Chapter 127: Looks like...
"Is this... cultivation?"
Ethan’s voice rang out across the snowfield, carrying a note of confusion as he looked at the hundred Ice Swords hovering behind QingLian’s projection. The swords were entirely condensed from ice, yet they lacked the roughness of ordinary ice-type skills.
From the length and curvature of the blades to the faint patterns on the hilts, they were all nearly identical. They were arranged in multiple layers across the sky, tips uniformly aimed at the three of them, while QingLian’s white figure stood motionless amid the snow wind, one hand holding a seal before her chest.
She chanted no incantation and made no extravagant gestures. Just a single seal, and a hundred swords had appeared.
Ethan watched the scene for a few more seconds, then narrowed his eyes slightly. Laira beside him had already raised her hand, crimson-violet Thunder Flame slowly spilling along her long fingers, while Ruo Yan had also drawn Soul Threads from her fingertips, letting the Necromancer advance half a step from behind. But before the Ice Swords actually fell, the image on the observation screens outside had already sent the entire hall into a stir.
"Her again." An elderly man seated in the Zone 2 representative section set his glass down, his gaze resting on the white figure in the center of the screen.
A young man sitting nearby didn’t catch what he said and turned to ask: "What did you say, sir?"
"I said the third round is still using QingLian’s projection." The old man looked at the screen, then unconsciously glanced up at the highest chairman’s seat. "You can see the real person sitting right there, can’t you?"
QingLian really was sitting in that seat. White and red garments draped over the chair, a jade-green sash cinching her waist, her long black hair partially held in place by delicate metal hairpins. At nearly two meters tall, she stood out conspicuously from everyone around her even while seated.
However, from the moment Ethan entered round three until now, QingLian had barely shifted her posture; she simply drank tea, so calm that the projection currently preparing to kill someone with a hundred Ice Swords inside the ruins seemed to have absolutely nothing to do with her.
The young man lowered his voice. "How strong is that projection?"
The old man looked at him as though he’d just heard a rather naive question, but ultimately explained: "You know the mechanism of the third round, right? The ruins take the data of someone who achieved an extraordinarily high result here, then recreate that person’s strength as it was at the time of their participation."
"I know that."
"Then do you know why the projection has been QingLian for so many years?" The old man turned back to the screen. "Because no one has been able to surpass her record."
The words weren’t loud, but they were enough to make several nearby people look over. An older representative from Zone 1 chuckled, his gaze sweeping past QingLian in the chairman’s seat before he spoke slowly: "Don’t sugarcoat it like that. That year, she didn’t merely set a high record. She passed the entire Trial Gate flawlessly."
The air around them quieted a notch.
"Flawlessly?"
"Wasn’t eliminated by any secondary condition, didn’t use any bypass privileges, and didn’t rely on running out the clock to survive." The Zone 1 representative crossed his arms, the corner of his mouth curving slightly. "Rounds that required defeating the opponent, she defeated. Rounds that required survival, she was the last one standing. The projection you’re seeing is only the QingLian of that year, not the one she is now."
Several younger people breathed a small sigh of relief at that. If it was only the QingLian of many years ago, there was at least still a chance. But the man saw their expressions and laughed, his tone carrying a hint of derision.
"You all seem relieved?"
One of them frowned. "Is there more?"
"Of course." He pointed at the screen. "The QingLian of that year was already strong enough to tear through this place."
Nobody continued asking. On the screen, the white projection still stood in the middle of the snowfield. The nearly two-meter frame and archaic attire were enough to make her striking, but what truly silenced those who knew the story was the calm in every movement. A hundred Ice Swords hung in the sky, yet she hadn’t even truly begun.
Another person said in a low voice: "I remember a few years back, a genius with two S-rank skills made it to this round. He tried to fight the projection head-on."
"And then?"
"One minute."
"One minute what?"
"One minute later, they were completely annihilated. No ability to fight back."
The person who’d asked immediately fell silent. Someone laughed, looking at Ethan on screen before saying: "So how long can Ethan hold out? His Red Dragon Partner is very powerful, but this is QingLian. A strong Partner doesn’t mean you can solve everything. Last round Cassian’s Acceleration was countered, but at least he still found a way to pass; QingLian is different. She doesn’t have a fixed combat style for others to easily target."
The discussions gradually spread throughout the hall. Only Xue Ji remained seated quietly, and the dark-haired secretary beside her watched the screen for a while before asking softly: "Are you still confident?"
Xue Ji raised her glass to her lips but didn’t drink right away. "About what?"
"Ethan."
"I still believe in him."
"I’m asking whether he can win."
This time Xue Ji was silent for longer. On screen, Laira had already stepped forward ahead of Ethan, while Ruo Yan had shifted to the opposite side. Their stances alone made it clear both were preparing for combat. After a moment, Xue Ji finally shook her head.
"I don’t know."
The secretary seemed slightly surprised. "So there are times when even you admit you don’t know?"
"I invested in him. I don’t predict the future." Xue Ji shot her a glance, then leaned back in her chair. "But if you’re asking whether I think he’ll obediently fight the way everyone expects, then the answer is no."
"Meaning?"
"Just watch."
The secretary frowned but didn’t press further. At the chairman’s seat, QingLian didn’t seem to have heard any of the flattery directed at her. Her fingertips rested against the rim of her teacup, calm eyes watching Ethan on screen. Only when someone mentioned that year’s flawless achievement did her lashes lower slightly, but her expression didn’t change at all.
She had heard those words far too many times.
What held her attention lay elsewhere.
Ethan still hadn’t moved.
On the snowfield, Laira looked at the hundred Ice Swords and tilted her head, the Thunder Flame around her hand growing brighter by the moment. "I’ll go first."
Ruo Yan had also drawn Soul Threads from her fingertips. The Necromancer behind her lowered its center of gravity, necrotic energy slowly seeping across the snow’s surface. "I’ll lock down her movement paths, Laira closes in, and Ethan finds an opening."
"Got it."
The two had just finished coordinating when Ethan spoke up: "Hold on."
Laira turned back. Because she was so much taller than him, she had to tilt her head down to look him in the eye. "What?"
"No need to make it that complicated."
Ruo Yan also turned, a trace of suspicion in her gaze. "Did you just see something?"
"Haven’t seen enough yet."
"Then?"
Ethan watched QingLian’s projection a while longer, then raised his left arm. The Primordial Armor emitted a very faint hum, the electrical lines across the metal surface lighting up one by one, running from arm to shoulder before spreading toward his back. The familiar surge of energy immediately made Laira widen her eyes, while Ruo Yan stood still for a few seconds before she understood what he was planning.
"You’re using that right now?"
"Yeah."
"Right from the start?"
Ethan looked at her. "If one strike can settle it, why spend half a day fighting?"
Ruo Yan fell silent, but Laira immediately grinned. "I like this approach."
Ethan exhaled, his left hand slowly closing into a fist. A heavy clap of thunder rolled across the snowfield, and behind him, currents of electricity began weaving together. Layer upon layer of blue-violet structure materialized in the air, then rapidly expanded.
Unlike the first time the Cataclysmic Thunder Gate had appeared in the Owin ruins, this time the energy within it had been nearly fully replenished by the electromagnetic dome from the previous round, so the gate didn’t need time to draw from the environment.
In just a few seconds, the Cataclysmic Thunder Gate had taken shape.
A colossal gate stood behind the three of them. Lightning runes ran along its surface, and the space around it continuously shrieked as energy was compressed to near-solid density. The snow beneath Ethan’s feet began to melt, but the water didn’t even have time to flow before it evaporated into steam.
Laira looked at the gate, her red-orange eyes lighting up. "It’s full."
"Almost."
"Ready to fire."
"I know."
Ruo Yan watched the two of them exchanging words as casually as if discussing an ordinary weapon, the corner of her eye twitching slightly. "You two really used the survival round to charge this thing?"
Ethan glanced at her. "It was convenient, so why not."
Ruo Yan decided not to ask anything further.
The atmosphere in the observation hall outside shifted almost instantly. Those who had never seen the Cataclysmic Thunder Gate could only sense the pressure through the screen, but the higher-ranking individuals had already straightened up in their seats one by one.
"What is that?"
"A weapon?"
"Doesn’t look like one."
"This aura..." A Zone 4 representative furrowed his brows tightly. "Mythical at minimum."
The moment those words left his mouth, every discussion grew quieter. Mythical was a rank that most people here would only ever encounter in records throughout their entire lives. Xue Ji looked at the gate appearing behind Ethan and finally understood what he was planning, so she raised her hand to lightly cover the corner of her mouth.
"As expected."
The secretary beside her looked over. "You knew he had this?"
"I knew he had a lot of strange things."
"I’m asking about the gate."
"No."
The secretary stared at her in silence, and Xue Ji acted as though she hadn’t noticed the look.
At the chairman’s seat, QingLian set her teacup down on the table for the first time. The sound was very soft, but several people sitting nearby still unconsciously looked up. QingLian paid them no attention; her eyes rested on the Cataclysmic Thunder Gate, then shifted to Ethan. A very faint trace of curiosity appeared and vanished.
QingLian’s projection still hadn’t moved, but the hundred Ice Swords in the sky had begun to tremble.
Ethan watched them, then looked at the white figure standing in the distance. "I don’t know how strong she is."
Laira turned to him.
Ethan’s lips curved slightly. "But first, let’s see if she can take a hit."
He raised his hand. The Cataclysmic Thunder Gate behind him immediately shuddered, every rune on the gate blazing to life simultaneously. The hundred Ice Swords seemed to sense the danger and instantly plummeted downward, turning the entire sky white with sharp streaks of ice.
Ruo Yan reflexively raised her hand, but Ethan didn’t dodge.
"Fire."
In that instant, the Cataclysmic Thunder Gate opened.
The blue-white light inside the gate abruptly converged to a single point, then erupted into a column of lightning that tore straight across the snowfield. The hundred Ice Swords disintegrated the moment they touched the energy, without even producing a sound of impact. Snow, ice, freezing wind, even the air along the path was swallowed clean, compressed into a long vacuum corridor.
QingLian’s projection vanished within it.
The ground shook, and the lightning column continued stretching all the way to the horizon. Outside, the entire hall went dead silent. No more laughter, no more speculation about how long Ethan could last. Only the light from the screens illuminating each motionless face.
On the snowfield, Ethan lowered his hand. The Cataclysmic Thunder Gate behind him was still crackling with small arcs of electricity, while ahead lay a long black scar where every trace of snow had been scoured away.
The corner of his mouth curved slightly.
"Looks like..."