugh. But don't worry—I'll help. Just don't embarrass me."

The match overseer's voice rang out:

"Begin!"

Bai Sheng moved first—fast. His iron fan snapped open, slicing the air and sending layered waves of cutting wind rushing straight for Yanzhi like invisible blades.

Yanzhi stepped hard to the side, dodging with a sharp pivot. He clenched the air in front of him—flames gathered in his palm, wild but far steadier than before.

"You're learning," the spirit murmured dryly. "Try not to die before the real fight begins."

Yanzhi hurled the flames in two quick bursts. The blasts roared toward Bai Sheng, but the other boy twirled his fan, spinning up a thin vortex that scattered the fire harmlessly.

"Not bad," Bai Sheng said, cool and dismissive. "But not enough."

He surged forward. For a split second, the air seemed to split around him.

Yanzhi braced, cloaking his arms in flickering fire as he blocked the incoming strike, skidding back a few steps. His left foot dug a scorched groove into the ground where the heat had flared.

"Don't retreat. Push back," the spirit's voice ordered like a command.

And this time, Yanzhi obeyed.

The flames roared to life again—this time twisting into a small spiral, flung forward like a spear. Crude, rough, but enough to force Bai Sheng to lean away, buying Yanzhi precious ground.

The clash continued. There were no grand techniques like the Thousand Li Slash—just raw, fast exchanges that made the crowd erupt into shouts and scattered applause with every blow and counter.

As the match neared its time limit, the overseer raised his hand:

"Enough!"

Bai Sheng halted, folding his fan with a soft click. Yanzhi stood panting, sleeves torn at the arm, chest heaving—but his eyes still burned bright.

"Result: Draw."

Some watching groaned, others cheered. But Yanzhi only dipped his head once, then stepped off the stage.

"You didn't die," the spirit said flatly.

"Of course not."

"Just wheezing like an old mule. Still… better than I expected."

Yanzhi let out a small, crooked smile—relief, more than victory.

---

The cheers hadn't even fully died down when a sharp voice echoed from the judges' platform.

"Next match—final duel of today's trials. Rou Han of Baiyuan Sect versus Yanzhi of Tianhan Sect!"

The atmosphere shifted in an instant. The excited murmurs turned to stunned whispers. Some disciples exchanged disbelieving looks.

"Did they just say… Rou Han?"

"Yanzhi just fought, didn't she?"

"This is insane. Rou Han is—"

But in the middle of that restless hum, Yanzhi stepped forward without a word. Her breathing was still ragged from the last fight, but her eyes—calm. Steady.

Across the arena, Rou Han stood with both hands clasped behind his back, his steps unhurried as he climbed onto the platform. The breeze seemed to welcome him, making his pale robe flutter gracefully.

"I'm curious," Rou Han said coolly, his voice carrying across the training ground, "how much strength you have left… before that flame of yours flickers out."

Yanzhi didn't answer. She simply lifted her chin slightly and settled into her stance. Faint flames danced in the air around her, trembling but alive.

Inside her, the spirit clicked its tongue.

"Now or never, stone head. Show them you're worthy to stand under the same sky as me."

Yanzhi lifted her gaze, locking eyes with Rou Han.

Fire flared around her—small, but unyielding.

Without another word, she stepped forward.

The fight began.

---

The wind suddenly felt colder as the two figures faced each other in the middle of the wide stone arena. Rou Han's steps were light, as if the wind itself guided him. Opposite him, Yanzhi stood firm in silence, faint flames flickering around her feet.

From the elders' seats above, every pair of senior eyes was locked onto this fight. The gathered disciples held their breath. This wasn't just any match — this was about pride, a clash that could shift the balance between two great sects.

The match overseer stood at the edge of the arena. He raised his hand and called out loud and clear,

"Begin!"

In an instant, Rou Han was already on the move.

His body shot forward like a shadow, a blade's aura swirling behind him, carving a thin crack through the air.

"Thousand Li Slash — Opening Form!"

It was as if the air itself split apart. This first strike wasn't meant to wound — it was a test, a pressure play. Yanzhi pushed off to the side, flames bursting from her palm to launch her body away.

A stray spark hit the stone ground — boom! — a small pop of fire.

"Are you planning to keep dodging forever?" the spirit mocked inside her mind. "Or are you ready to show him what we're made of?"

"I'm not that reckless," Yanzhi shot back. "One wrong move and I'm ash on these stones."

"Correction: we're both ash. So don't be stupid."

Rou Han attacked again — faster. His sword aura split into crossing lines, slashing the space around her, cutting off any path to escape. But just as one slash grazed her shoulder, Yanzhi swung her arm forward.

"Path-Breaking Flame!"

A burst of fire exploded from her palm, smashing into Rou Han's aura and splitting the crossing blades for a heartbeat. Dust swirled up, breaking his momentum.

Rou Han paused, just one step away, eyes narrowed.

"Your flame's starting to talk back. Interesting."

Yanzhi straightened up. Her breath was ragged, but her eyes burned brighter than before.

*If you want to see how far I can go—" She clenched her fist, flames rolling up from her shoulders to the sky, "—then watch closely."

Inside her mind, the spirit's voice came, low but quivering with approval.

"There it is. Finally, that spark I've been waiting for."

---

The arena was once again filled with the sharp clash of clashing auras. Fire and wind collided, creating a swirling storm of heat and pressure that echoed all the way to the edge of the stone stage.

Up in the stands, the disciples of Tianhan Sect were no longer sitting. One by one, they rose to their feet, eyes wide with disbelief.

"He's actually holding back Rou Han's technique!" one of them shouted.

"That's not just holding back. Look at that flame… his fire's changing," another murmured, eyes gleaming with excitement.

On the Baiyuan side, a few disciples shifted uncomfortably. They knew exactly how ruthless Rou Han's sword strikes were — many of them had been defeated by it themselves. But now, this boy from Tianhan was still standing… and even starting to push back.

In the elders' pavilion, the sect leaders leaned forward, their calm expressions tightening into something sharper — interest.

Elder Qian from Tianhan narrowed his eyes.

"That aura… it's climbing at an unnatural rate. But he's channeling that flame through an ordinary body. Impossible without external help."

"It's like his body's containing something else entirely," Elder Mei murmured, her tone turning wary. "And he hasn't fully mastered it yet. If it bursts—"

"This whole arena could collapse," Elder Luo cut in grimly. "But look — he's holding it down."

Across the stage, on Baiyuan's side, Elder Xu arched an eyebrow.

"That Tianhan kid… he's storing his flame like it's a third breath. That's no trick any normal student could pull off."

Elder Qin let out a soft hum. "He hasn't won yet. But if Rou Han underestimates him now, this won't end the way they expect."

Meanwhile, Senior Lu Ming hadn't moved from his seat. His body was still, but his hand had tightened around the hilt of the sword resting across his knees.

"Steady… keep your heart steady, Yanzhi," he murmured under his breath, as if willing the words to reach his disciple through the roar of flame and wind.

---

Back in the arena.

Rou Han raised his sword high, the wind around him sharpening like blades of ice. Bits of stone cracked and scattered beneath his feet.

"If you can withstand this," he said coldly, "then I'll acknowledge you."

Yanzhi didn't flinch. The flames wrapping her body grew denser, brighter. Her eyes burned, not with confidence—but because there was no path left except forward.

"Go on. Show me that slash. I'll stand through it."

The spirit inside her spoke, its voice a low, biting hiss—more serious than mocking this time.

"Finally. You're fighting like someone who doesn't want to die for nothing."

Rou Han's final strike came down like a storm. The power of the Thousand Li Slash roared through the air, tearing it apart with a force no one could easily block. Dust rose, swirling in a cyclone as every spectator held their breath.

Yanzhi stood her ground, knees trembling. Her breaths came ragged, her training clothes torn and her skin bruised and bleeding in places. She knew—if she took that attack head-on, she'd be knocked out cold. Or worse.

The spirit's voice cut through her mind, sharp but steady.

"Let me take over. Now."

Yanzhi shook her head inwardly, eyes locked on Rou Han.

"No. Don't."

"You'll die if you keep being stubborn!"

"If I fall—I'll fall as myself. I won't parade your power for everyone to see."

"This is no time for pride! Look at him—!"

"I'm not you. I won't become you."

Her body trembled. For a moment, her pupils flickered—an ancient flame danced inside them, proof the spirit was ready to burst free.

The air around her warped, growing hotter and heavier, like a volcano on the verge of erupting.

But suddenly—

Yanzhi screamed inside her mind.

"Stop!! Stay back!!"

The strike hit. A white flash tore across the arena.

CRACK!

The blow slammed into her side. Her body flung backward, blood splattering from her lips.

The crowd fell silent.

Dust and debris spiraled.

But—

Yanzhi didn't collapse.

She knelt, trembling. Blood dripped from her mouth, but her gaze stayed locked forward, steady and alive.

The spirit's voice returned, softer than ever.

"Foolish. So damn foolish."

---

Rou Han stood across the arena, breathing heavily, his hand still gripping the hilt of his sword. His gaze sharpened when he saw Yanzhi still standing—barely, bleeding, but on her feet.

"You're… still standing?" he murmured under his breath.

Up in the stands, some students fell silent. Others cheered, but the cheers were hesitant, as if even they weren't sure who had truly won.

On the stone platform, the elders of both sects exchanged looks. A few nodded faintly; others just watched, measuring every detail.

Lu Ming rose slowly from his seat. His face was calm, but his eyes were impossible to read.

The fight overseer stepped into the center of the arena. His voice cut through the lingering tension, firm and final.

"The match between Rou Han of the Baiyuan Sect and Yanzhi of the Tianhan Sect… goes to Rou Han."

Cheers exploded instantly, filling the air with relief and excitement. But not everyone cheered. Many kept their eyes on Yanzhi… with something closer to respect.

Yanzhi let out a short, shaky breath. She was still on her feet, though her knees trembled. Blood dripped from her temple, but her eyes still burned.

Rou Han stared at her for a moment longer, then slid his sword back into its sheath and turned away.

"You're stubborn," he said without looking back. "But I don't hate it."

Then he walked away, leaving the roaring crowd behind him.

By the edge of the arena, Lu Ming stepped down from the stands.

Yanzhi dipped her head slightly, trying to bow, but her body swayed.

Before she could hit the ground, Lu Ming was at her side, steadying her without a word.

"Can you walk by yourself, or do I need to carry you?" he asked dryly, though his eyes saw right through her.

Yanzhi gave him a faint, tired smile.

"I can walk… just maybe with a little help."

Lu Ming nodded. "A little. You know how to stand. But you don't always have to stand alone."

Together, they stepped out of the arena, leaving the lingering cheers behind.

Deep inside Yanzhi's battered body, that voice spoke again—this time, not mocking, but quiet.

"I didn't expect you to choose that path."

Yanzhi answered silently, honestly.

"Neither did I."

Her steps wobbled, but she stayed standing.

Today, she lost. But she hadn't given up.

She endured—and that was enough.

The spirit inside her whispered, softer than ever,

"For the first time… you've left me speechless."

Yanzhi only gave a faint smile, then walked on.

Bruised, burning, and still not done.