Chapter 119: A Match Between Equals

After stepping onto the arena, Ji Mo turned around and shouted loudly at the still unresting crowd below: “Silence! On this stage, life and death are determined by fate alone. What kind of disorder is this, with all your shouting and clamoring?”

Her voice, charged with true energy, struck like a sudden thunderclap to the disciples around the arena. Their ears buzzed, their vision darkened, and their bodies wobbled, filled with shock and dread. Remembering Yan Wei’s mockery of their sect, silence fell instantly. Every gaze converged upon the two figures standing on the platform.

“Junior Sister Ji, what you say holds some truth. However, Young Master Yan is our guest. His rude intrusion into our arena was an offense in itself. Then to strike Senior Brother Gu so harshly—it’s a blatant insult to the Moonwatch Sect. How can you expect us to judge him by ordinary standards?” After silencing the crowd, Ji Mo was about to face Yan Wei when an ill-timed voice interrupted.

Ji Mo’s gaze sharpened. It was Jiang Ping who spoke. Her eyes slightly chilled as Ji Mo’s focus settled on her. Calmly, she said, “What is your suggestion, Senior Sister Jiang? Shall all the disciples swarm him at once, or do you intend to avenge Senior Brother Gu yourself?”

“You?” Jiang Ping’s anger flared. Her beautiful eyes narrowed, her delicate face darkened, and a deadly aura surged forth as she glared coldly at Ji Mo.

“What’s the matter? Do you think I’m wrong, Senior Sister Jiang? If you want others to account for you, you must first have the strength yourself. Otherwise, what use is all your empty talk?” Ji Mo’s eyes held a trace of mockery as she stared icily.

Under ordinary circumstances, Ji Mo would not have openly insulted Jiang Ping, whom she disliked and wished to avoid. But today was different. This Yan Wei and his sect had appeared unbidden in the Moonwatch Sect for unknown reasons. She had no patience to entangle herself with Jiang Ping, who was always looking for trouble.

Provoked by Ji Mo, Jiang Ping’s murderous intent roared within her, barely restrained by years of habit. The killing intent flickered briefly in her eyes before vanishing. Her expression changed twice in quick succession before settling back to normal. She steadied herself and said, “Junior Sister Ji, you jest. Everyone knows you are the brightest star among our generation of disciples. With you on the stage, there’s no need for me. Now, let us watch you display your might.”

Ji Mo cast her a cold glance and ignored the deliberate provocation. She turned to face Yan Wei, who watched the exchange with keen interest, and said calmly, “Young Master Yan, before we begin, there is a question I wish to clarify. I hope you will answer candidly.”

“Heh, of course, Miss Ji. Please ask,” Yan Wei replied with a seemingly patient chuckle.

“You have challenged me, yet you struck another disciple of our sect on the arena. What is your intention?” Ji Mo asked coolly.

“Heh, didn’t you just say it yourself? On the arena, life and death are left to fate. If he dared step up, he should be prepared to die. Your comrade was simply outmatched—how can you blame me for his death?” Yan Wei smiled in return.

“Well said, Young Master Yan. I recall that when we agreed to this duel, both you and your senior, Mo, declared that if anyone could knock either of you from the arena, it would signify that the Haofeng Empire would not trouble the Moonwatch Sect or the Yunhai Kingdom. Is that correct?” Ji Mo questioned.

“Indeed,” Yan Wei confirmed.

“Very well. I trust the promise made by you and your senior, as well as by Lord Rong. But I wish to ask one more thing—if in today’s fight I lose control and kill you, will your previous assurance still stand?” Ji Mo smiled faintly as she spoke.

“Of course. Since I dared to be the champion here, I am prepared to be killed. If you kill me, the terms I set remain unchanged,” Yan Wei said without shifting expression.

“Excellent. Young Master Yan, a guest from afar, please make your move.” Ji Mo’s smile vanished, her face darkened slightly, and her brows lifted in challenge.

“Heh, Miss Ji, you truly are a prodigy of the Five Elements. Such confidence in yourself! Very well, Yan Wei won’t hold back. Miss, receive my first two punches.” He laughed lightly twice, and before his voice faded, his figure blurred as a shadow streaked forward. A light, seemingly effortless fist flew toward Ji Mo.

Yan Wei’s punch was silent, weightless, lacking any visible force or momentum. Yet Ji Mo’s body hairs stood on end instantly. Twin fiery lights blazed from her eyes. She neither dodged nor blocked, but with a quiet snort, she swung both fists to meet his strike without showiness.

Boom! The arena trembled violently. Circles of terrifying ripples tore through the surrounding air, whipping up a fierce gale that spread outward. The two seemingly effortless fists collided like an earth-shattering quake. The disciples watching below were struck by an invisible force, their steps faltering, faces pale, staggering backward in disarray.

Screams and shouts filled the air as chaos erupted around the arena. Five Nascent Soul cultivators among the spectators rose simultaneously and intervened, neutralizing the shockwaves and stabilizing the situation. The residual waves of the impact gradually subsided, but then, with a thunderous crash, the arena—designed to withstand the full strength of Core Formation cultivators—collapsed entirely.

The Moonwatch disciples, regaining their senses, stared dumbfounded at the fallen platform. Just two casual punches had shattered it?

Ji Mo, however, paid no mind to the onlookers. Her gaze narrowed into needles, her entire being ablaze with battle intent. The cultivation method Yan Wei practiced was none other than the Celestial Demon Body Refining Technique, the very same foundation as her own. Her intuition could not deceive her. This was the first time in over a decade on the immortal path that she had met a cultivator who shared her unique training.

Ji Mo’s awareness of their shared root stirred a fierce curiosity in Yan Wei’s eyes. But do not mistake this for affection—it was an unparalleled frenzy of battle intent and murderous will. Instinctively, he licked his lips and said with barely contained excitement, “You have not disappointed me. Not bad, not bad. Let’s see how you handle a few more of my punches!”

“Wait!” Ji Mo shouted sharply, seeing him rush forward again.

“What? Afraid?” Yan Wei’s eyebrows drew together, a streak of cruelty flashing in his gaze.

(To be continued…)