Whispers spread like wildfire. The Iron Cloud Clan had been seen placing Sky Limit Realm formations around the arena's main street. Their seven peak Sage Realm elders moved with purpose, sealing exits, weaving barriers, and anchoring suppression arrays. It was clear—they didn't intend to let Jalen leave.
Spectators lingered, not out of courtesy but curiosity. Everyone wanted to see how this would unfold. Would the unknown young cultivator fight his way out? Would the Flame Clan intervene? Would war erupt between two major clans over a single man?
Inside the Flame Clan residence, Jael paced restlessly.
He turned to his father, fists clenched. "I want to fight. I want to help you."
Jalen looked at him calmly, then reached out and gently patted his son's head. "Stay with Elder Elijah. I'll handle this."
"But Dad, I can't just stand here—"
"I know, son," Jalen said softly. "But you promised me. You said you'd grow stronger than me. That you'd protect your mother and siblings. If you go out there, you're bound to get killed."
Jael's eyes burned. He nodded.
"Remember this feeling," Jalen said. "This helplessness. Let it be a motivation for you to get stronger. So next time, you won't feel powerless."
Those who witnessed the exchange were stunned. Jael—cold, composed, and reserved—looked like a child before his father. The contrast was striking. The champion of the Spirit Fusion Realm, humbled by a single touch.
"Besides," Jalen added, patting his right shoulder, "what kind of father would I be if I put you in harm's way against this type of enemy?"
Jael lowered his head. "The next time we meet, Dad… I'll be strong enough to fight beside you."
"Good." Jalen smiled and patted his head once more. Jael, however, pulled him in for a hug.
"You know you're not small anymore," Jalen said.
"I don't care; you're my dad."
"You know this is a separation, not goodbye forever."
"I know. I just want to hug my dad."
Jalen allowed him, then after some minutes said, "Alright, let go. It's time."
With reluctance, Jael released him.
Jalen turned to Calen, who stood nearby, silent and tense. "Let's go."
"Yes, Master," Calen replied. His voice was steady, but his heart was heavy. Like Jael, he felt powerless. He had trained hard and fought bravely—but now, when it mattered most, he couldn't stand beside his master.
Jalen nodded to Elijah, who approached with a solemn expression.
"Are you sure you don't want me to get involved?" Elijah asked quietly.
Jalen gave a small smile. "Thank you, brother, but I'll handle this."
"Alright. Good luck then."
The Street Confrontation
Jalen stepped out of the residence and onto the arena's main street, where the crowd had gathered. The Iron Cloud Clan's formation shimmered faintly, sealing every exit. Even with breath like dust that allows him to bypass formation and the special ability of luminal edge to break formation, he won't be able to leave this formation as he had done with other formations so easily this time. One Ian wouldn't sit by and allow him to leave. Even if he had tried to sneak away quietly, Ian would have noticed with his spirit sense, which is why Jalen decided to face him or rather stall him.
Jael and Calen now stood with the Flame Clan entourage at the street's edge, watching with clenched fists as his father faced the Iron Cloud Clan alone.
From the Iron Cloud ranks, Elder Ian stepped forward. His aura surged—early Sky Limit Realm, wrapped in iron qi. He raised his blade, and the sky dimmed.
"So you decided to face me instead of running with your tail tucked between your legs," Ian said coldly. "Good. I'll make your death quick."
Jalen didn't respond. He simply raised his hand.
Luminal Edge flared to life—light condensed into a blade so sharp it hummed against reality. Jalen struck first, a horizontal slash that bent space itself, forcing Ian to block with both arms.
The clash echoed like thunder.
Ian roared, unleashing Iron Tempest Form—a relentless barrage of strikes that rained down like meteors. Jalen parried, but Ian's strength was overwhelming. Each blow reverberated through his bones, nearly crushing him. Blood burst from Jalen's lips as he held his ground for a few precious seconds—until his arms finally gave way.
He barely dodged the next strike, stumbling back across the cobblestone street, crashing into vendor stalls, and scattering debris. Before he could regain his footing, Ian was already upon him, blade descending toward his neck.
In a flash, Luminal Edge rose to meet it.
The blades collided with a deafening shockwave that rippled through the entire street. If not for the suppression formation, the destruction would have leveled the district.
Jalen's body cracked under the force. Blood sprayed. His ribs shattered.
Then, with a piercing shriek, Luminal Edge itself fractured—light splintering into shards before dissolving into nothingness.
Ian roared, raising his blade for the final strike. "You're finished!"
He brought the blade down.
Jalen's body exploded—scattering like ash in the wind.
The crowd gasped. Elders surged forward.
Ian frowned. "That… wasn't real." His spirit sense immediately picked up on something, but when he reacted, it was too late.
At the eastern gate exit—where Jalen had identified the formation's weakest link—he struck.
Ebon Severance shimmered into existence from his wrists: twin sabers curved like crescent fangs, supreme-grade spirit tools sealed within him. They didn't gleam. They devoured.
Thread-fused with the tenth technique of his Spirit Flame Art—Nuclear Strike—the blades detonated and caused a break in the formation.
Immediately afterwards, Jalen activated Flash Reversion to escape with Calen.
The elders holding the formation, of course, had tried to contain the breach, but they were seconds too late. Jalen and Calen vanished in a ripple of light.
Fury surged through Ian. His blade trembled with rage as he turned toward Jael, ready to vent his frustration. But Elijah stepped forward, calm yet imposing. Ian hesitated. As powerful as he was, he knew Elijah was stronger—and provoking the Flame Clan over a failed kill would be reckless. The one he truly wanted dead had escaped.
And to make matters worse, that brat in the enlightened realm (Calen) was nowhere in sight either.
With no choice, Ian and his entourage withdrew.
The crowd erupted. Whispers turned to shouts. Gossip spread like wildfire. Some mocked the Iron Cloud Clan, scoffing at how a Sky Limit Realm elder failed to kill a mid-Sage Realm expert. Others were simply awed by the spectacle.
Meanwhile, deep beneath a forest ridge many miles away, Jalen collapsed beside Calen. His breath was ragged. His body trembled. He had burned through every ounce of strength and qi just to survive Ian's onslaught for a few moments.
But he had escaped—thanks to a trick.
So While his real body battled Ian, and his clone disguised as Calen stayed in the crowd, the real Calen hid with another Jalen clone who was analyzing a way out of the formation. At the critical moment, Jalen swapped places with that shadow clone, sacrificing it to break free.
Had Ian known about Jalen's ability to create shadow clones—and shift between them—he wouldn't have escaped so easily.
Well, it wasn't easy. But without that hidden card, escape would've meant greater risk… or death.
In truth, if Ian hadn't been momentarily distracted by Jalen's faked death, he might've sensed the real Jalen still alive—and stopped the breach before it began.
It was all a gamble. But thanks to layers of deception, precise timing, and the cards Jalen never revealed… he got out. Barely.
"Master, are you alright?" Calen asked, voice tight with concern.
Jalen gave a faint smile, gently caressing the boy's head. "Don't worry. I'll be alright."
But Calen's expression only darkened. "If only I weren't so weak, Master…"
"Don't blame yourself," Jalen said softly. He reached into his pocket world and withdrew a cluster of rare herbs, their aura still pulsing. "Go prepare a medical pond with these."
Calen nodded, eyes burning, and rushed to obey.