Qingge’s face did not change—but her eyes grew colder, a frost creeping beneath the calm.

Ji Yue’s mocking voice murmured in her mind, smooth as silk.

“Humans are always like this. When you’re weak, they grind you beneath their heels. When you shine, they grovel at your feet.”

Across the arena, Ye Qingqing stepped forward and bowed smartly to Ye Yu.

“Second Sister, Ye Qingge came here to provoke us. She insulted the branch family, acting as if none of us mattered. I beg you—please uphold justice for our side.”

Ye Yu’s brows furrowed. “Oh? There’s truth to this?”

Her gaze fell upon Qingge, voice hardening to ice.

“Ye Qingge, though the Grand Elder may favor you, you’ve grown far too lawless. The Night family stands united—main and branch alike. Our code forbids using rank to suppress kin. You’ve done nothing for this family and yet you bully your peers?”

Qingge lowered her lashes, calm and unmoved, her voice soft as drifting wind.

“Those who wish to condemn will always find a charge.”

When she lifted her head again, the last rays of sunset burst across her eyes like molten gold. For an instant, her beauty struck like lightning—radiant, deadly, unearthly.

From the sidelines, Beiyue Ming frowned faintly.

Ye Qingge… seemed different somehow.

Sensing his distraction, Ye Yu’s temper flared.

“How dare you argue back?” she barked. “Kneel!”

Ye Qingqing folded her arms, smirking coldly from the side.

Qingge’s lips curved. “Ah, like father, like daughter,” she murmured. “When you lack reason, you command others to kneel.”

Her voice dropped to a deadly calm. “I told you before—within the Night family, I answer only to the Grand Elder.”

With that, she turned her back and started toward the Qiankun Stone.

Ye Yu’s face darkened, fury twisting her features. Her hawk-like eyes glinted with killing intent as she unsheathed her spirit blade.

With a single motion, she slashed through the air.

A streak of azure light burst forth, cutting through the wind like thunder—striking Qingge squarely in the back.

Crack!

Her dark-green robe split open, revealing a gash deep to the bone. Blood sprayed, hot and bright, spattering across the stone floor.

Qingge staggered, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth. The pain tore through her spine, but she refused to fall. Turning slowly, she met Ye Yu’s gaze as the woman advanced, blade gleaming with frost.

Ye Yu, mid-stage Innate Fourth Level—short-tempered and merciless in combat.

“Kneel,” she ordered again, eyes flicking briefly toward Beiyue Ming. When she saw his expression soften, she raised her chin proudly and pressed forward.

Qingge bit down hard. Compared to rebuilding her dantian, this pain was nothing. Still, the raw sting of torn flesh made her brows twitch.

She was only at Innate Third Stage—strong enough to crush Ye Qingqing, but against Ye Yu, the difference was vast.

Yet even so… she would never kneel.

Seeing her defiance, Ye Yu’s fury surged. Feeling her authority challenged, she flipped her wrist and brought the blade down in a vicious arc toward Qingge’s right shoulder.

At the last instant, Qingge lunged forward—catching the sword’s edge barehanded. Blood spattered as steel sliced into her palm.

With her free hand, she drew a silver hairpin from her hair and pressed it against Ye Yu’s neck.

“Such arrogance, Second Miss.”

Her voice was low and cold.

Blood dripped steadily down the blade, trailing crimson along her sleeve and pooling on the stones beneath her feet.

Ye Yu met her eyes—and froze.

Those eyes—black, fathomless, silent—like the first sword to split chaos from creation. A void that devoured all light.

For one heartbeat, Ye Yu felt true fear.

A chill rose from the depths of her soul.