Infinite Fire Record

Chapter 26: Victory over me, in leaving

The Southern Mountain loomed in the distance, its peaks shrouded in mist.

Zhongnan Mountain lay silent, desolate, its solemn presence stretching across the land. In front of the ancient tomb stood a young man—his face pale as jade, his silver hair glistening like snow. His sword-like brows framed cold, calculating eyes, and the faintest of smiles curled at the corner of his lips, carrying a trace of indifference.

Imperial Sky.

He raised his right hand and made a sweeping motion through the air. A ripple followed, as though the very void stirred at his command. The force was immense, unfathomable.

He exhaled slowly, his thoughts sinking into the depths of his power. With a single motion, he swung his hand.

Rumble…!

A deafening explosion shattered the stillness.

Imperial Sky’s lips curved slightly, a glimmer flashing in his eyes. “The power within my grasp contains boundless Qi. I have stepped into the realm of a Combatant One Star. My combat Qi has begun its endless rotation.” His gaze turned inward, observing his body—his flesh crystalline, his bones as if sculpted from ice jade. The potent effects of the Red Gold Dragon Marrow Dan, obtained from the Medicine Clan Technique, had refined his form. Now, his blood and Qi blazed like the sun itself.

A faint smirk played on his lips, laced with amusement.

He lifted his right hand, his thumb and forefinger coming together in a precise snap, the remaining fingers unfurling slightly—an elegant, orchid-like gesture. His stance was refined, deliberate. The movement exuded both grace and lethality.

Orchid Whisking Hands

With a soft flick of his fingers, an orchid seemed to bloom in his grasp.

Ding bell…!

A crisp chime rang out—only to be abruptly stifled.

A woman in white had appeared. Her expression, as pale and serene as her jade-like complexion, betrayed no emotion. Her eyes, cold and distant, lacked the warmth of sentiment.

Little Dragon Lady.

The white ribbon in her hand fluttered, its end adorned with a silver bell. The delicate chime had been intercepted, caught within the graceful snare of Imperial Sky’s orchid-like fingers.

Imperial Sky turned, his fingers tightening ever so slightly. The bell trembled in his grasp before coming to a halt.

His gaze flickered with amusement. “Thirtieth time. You still failed.”

His voice was light, indifferent, carrying a teasing edge.

Little Dragon Lady’s face remained impassive, her icy gaze piercing through him. After a moment of silence, she retracted the ribbon, the silver bell returning to coil around her arm.

Without shifting her expression, she spoke. “You have lingered in the ancient tomb for quite some time. You have used the Cold Jade Bed. Your power has already advanced. Why do you not leave?”

Imperial Sky closed his eyes briefly, inhaling the stillness around him. When he spoke, his tone was unhurried. “Why should I leave?”

Little Dragon Lady’s voice was unwavering. “You will leave.”

Imperial Sky tilted his head slightly. “Can you defeat me?”

Little Dragon Lady shook her head without hesitation. “I cannot.”

Imperial Sky smirked. “Then, I will not leave.”

Little Dragon Lady turned without another word. Her silent steps carried her toward the tomb’s entrance, her white robes flowing like drifting snow.

Imperial Sky exhaled, his gaze shifting toward the distant forest. A faint curve lifted his lips, but his eyes gleamed with something sharper.

A flash of silver streaked through the air. Lethal. Precise.

Aghhh…!

A wretched scream pierced the quiet night.

Imperial Sky’s cold expression remained unchanged. A trace of killing intent flickered in his gaze. His voice, low and chilling, carried through the air. “Losing your right arm is but a warning. Next time, you will not leave at all.”

The sounds of frantic retreat followed. A flash of green robes, spattered with blood, disappeared into the woods.

Imperial Sky scoffed. “Hmph… As for you, both arms will suffice.”

“Spare me—!”

The plea was cut short as twin streaks of crimson splattered through the night. The green-robed figure staggered, his panicked form vanishing into the depths of the forest.

Imperial Sky’s killing intent slowly receded. His expression cooled into indifference. “The Burning Decree is not yet complete. It is best not to stir unnecessary trouble. Even if I do not fear the Seven Sons of Quanzhen, the constant harassment of the Quanzhen Sect is an unwelcome distraction. First, I will perfect the Burning Decree. Then, two will die. As for the rest of the sect… I will decide when the time comes.”

His words fell into the silent night, carrying the weight of inevitability.

He turned, striding back toward the depths of the tomb.

Time passed. A month slipped by in the blink of an eye.

Imperial Sky dwelled in darkness, his sharp gaze cutting through the void.

Opposite him, clad in white, stood Little Dragon Lady. Her face was paler than before, almost sickly. Yet the coldness in her expression had softened—though only slightly.

Imperial Sky studied her, his voice unreadable. “This is the hundredth time. Before, you always lost in one move. Let us see what you have learned.”

Little Dragon Lady’s gaze remained icy. Her pale hands gripped a silver ribbon, the fabric rippling like flowing water.

She moved.

The silver ribbon sliced through the air with deceptive grace, its motion reminiscent of a gentle dance—fragrant, fluid, mesmerizing.

Imperial Sky’s eyes gleamed. He saw through it in an instant. With a wave of his hand, a surge of power burst forth.

Before, his presence had been merely cold—frigid to the core. Now, he exuded something greater. A presence that did not merely command respect but enforced it.

His aura surged like an unyielding tide. A dragon’s roar echoed within his power.

Fire erupted in his right hand, brilliant and searing. The crimson blaze cleaved through the darkness, stretching into a scorching wind—a blazing river.

The fire met the silver ribbon. In an instant, the fabric split apart, its ethereal grace shattered.

Little Dragon Lady’s brows knit slightly, her gaze unreadable. She flicked her wrist, and from the darkness, silver light gleamed.

Imperial Sky’s smirk deepened. “Jade Peak Needle.”

The crystalline needle—laced with the deadly Jade Peak poison—shot toward him.

Without hesitation, Imperial Sky’s fingers snapped together, plucking the needle from the air with effortless precision.

Orchid Whisking Hands made it simple to seize control.

His gaze darkened as he stared at her. “So this is your final card. Interesting.”

With a flick of his hand, the needle shot toward the stone wall, embedding itself deep within.

Turning on his heel, he strode away.

His voice, drifting through the shadows, was laced with quiet command. “You are still too weak. I will break through again tonight. Do not come near the Cold Jade Bed.”

Little Dragon Lady did not reply. But as she watched his retreating form, a trace of something—curiosity?—flickered in her gaze.