Chapter 99: Chapter 99
The fury within Sam ignited like a wildfire as he witnessed his biological brother, Allen, beaten nearly to a pulp by Ethan.
The resentment he had accumulated before erupted in that moment, consuming every part of his being.
All eyes turned as Sam stepped fiercely onto the railing, then vaulted down, landing with the surety of a panther prowling to the aid of its kin.
Without hesitation, he reached behind Allen’s neck, fingers trembling but filled with urgency, searching for the breath of life.
Relieved when he found the faint pulse of his brother’s breathing, the expression on Sam’s face softened momentarily.
But the relief was short-lived.
His gaze swept over the battered form. Broken bones protruded beneath torn robes, his brother’s face twisted and deformed from brutal assault.
Internal organs bore injuries deep and varied. Without rest and treatment—bedridden for at least a month—Allen’s body might never fully recover.
The magnitude of the damage settled like a crushing boulder on Sam’s heart.
Turning sharply, his gaze locked coldly onto Ethan, simmering with a menace that promised retribution.
"Ethan!"
"In a competition with fellow disciples of the same sect, you attacked so harshly and completely ignored the sect’s rules. Today, I, Sam, will teach you a lesson on behalf of the Laws of the sects and the Law Enforcement Hall!" Sam declared, stepping forward with authority.
Ethan’s lips curled into a sneer. "Fists and kicks have no eyes. Injuries are inevitable. Your brother fell not due to cruelty but because his skills were inferior!"
Ethan’s gaze hardened. "And as a mere direct disciple of Voidshade Peak, you lack the authority to teach me a lesson on behalf of the sect or the Law Enforcement Hall!"
Ethan’s voice rose, calm yet piercing, slicing the tension like a blade. "I stand by my actions."
"Ethan, you’ve crossed the line!" came the sharp reprimand.
A cold, commanding voice cut through—the Saintess herself, Seraphina. She rose, icy and resolute, eyes blazing frost. "Enough!"
Whispers erupted instantly. "The Saint cannot tolerate this!"
"There will be trouble for Ethan now."
But a group of disciplined disciples stood in defiant support.
"In a sect competition, fighting to such an extent is uncommon. Ethan is an underdog of the Dao Sect. This is bullying him because he has no backer. He deserves protection."
Seraphina’s gaze burned hotter. "The competition is between the disciples of the same sect, yet you strike with such brutal disregard! No wonder you remain unruly even after a decade of isolation in the Serene Mirror Lake."
Ethan laughed loudly, the sound sharp and provocative.
"Your Highness the Saint, this is no holy ground. The heads of the Four Peaks have yet to declare a decision. Why do you insert yourself into the fray so eagerly?"
His tone bore a venom that left Seraphina unsettled—a challenge wrapped in mocking respect.
"Presumptuous!" Seraphina hissed, cheeks flushed. "Disobey my counsel, and I shall remind you of your place!"
Before she could further declare her will, Sam stepped forward again, voice firm. "Your Highness, please allow me to intervene."
At that moment, Dorian, overseeing the competition, fell silent, receiving a heavy gaze from the highest platform—the subtle signal to avoid interfering.
Ethan was no disciple of the Serpentwind Peak, and so the masters and elders were content to watch rather than intervene.
The duel between Voidshade’s eldest disciple and Azure Sky’s rising star was a spectacle, a vine twisting in intrigue and power, captivating all present.
The demonstration of raw strength and fierce rivalry thrilled the spectators, swallowing any objections about breach of rules. After all, rules were made by men—and none had spoken against the fight.
They chose to treat it as a clash between juniors—settle disputes with fists first.
Yet Elden, watching quietly, could not hold himself still.
Frowning, he began to stand—until Adyr’s voice stopped him.
"Peak Master Elden," Adyr said coolly, "I hope you understand that your Azure Sky disciple’s methods are severe. I request an explanation."
Elden’s face hardened, but his voice remained calm.
"No one went beyond mortal danger. Injuries and unconsciousness are common. Have you no desire for your own disciples to face such trials?"
He leaned on the armrest. "Besides, if your disciple is truly incompetent compared to others, what words can I offer?"
Just when Elden opened his mouth to respond further, sudden cries arose below—Ethan had made a move that stunned everyone.
"That kid!" Elden’s complexion shifted instantly.
He had prepared to step in, but Ethan was the first to charge—the spirit of combat raging within, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.
"Madness! This Ethan is truly mad!"
"The heat! It’s crazy, pure fire!"
"Facing Sam, a powerful cultivator in Void Amalgamation Realm, Ethan matches him blow for blow!"
"The spectacle of the day—nothing can beat this visual feast!"
Whispers and cheers washed over the crowd, mingled with shock and admiration.
Unbeknownst to the audience, Ethan’s ferocity stirred not only the spectators but a realm of youthful dreams and ambitions.
The raw passion of combat awakened memories in those watching—memories of their own struggles, aspirations, and hunger for greatness.
Up against the pressure of both Saintess Seraphina and the leading Voidshade disciple Sam, Ethan’s courage to lead the assault inspired awe.
"He’s my idol now, no matter the outcome," someone murmured, echoing the shared sentiment.
"First Allen faltered, now the true battle begins. Can Sam meet the storm Ethan has brought?"
Eyes gleamed bright with the promise of a legendary encounter, while Elden reluctantly resumed his seat, recognizing Ethan’s resolve was ironclad.
Some mused, "A man who knows when to move will leave a lasting deep impact."
One spectator, Edwin, whispered fondly, "He’s is different, like myself when young. This is the spirit of a true cultivator!"
Althea’s narrowed gaze softened fractionally as she considered the unfolding scene.
Seraphina’s lips tightened, her disdain faint but present. "So bold, so reckless... How can he hope to defeat Sam?"
As Ethan surged forward with the speed of a striking eagle, his eyes gleamed with cold precision.
"Sam," Ethan called out, voice cold and strong. "It’s time to settle our long-standing account."
"Settle an account?" Sam’s surprise cracked through his arrogance for a mere instant. "What nonsense!"
Ethan’s chuckle held dark amusement. "Soon you’ll see."
Almost as if to punctuate his words, Ethan vanished beside Sam in a flash.
He summoned the essence and blood within after condensing his blood pill, channeling them into his fist.
The fist blazed with a thick, blood-red aura, fused with the mysterious power of heavenly and earthly energies—thick, long, and destructive.
"Boom!"
A deafening sound echoed as Ethan’s punch surged forth with unstoppable might.
Sam’s expression flickered from disdain to alarm as he sensed the infinite force rushing at him.
His body recoiled instinctively, spiritual energy gathering in his legs with utmost effort. Just barely, Sam dodged the crushing blow.
He twisted away, panting, sweat spilling from his brow. "Impossible... Why did his punch give me the illusion that it would kill me...?"
A/N:
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