Immortality Starts With Face

A palpable, almost electric silence descended upon the Qingshan Martial Arts Arena, so profound that the chirping of a distant cicada sounded like a thunderclap.

Lin Feng, the genius of the Azure Cloud Sect, the direct disciple of one of the strongest cultivators in the entire province, stood resolute in the center of the ravaged arena floor, his youthful face set with a fierce, almost fervent determination. His Earth-aspected Qi, remarkably dense for one of his age, was already beginning to coalesce around him, causing the very dust at his feet to tremble and rise in tiny, obedient eddies.

Across from him, Shadow remained an enigmatic silhouette, his hands now lowered by his sides, his black-clad form utterly still, his posture utterly relaxed – yet exuding an aura of unshakable, almost predatory confidence that seemed to drink in the very sunlight.

The challenge, so audaciously accepted, hung heavy in the air.

The crowd's excitement was palpable: after all, this was no longer a mere exhibition against local "mortal" masters. This was now a confrontation between two extraordinary talents, one – a proven Martial Grandmaster of unknown origin; the other – a cultivation genius from one of the province's most powerful sects.

Lin Feng, with the characteristic impatience of youth, initiated the attack.

He did not, however, launch a direct assault.

Instead, with a sharp stomp of his right foot and a series of swift, intricate hand seals that blurred in the afternoon light, he demonstrated his formidable control over the element of Earth. The packed, dry surface of the arena floor groaned, then shifted with a sound like tearing canvas. Six vaguely humanoid statues, each man-high and crudely formed from compressed soil, pebbles, and broken flagstones, rose ponderously from the ground, their movements a little stiff and slow – but their sheer bulk undeniably imposing. This was the Earthen Sentinel technique, which formed earthen puppets animated by Lin Feng's will.

Up in the VIP box, City Lord Zhang Wei, excitedly leaning forward in his seat, let out a low whistle of appreciation.

"Remarkable control for one so young!" he murmured to Jiang Yue, who sat beside him, her expression a mixture of interest and professional assessment.

"Those earth puppets… they don't look individually powerful, certainly, but six of them…"

Jiang Yue nodded, her eyes narrowed as she gauged the constructs.

"They're slow, yes," she agreed, "…and their individual Qi signatures are quite weak, probably equivalent to an early Qi Gathering cultivator at best. But together… that's six opponents, each with a degree of mindless persistence. More than a match for any one of those three masters Shadow just dispatched, I'd wager! Young Lin Feng is not to be underestimated. His reputation as a genius is clearly well-earned."

Down in the arena, the six earth sentinels, their forms still solidifying, lumbered towards Shadow, their heavy fists swinging in clumsy, predictable arcs. Simultaneously, Lin Feng, maintaining a safe distance behind his summoned guard, began to pelt Shadow with a barrage of rock bullets – small, incredibly dense projectiles he compressed from the arena floor with a mere thought, launching them with considerable speed and accuracy.

The projectiles whistled continuously through the air like angry hornets, while the animated figures closed in.

Shadow dodged everything with an almost disdainful ease.

He weaved through the golems' clumsy, telegraphed attacks, a whisper of black cloth against the brown earth, making them punch empty air or – with a subtle shift of his weight – even causing them to collide ponderously with each other, sending up showers of dirt and pebbles.

The rock bullets, each one aimed with deadly precision, whistled harmlessly past him, none coming even close to even touching his garments. Shadow's perception seemed transcendent, allowing him to anticipate their trajectory effortlessly, to move a fraction of an inch just before impact.

It was clear to the discerning eyes in the VIP box that neither combatant was truly exerting themselves yet.

They were probing each other.

Testing defenses.

Gauging reactions and capabilities.

These were merely the opening moves in a deadly chess match.

Shadow, apparently growing bored with this elementary game of evasion against rocks and lumbering statues, suddenly sidestepped the last grasping golem with a fluid, almost contemptuous movement – and made a swift, direct approach towards Lin Feng himself.

Just as he neared what would have been striking distance for a conventional martial artist, Lin Feng, who had been watching Shadow's effortless dance with a deepening frown, smirked. A flash of youthful arrogance, of absolute confidence in his superior cultivation, crossed his face. With a sharp cry, he slammed his palms against each other. "Razor Earth Fortress!"

Instantly, a formidable barrier of jagged, razor-sharp earth spikes, each one thicker than a man's thigh and taller than Shadow himself, erupted from the arena floor between them – a rampart of countless deadly pikes pointing at the aggressor, blocking Shadow's path.

Shadow didn't falter.

He attempted to utilize the Shadowless Step movement technique, his form flickering as he aimed to rapidly circle his opponent, seeking a gap in the newly formed defense.

However, Lin Feng's defensive technique was indeed formidable. Even more giant earth spikes, sharp as a dragon's teeth, shot diagonally from the ground with astonishing speed. They perfectly mirrored Shadow's movements, extending the wall, creating an almost impenetrable, ever-shifting fortress of jagged, razor-sharp earth around the young genius.

Lin Feng's smirk widened with superior, almost pitying confidence. The message was clear:

You cannot reach me, mortal!

Up in the VIP box, City Lord Meng of Fallen Star City, who had been watching with a mixture of apprehension and morbid curiosity, shook his head, a smug, knowing look settling on his portly features.

"It is over, I believe," he pronounced to those around him, his voice carrying a note of finality.

"No matter how skilled a Martial Artist may be, no matter how many local brawlers he can defeat, a mortal can never truly compare to a Spirit Qi cultivator who can command the very elements with devastating spells. Grandmaster Shadow should never have accepted this foolish challenge. He should have bowed out gracefully when he had the chance! Now, he can only be humiliated."

Jiang Yue frowned deeply, her gaze fixed intently on the black-clad figure below, who seemed entirely unperturbed by the spiky prison.

"I… wouldn't be quite so certain about that, City Lord Meng," she retorted, her voice cool and steady.

"This Shadow… I do not think we have seen everything there is to see from him. Don't you feel it? He's far too calm! He must still be holding back!"

And indeed, in the arena below, Shadow, facing the impenetrable wall of continuously shifting spikes, also smirked beneath his mask – a silent, mocking echo of Lin Feng's own youthful arrogance.

Then, to the utter astonishment of the crowd, and the cultivators in the VIP box, he did something entirely unexpected.

Something that seemed to defy the very laws of mortal martial arts.

He leaped; an explosive, gravity-defying bound high into the air, his trajectory a graceful arc that would – if completed – take him clear over the highest of the earthen spikes and directly towards Lin Feng, who stood protected at the center of his "fortress."

Lin Feng reacted instantly, his eyes widening slightly at Shadow's audacity, but his confidence unshaken. His hands gestured upwards and, with a guttural cry, he directed a massive pillar of earth, as thick as a large tree, to rise from the ground directly beneath his opponent, surging upwards like an angry, stone-fisted titan.

He aimed to intercept Shadow in mid-air; perhaps swatting him from the sky like an annoying fly.

But, it was not to be.

Shadow, at the very apex of his jump, his body silhouetted against the bright afternoon sky, did something truly radical – something that made every martial artist present gasp, their eyes widening in sheer, unadulterated disbelief.

He kicked at empty air.

A visible, tangible pulse of the colorless, heat-haze-like Xue Qi erupted from the sole of his black shoe.

Then, for a breathtaking, impossible instant, this expelled Xue Qi condensed, forming a small, shimmering, and quite solid disc-like platform, suspended in mid-air.

A collective, audible gasp swept through much of the entire arena, a sound of a countless people witnessing a miracle – or an aberration. Even Elder Yue Qingxue's usually impassive eyes widened almost imperceptibly, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing her flawless features.

Ling Qi cultivators could fly, yes. Beginning at the Foundation Establishment stage. With special artifacts or advanced techniques.

But for a mere Martial Artist, powered only by Xue Qi, to be able to create a solid anchor in empty air… it was unheard of.

Unthinkable!

Using this makeshift "Xue Qi platform" as a launching point, Shadow pushed off with explosive force, his trajectory changing instantly, his body accelerating horizontally with blinding speed, far faster than Lin Feng's rising earth pillar could hope to keep up. He shot across the intervening space like a black arrow.

In the blink of an eye, before Lin Feng could even begin to comprehend this impossible aerial maneuver, let alone react to it, Shadow was upon him!

His open palm connected with Lin Feng's cheek with a resounding, almost comical smack that echoed through the suddenly silent Arena. It wasn't a truly damaging blow, but it was a deeply, exquisitely humiliating one for the proud young genius of the Azure Cloud Sect.

Taking advantage of young Feng's shock, that blow was then immediately followed by a series of impossibly quick, almost invisible finger jabs -- Shadow's hand a blur against Lin Feng's fine sect robes, striking several, seemingly random points on his torso and shoulders with pinpoint precision.

Lin Feng cried out, a sound of surprise and pain. The force of the jabs sent him flying out of his protective "Razor Earth Fortress." The connection to the defenses apparently severed, he tumbled through the air to land prone and gasping on the dusty arena floor a dozen paces away, dazed and disoriented.

Shadow landed gracefully, as silently as a falling leaf, a few feet from the downed Lin Feng. He approached calmly, his hands once again clasped comfortably behind his back.

"It's over, kid," his distorted voice was surprisingly gentle, almost paternal.

"A nice match, though! You have considerable talent for your age. Keep practicing!" He extended a black-gloved hand to help the young cultivator up, a gesture of magnanimity showing no hard feelings.

Lin Feng glared up at the offered hand, his face a mask of profound, unbearable shame. For a moment, he looked as if he was about to take it, his own hand trembling as it rose…

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Then, with a guttural snarl of defiance, he chose a different path. It would seem that the young Genius could not, would not, accept such a humiliating defeat at the hands of a mere Martial Artist.

Instead of taking Shadow's proffered hand, he slammed his own palms flat onto the ground beneath him and roared – a sound of pure, untamed rage. An immense, terrifying wave of Earth Qi, far more potent than anything he had displayed thus far, erupted from him; from the very ground itself!

Another collective gasp, this one laced with genuine fear, swept through the crowd.

The arena floor beneath and around Shadow practically liquefied. The packed earth suddenly churned and roiled like a stormy, muddy sea. Hundreds – perhaps thousands – of grasping, muddy hands, formed from the very soil itself, erupted from the undulating surface: clawing, reaching, their earthen fingers seeking to drag Shadow down into their suffocating embrace.

Seemingly caught by surprise, Shadow attempted to evade, his form becoming a blur of motion. And, against all odds, he successfully avoided dozens of the grasping, muddy appendages, his movements a whirlwind of improbable dodges.

But the sheer, overwhelming number of hands; the treacherous, constantly shifting ground beneath his feet; and the shocking, unexpected ferocity of Lin Feng's counterattack… proved too much. One of the smaller and thinner "hands" shot up at an unexpected angle, ensnaring Shadow's ankle with surprising, unyielding strength. With a vicious, triumphant tug, it pulled him under the churning, roiling earth.

He vanished from sight entirely, swallowed by the enraged soil.

Up in the VIP box, Jiang Yue leaped to her feet, her face a mask of cold fury, her own Foundation Establishment aura flaring dangerously.

"No!" Her voice, sharp with alarm and anger, cut through the sudden, horrified silence. "That was a dishonorable strike! The match was already over, and Shadow had even offered his hand! Stop this at once!"

City Lord Meng, however, scoffed, a smug, self-satisfied look returning to his portly features.

"On the contrary, Lady Jiang, this is perfectly legal! Perfectly within the bounds of a true life-or-death struggle, which this clearly is. The match was never officially called by an arbiter, nor did one of the combatants verbally concede. It was Grandmaster Shadow's own foolishness for assuming victory and lowering his guard against a cultivator of the esteemed Azure Cloud Sect. A harsh lesson, perhaps – but a valid one in this unforgiving world."

Elder Yue Qingxue remained silent, her expression stony, but a deep, almost imperceptible frown was etching itself between her perfect brows. She seemed… displeased, profoundly so, with something she was witnessing – though what exactly troubled her was unclear.

Below, in the arena, Lin Feng, his face contorted with a mixture of monumental effort and a savage, desperate triumph, decisively made a fist with his right hand.

"Underworld Prison Burial!" he screamed.

The earth around the spot where Shadow had disappeared rapidly, violently, compressed inwards and downwards with a sickening crunching sound that made many spectators physically recoil.

The crowd gasped in collective, visceral horror.

Some of the women in the stands screamed, covering their mouths.

A few children, who had been watching the earlier, more playful parts of the fight with wide-eyed wonder, burst into tears and looked away, burying their faces in their parents' robes, their innocent illusions of "heroic martial arts" shattered.

Even the usually worldly and composed martial artists, who had come to enjoy the spectacle, looked pale and visibly shaken – some faces looking decidedly green at the sight.

The festive atmosphere of the morning was utterly shattered, replaced by a grim, fearful, almost funereal silence.

…

City Lord Meng looked pleased, adopting a self-satisfied, knowing smirk – like a cat that's finally eaten the canary.

"Do you see now? This is the inevitable outcome when a mere mortal—"

…but he stopped abruptly mid-sentence, his own eyes suddenly widening, his jaw dropping slightly as he stared, along with everyone else, at the compressed, now still, patch of earth on the arena floor.

An overwhelming, suffocating Xue Qi aura – the same powerful, vital signature Shadow had displayed earlier, but now amplified by twenty times at the very least – erupted violently from beneath the arena floor.

Chunks of rock and soil, some as large as small boulders, were blasted upwards as if from a subterranean volcanic eruption, creating a deep, ragged crater where Shadow had been entombed.

The crowd screamed in terror as these dense earthen shards, propelled by an unimaginable force, flew as deadly shrapnel towards the stands.

Yet, just as the debris was about to impact the spectators, a shimmering, multi-layered golden barrier, interwoven with complex, glowing runes, suddenly flared into existence around the entirety of the seating areas. Hundreds of previously invisible, mid-grade defense talismans – meticulously laid out by Jiang Li himself in the days leading up to the exhibition – activated in perfect, synchronized unison. The barrier effortlessly deflected every projectile, every rock, every clod of earth, protecting the crowd from any hint of harm.

Not even so much as a stray grain of dirt reached the audience.

And, as the dust began to settle, a dark silhouette – standing calmly, impossibly, in the center of the newly formed, steaming crater – slowly came into focus.

Shadow.

He was covered in dust and grime, his black clothes torn in places, his outer cloak utterly shredded – but he stood unbroken, his Xue Qi a veritable maelstrom around him, far denser, far more palpable than anything anyone present had ever witnessed from a martial artist.

The very air itself trembled and warped around his form.

Practically everyone in the arena – from the poorest mortal to the most esteemed of cultivators in the VIP box – was holding their breath in stunned, disbelieving shock.

In the stands, Master Gao Shan, his face ashen, quietly whispered to himself in a choked, awestruck voice, "by the ancestors… that pressure… is that… truly Xue Qi?"

Suddenly, Shadow's distorted voice, now laced with an icy, terrifying rage, cut through the shocked silence like a shard of ice.

"I went easy on you… you little shit," he said, his masked gaze locking upon Lin Feng, who was staring in wide-eyed, uncomprehending horror from across the crater.

"This was to be a friendly exhibition match. A chance to safely exchange pointers. To entertain the good people of Qingshan and esteemed guests. But, evidently," Shadow's voice dripped with palpable contempt, "the concepts of honor and sportsmanship are utterly lost on the disciples of the esteemed Azure Cloud Sect. Then... allow me to impart a valuable lesson in their true meaning."

Shadow disappeared.

Not with a flicker.

Not with a blur of motion that would have been perceptible to most cultivators present.

No. He simply seemed to vanish from where he was standing, accelerating far too quickly for the naked eye to follow, leaving behind only a faint crack of displaced air.

And, for the next several agonizing moments, Lin Feng experienced what it was like to be a leaf battered by a hurricane.

Shadow would appear in a flash of utterly silent movement directly beside him, a black-clad fist – or foot – connecting with a sickening, bone-jarring thud, sending him flying helplessly in one direction, a choked cry torn from his lips.

Then, Shadow would vanish again, only to reappear ahead of the still-airborne Lin Feng, intercepting him with another brutal, precisely aimed blow from a different angle, sending him careening in a new, uncontrolled trajectory.

This process repeated, again and again: another silent appearance, another brutal impact, Lin Feng sailing through the air like a broken puppet, Shadow reappearing with impossible speed to deliver yet another devastating strike.

Each impact was clearly audible, a sickening counterpoint to the stunned silence of the crowd.

Each blow sent Lin Feng higher and higher into the air, his body flailing, his attempts to form defensive Qi constructs and earthen shields utterly useless against Shadow's impossible speed and relentless, punishing assault.

The Azure Cloud's Genius was outmatched.

Outmaneuvered.

And utterly overwhelmed.

After at least a dozen brutal, disorienting hits, with Lin Feng now a good thirty feet in the air, Shadow suddenly appeared directly above him: a dark silhouette floating serenely against the indifferent blue of the afternoon sky.

Then, with a single, gracefully raised leg, poised for a breathtaking moment like a striking black crane, he delivered a brutal-looking axe kick directly downwards.

Shadow's heel, imbued with a terrifying force of his condensed Xue Qi, connected with Lin Feng's chest with devastating force. The young cultivator was shot downwards into the already-cratered arena floor like a piledriver, the impact seeming to shake the very ground, sending up another choking cloud of dust and debris.

Dead silence fell upon the audience.

Even the distant, mating Cicadas seemed to have ceased their song.

When the dust settled this time, Lin Feng lay sprawled in the center of a new – if smaller – crater.

He was bruised.

Bleeding in places.

His fine sect robes were reduced to little more than tattered rags.

However, due to the increased toughness of cultivators in the late stages of Qi Refining – especially those with the particularly sturdy Earth affinity – he was still quite alive… and even conscious! Certainly not hurt beyond recovery… though it was clear that at least a handful of bones were broken.

Shadow landed lightly, silently, beside him, looking down with an expression of utter contempt that was palpable even through the mask.

Then, with a final, dismissive glance, he turned his back upon the defeated, broken youth and began to slowly walk away.

Lin Feng, however, was not yet finished.

Fueled by a potent cocktail of physical pain, incandescent rage, and the shattered remnants of his prodigious pride, he pushed himself up to a sitting position.

"Don't you dare… turn your back on me, you coward!" he shrieked, his voice raw and cracking with madness.

"This fight… it isn't over… until I say it is! AAAAARRRRGGGGG!"

With a final surge of his remaining Earth Qi – far more power than any Qi Gathering disciple, even a supposed "genius," would reasonably be expected to possess – he plunged his trembling hands deep into the ravaged earth of the arena floor.

The ground around him began to churn and coalesce with an even greater ferocity than before!

Massive amounts of earth flowed towards Lin Feng, rapidly forming into an enormous, twenty-foot-tall, vaguely humanoid giant, an "Earth-Titan" of packed soil and jagged rock, with Lin Feng himself embedded high up within its chest, where the "face" or "head" of the colossal statue would otherwise be, glaring down at Shadow's retreating form with an expression of murderous intent.

Up in the VIP box, Jiang Yue gasped, her eyes wide with genuine shock this time, a professional warrior's respect warring with her concern.

"Is that... a true Foundation Establishment level earth manipulation technique?" she whispered, more to herself than to nearby Zhang Wei. "He's actually forcing its manifestation while still in the Qi Refining stage! Just how large are his reserves?"

Down below in what was left of the arena, without even turning around, without even breaking stride, Shadow merely shook his head, a gesture of almost sad, weary disappointment.

His distorted voice was quiet, yet it carried clearly across the stunned arena.

"No, it truly is over, kid. Don't you see? This fight was over the moment I touched you the first time."

He raised one black-gloved hand, and with a theatrical, almost casual air…

Snapped his fingers.

The sound was small, insignificant, almost lost in the vastness of the arena.

Yet, its effect was instantaneous, and catastrophic.

High up in his earthen titan, Lin Feng suddenly seized violently. His eyes rolled back in his head until only the whites were visible, and he coughed up a large, dark gout of blood.

His control over his Qi – and therefore, over the massive earthen construct – was immediately and dramatically destroyed.

The twenty-foot-tall Earth-Titan, its power source suddenly severed, shuddered, cracked, and then – with a loud, grinding sound – collapsed into a small mountain of loose soil, dust, and scattered rock.

Lin Feng himself tumbled ignominiously from its dissolving remnants, landing hard and limp upon the unforgiving ground, apparently unconscious at last.

In the VIP box, City Lord Meng, his face ashen, his earlier smugness replaced by a slack-jawed incredulity – and more than a hint of fear – stammered:

"W-what… in the name of the Merciful Heavens just happened?"

Elder Yue Qingxue's eyes were distant, her voice almost a whisper, as if she were talking to herself, trying to make sense of the impossible events she had just witnessed.

"…A delayed meridian blocking technique…" she murmured, her gaze fixed on the still, small figure of Shadow, who had not even deigned to look back at his opponent.

"He must have injected Xue Qi through young Feng's acupoints and directly into his meridians during those initial finger jabs, disrupting the internal Qi flow in key junctures, creating latent blockages. But to know exactly where and how to do it… and for the effect to remain dormant for so long… only to be triggered remotely… and from such a long distance…"

She slowly shook her head, a single, almost imperceptible tremor. A flicker of something unreadable crossed her icy eyes.

"...What a monster."

She whispered the last word, her voice barely audible even to herself in the stunned silence.

Before anyone else could react, before the full implications of what they had witnessed could truly sink in, she disappeared from the VIP box in a sudden, silent swirl of coalescing snowflakes, reappearing an instant later on the arena floor beside her fallen, disgraced disciple. Without a word, she unceremoniously lifted the unconscious Lin Feng by the waist – almost like one would grab a sack of potatoes.

She gave Shadow a single, curt nod.

Then, with another swirl of icy mist and snowflakes, she and her disciple vanished from the arena.

In the aftermath, the arena floor was an absolute disaster, looking now like the surface of some barren, war-torn moon, pockmarked with deep craters and strewn with mountains of torn-up earth and shattered rock.

For several long, stunned moments, there was absolute, deafening silence.

Then, as if a dam had finally broken, the crowd erupted!

A single, unified, deafening roar of cheers, a wave of pure, unadulterated adulation for the victor, crashed against the arena walls, shaking the very foundations of Qingshan Town.

"SHADOW! SHADOW! SHADOW!"

The crowd chanted in unison, their voices raw with excitement.

With awe.

With a dawning, almost religious fervor.

Shadow, the enigmatic figure in black, slowly turned around.

He raised a single, black-gloved fist triumphantly into the air.

Then, before the cheers could even begin to subside, he, too, disappeared in a blur of his infamous Shadowless Step movement technique, vanishing as enigmatically as he had arrived.

+++

About half a minute later, just as the first wave of ecstatic townsfolk began to surge towards the now-empty arena floor, eager to touch the ground where their new hero had once stood, Jiang Li, clad in his most ostentatious, attention-grabbing robes – the brilliant, almost blindingly bright red and gold silk ensemble embroidered with the coiling "celestial dragons" – strolled casually, almost languidly, into the VIP box.

An expression of polite, slightly befuddled curiosity was plastered on his handsome face.

"Ah, I'm back!" he announced cheerfully to the stunned occupants of the box.

"So terribly sorry for the delay, my friends! Urgent family matters, you understand. Goodness, what a racket out there!"

He surveyed the still-chanting, practically delirious crowd ("Shadow! Shadow! Shadow!"), then his gaze swept over the absolutely destroyed arena floor, and finally settled upon the emotional faces of everyone in the VIP box.

He blinked, his expression one of innocent confusion.

"Wait… what did I miss?"

He was met with a sea of incredulous, utterly speechless stares.