Chapter 350: Incineration of the White Tiger

Chapter 350: Chapter 350: Incineration of the White Tiger

Tora reached into his robes.

His hand came out holding a crimson pill, veins of black running through its core like corrupted blood.

The Beast-Frenzy Pill.

He crushed it between his teeth.

The effect was immediate.

His muscles swelled, tearing through his robes as his body expanded to twice its normal size.

His bones cracked and reformed, thicker, denser, laced with dark energy that pulsed through his veins like living shadows.

His eyes turned blood red.

He roared.

The sound was not human.

It was the cry of a beast that had abandoned all reason, all restraint, all sense of self.

He charged.

His speed was monstrous, a blur of muscle and rage that crossed the arena in less than a heartbeat. His claw came down, aimed at Flare’s head.

She was already moving.

Her footwork was fluid, elegant, the movements of a dancer who knew the rhythm of the storm.

She swayed left. The claw missed by an inch.

She pivoted right. The follow-up strike grazed her hair.

She was a leaf in the wind, untouchable, unshakeable.

’She’s using the footwork I taught her,’ Damon thought, watching from the dugout.

’The yang qi balancing is working.’

Flare’s blade moved.

A ribbon of golden-crimson fire sliced through the air, cutting across Tora’s extended arm.

His tendon snapped.

He roared in pain.

But he didn’t stop.

He swung again, wild and uncontrolled, his berserk state numbing the pain.

Flare ducked under the swing and rose, her blade tracing another arc of fire across his chest.

His skin split. Blood sizzled.

He staggered.

She didn’t let him recover.

She moved around him like a whirlwind of flame, each step precise, each strike deliberate.

Ribbon after ribbon of fire cut into his body, severing tendons, slicing muscles, reducing his berserk power to a controlled burn.

He was a monster.

She was a surgeon.

And she was cutting him apart.

Tora’s regeneration slowed. His berserk state was burning through his life force.

He knew he had one chance left.

He gathered all his remaining power into his claws, the dark energy condensing into twin blades of shadow and light.

He lunged.

It was his final attack.

Flare met it head on.

She channeled her full bloodline into the Inferno Phoenix Blade, the blade glowing white-hot as she swung it upward in a crescent arc.

The phoenix screamed.

The crescent wave of white-hot fire erupted from her blade, a blade of pure heat that cut through the air like a scythe through wheat.

It met Tora’s claws.

The claws shattered.

The wave continued.

It hit Tora square in the chest.

He flew backward, his body a blur of charred flesh and broken bone, crashing through the perimeter barrier like it was paper.

He didn’t stop until he hit the medical pavilion wall.

He was embedded in the stone, his body smoking, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow.

He was alive.

But he was done.

The crowd was silent.

Then they exploded.

The roar was deafening, a wave of sound that shook the colosseum.

Damon watched Flare.

She was breathing hard, her blade still raised, her body trembling with exhaustion.

But her eyes were bright.

She had done it.

She had beaten the White Tiger Sect’s strongest fighter.

And she had done it using the techniques he had taught her.

’That’s my phoenix,’ he thought again.

Grand Marshal Vane’s voice cut through the noise.

"WHITE TIGER SECT! SEND YOUR NEXT FIGHTER!"

The White Tiger dugout was silent.

Two disciples stood at the entrance, their faces pale, their hands shaking.

They looked at each other.

They looked at the smoking crater where their captain had been.

They looked at Flare, standing in the center of the arena, her blade still glowing with residual heat.

They stepped onto the arena floor.

Their steps were slow, hesitant, the steps of men who knew they were walking to their deaths.

Flare didn’t give them time to reconsider.

She raised her blade.

A pressurized wave of heat erupted from it, a wall of scorching air that hit the first disciple before he could raise his guard.

He flew backward, his robes on fire, his body slamming into the barrier.

He didn’t get up.

The second disciple tried to run.

Flare’s heat wave caught him mid-stride, sending him tumbling across the arena floor until he hit the wall.

He stayed down.

Grand Marshal Vane struck the gong.

"AZURE DRAGON SECT WINS 7-1!"

The crowd went wild.

Damon smiled.

’She didn’t even break a sweat.’

Flare turned to face him.

She was breathing hard, her body glistening with sweat, her eyes burning with triumph.

She walked toward him, her boots leaving scorch marks on the cracked arena floor.

The crowd parted like water around a stone, their cheers fading into hushed reverence as she passed.

She stopped in front of him, close enough that he could feel the residual heat radiating from her skin, could smell the ozone and ash clinging to her robes.

"I told you I wasn’t yours," she said, her voice carrying a hint of breathlessness from the exertion.

Damon raised an eyebrow, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "And yet you used my techniques."

She smirked, the expression sharp and confident. "I borrowed them."

"Borrowed?" He tilted his head, his golden eyes glinting with amusement.

"Temporarily." She held his gaze, unflinching.

Damon laughed, a genuine, warm sound that echoed across the arena. Flare’s smirk softened, melting into a genuine smile that reached her predatory orange eyes.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice dropping to a whisper that only he could hear.

Damon nodded, his expression turning serious. "You earned it."

Grand Marshal Vane struck the gong again, the deep, resonant sound vibrating through the air.

"AZURE DRAGON SECT ADVANCES TO THE SEMIFINALS!"

The arena erupted in cheers. Banners waved, voices roared, and the ground trembled with the collective joy of thousands.

Damon turned to his team. 𝐟𝑟ⅇ

Ariel was crying tears of joy, her vivid blue eyes sparkling as she clutched her trident to her chest.

Mio and Mia were hugging each other, their deep purple hair tangling as they laughed and cried simultaneously.

Seraphina was smiling, a rare, genuine expression that softened her sharp features.

Alena was already taking notes, her forest-green eyes scanning the battlefield, her lips moving as she muttered observations to herself.

Selene was nodding in approval, her platinum-white hair swaying as she gave a rare, almost imperceptible nod of respect toward Flare.

And Flare was standing beside him, her hand on her blade, her eyes on the horizon.

The semifinals awaited.

And Damon was ready.

He looked up at the royal box.

King Aurelius Solaris was watching him.

The king smiled.

Damon smiled back.

The game is just beginning.

And Flare was standing beside him, her hand on her blade, her eyes on the horizon.

The semifinals awaited.

And Damon was ready.

He looked up at the royal box.

King Aurelius Solaris was watching him.

The king smiled.

Damon smiled back.

’The game is just beginning.’