A blood-red lotus appeared before my eyes, erupting in flames that surged in all directions. The blaze resembled a colossal crimson lotus, swiftly engulfing both combatants within its petals.
As the flames gradually faded, I stared in astonishment—Genesis was completely unharmed, while Lord Shenyan clutched his chest, half-kneeling on the ground. One hand gripped the Sinblade, bracing himself, as he coughed violently, gasping for breath.
"Your power is certainly unique, but if you're not careful, you'll end up burning yourself."
Genesis spoke coldly as Lord Shenyan struggled to his feet.
"If this continues, neither of us will win."
As he spoke, Lord Shenyan released his grip, and the Sinblade vanished. In its place, a glint of black appeared—he now held the Founder's Sword, a blocky, oddly shaped black blade.
"Are you ready to get serious?"
Genesis raised both palms, silently fixing her gaze on Lord Shenyan.
This time, Lord Shenyan gripped the sword with his left hand. Floating upward, he stared across at Ms. Genesis.
"I will win soon."
Lord Shenyan raised the Founder's Sword, gently tracing it through the air. Black lines, like streams of ink, rippled outward from the blade, slowly spreading in all directions.
"They say your teacher was Master Moses Moore, and everything you are comes from him. To kill one person is simply murder, but to wage war and leave millions dead and homeless—such people are called heroes. Isn't that a contradiction? The Mo School's ideals you uphold are nothing more than that."
Lord Shenyan said nothing. With a swift motion, he appeared before Ms. Genesis, his sword lightly thrusting forward. Ms. Genesis raised her palms and struck twice, but this time Lord Shenyan's blade seemed to adhere to her; no matter how she attacked, she couldn't deflect it. I swallowed hard, staring in disbelief.
Lord Shenyan's movements had completely changed. Gone was the murderous intent, the sharp aggression—now his swordplay was gentle, almost like a dance, every movement soft yet perilously close to the edge.
A strange light flickered in Genesis's icy eyes as Lord Shenyan continued his relentless assault with the Founder's Sword.
"If you kill to protect the weak and uphold justice, then such violence is never wrong."
"Justice?"
Genesis retreated a step, moving out of reach of Lord Shenyan's sword. A smile appeared on her face.
"Justice doesn't exist anywhere. If it did, we wouldn't have become like this. It's precisely because justice is nowhere to be found that this world keeps replaying its tragedies. When horror unfolds, where is justice then?"
Lord Shenyan said nothing, continuing his assault. His sword danced and Genesis blocked with her palms. Though the clash of power was invisible, I knew both attacks were fierce—softness concealing a steely resolve, each determined to end the other.
"Long ago, I asked my teacher: What is justice, and where does it reside?"
With a swoosh, Lord Shenyan's sword swept past Genesis's left side, slicing off strands of her hair. She pressed her hands down in midair, using the momentum to leap back. A breeze fluttered by, and Genesis caught the severed hair in her left hand.
"Chasing after something that doesn't exist in this world is pure folly. Lord Shenyan, you are the most despised among all of us in The Immortality Society. Alfred Fu once told me—when it comes to people like you, all I feel is disgust and hatred."
Lord Shenyan let out a brief cry.
"It's true—I'm detestable. I've always been that way, fighting only for justice, with no attachments. Many lords and kings have hated me, even my own Mo School family despises me. I can't understand you, and you can't understand me. The sword in my hand and everything I stand for exist only for justice, and I will die for justice alone."
Genesis laughed coldly, her expression growing angrier. I noticed the members of The Immortality Society sneering, all eyes fixed on Lord Shenyan.
"Pure and lofty justice means nothing at all."
Alfred Fu spoke coldly. Suddenly, Genesis struck—she twisted her body, appearing before Lord Shenyan in an instant, her palms slamming toward him. Lord Shenyan raised his sword, blocking her attack.
Justice is sometimes powerless, sometimes sorrowful, but more than anything, it's lonely. Everything I pursue doesn't need understanding or approval.
With a sudden flash, my eyes widened.
"What is that?"
Suddenly, Lord Shenyan slashed his sword, and I saw a swirl of black mist slice through Genesis. She floated backward, her left hand severed. She stared blankly at Lord Shenyan, black vapor swirling around him.
"What exactly is that?"
Basil Bertram asked in confusion. It was the question on all our minds—even the members of The Immortality Society looked on in astonishment.
Genesis's severed left hand slowly regenerated as she glared coldly at Lord Shenyan.
"Do you pursue only what you desire?"
With a rush, Genesis charged Lord Shenyan again. This time, he made no move at all. At that moment, he seemed like an insurmountable mountain, quietly raising his sword, half-kneeling as he exhaled a long breath of black mist.
"The swordsman... is formless and effortless. The Nine Swords..."
With a sudden flash, Lord Shenyan thrust his sword forward. What I saw then was something else entirely—vast stars, endless earth, the rising sun, wind and clouds swirling in the sky, as if all of nature had merged into one in an instant.
With a ripping sound, I stared in shock—Lord Shenyan's sword pierced through Mr. Oblivion's back as Mr. Oblivion shielded Genesis, embracing her.
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"Looks like we've lost. Can we stop now? Lord Shenyan, that was an incredible sword strike. If my sister had taken it, she wouldn't have survived."
The sound of heavy breathing filled the air as all members of The Immortality Society instantly rushed to Genesis and Mr. Oblivion's side. Alfred Fu stared coldly at the sword in Lord Shenyan's hand.
"Let us help you dissipate the power."
Lord Shenyan withdrew his sword. With a thunderous boom, the thirteen members of The Immortality Society raised their fists, surrounding Mr. Oblivion and Genesis. They struck at the twisted spaces that had suddenly appeared around them, while Lord Shenyan slowly floated back and landed on the ground.
"I've never seen a sword taken to such an extreme—truly impressive."
The craftsman shouted excitedly. Lord Shenyan said nothing, sheathing his ruler sword and returning to our side.
"You really hid such a powerful move—one that could even draw our consciousness into it. It must be a level of mastery!"
Basil Bertram remarked, while John Chou looked on thoughtfully. Lord Shenyan sat silently on a large stone, the ghostly aura around him greatly diminished.
Adam Dale carried Mr. Oblivion, who looked to be in great pain. Genesis watched him with concern, while Alfred Fu gazed quietly at us.
"In half an hour, the fourth round begins."
We began to retreat. After landing, Lord Shenyan could barely stand and quietly sat on the ground.
Don't use the power of Hellfire anymore, Lord Shenyan. It's too great a burden. Though its might is overwhelming, the damage it does to you is just as severe.
After landing, John Chou spoke. Lord Shenyan said nothing and shook his head.
"Hmph, that guy never listens to advice. John Chou, don't waste your breath. For the next match, will it be Yvonne May or Basil Bertram?"
Mona Ouyang spoke, and Basil Bertram laughed quietly.
"I'll find a way to win. Just one more victory and the match is ours."
John Chou was deep in thought.
"The next match won't be so easy. It's likely to be Alfred Fu or The Undertaker. Your strength is at a disadvantage against either of them, and Yvonne May's power isn't suited for fighting. Deathcurse, shouldn't you step up?"
At this, Ji Yuner looked at Deathcurse, who shook his head.
"Though I'd like to help, if you send me into battle, my chances of winning aren't even ten percent. John Chou, you know that as well as I do. Or are you planning to fight yourself?"
John Chou was still pondering a strategy as time ticked by—less than ten minutes remained until the next battle. I noticed Tan Tian drifting toward us, passing by in silence and heading off into the distance.
"What is he looking for?"
"No time to worry about that now. Who's up for the fourth round?"
Basil Bertram asked anxiously, and John Chou looked at him.
"If you go up against Alfred Fu or The Undertaker, what are your chances of winning?"
Basil Bertram was silent for a minute before answering.
"At most, thirty percent."
The situation remained grim.
"Thirty percent is enough."
John Chou spoke, then let out a cold laugh.
"What exactly are you trying to confirm, John Chou? If this match doesn't matter, I'll go instead."
At this, Yvonne May, who had been silent, finally spoke. We all looked at John Chou.
"It's not about confirming anything. If I had to say, some things are already clear. Basil Bertram, you'll fight the next round."
Once decided, time was up. We drifted forward. At that moment, Tan Tian crossed our path again, his eyes filled with doubt, as if wary of something.
"Basil Bertram."
"Xu Fu."
We all looked at Xu Fu. Basil Bertram sneered and drifted forward, while Xu Fu was already standing in the center.
"Basil Bertram, this round is ours."
"Xu Fu, the real contest is only just beginning. If you think my strength hasn't recovered, I'll make sure you see for yourself."
Basil Bertram drifted to within three or four meters of Xu Fu and stopped.
"Hmph, if your strength really has recovered, I wouldn't have come out myself. I just want to end the fourth round quickly."