Chapter 438: Dancing on the Blade’s Edge

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An unusual hush fell over the arena, partly because the slight probing between the two had already left many spectators' eyes unable to keep up, leaving them utterly stunned. On the other hand, although Mapeier had gained considerable fame recently, she was still a newcomer. Meanwhile, Ye Dun was the face of the Holy Sanctuary and had held the top rank in the Holy Sanctuary for two years. After their initial exchange, they stood toe-to-toe, which was hard for many Holy Sanctuary supporters to accept. They'd expected Ye Dun to completely dominate.

In contrast, the Rose stands exploded with cheers. The previous match had seen a Ghost-Level transformation, and though it ultimately fell short, everyone knew Fan Texi was out of danger, easing their worries. Now, Mapeier was going blow-for-blow against the top-ranked Ye Dun, which was certainly cause for celebration.

"Mapeier, you're amazing! Keep it up!"

"Mapeier, you're incredible! You're so cool! We love you!"

"Senior Mapeier, I never knew you were this strong in battle! You're the best—I admire you so much!"

"Sister Mapeier, it's me, Xiao Zhezhi! We started a fan club for you, and I'm the first president!"

Cheers and screams filled the air.

Mapeier, who never let herself get distracted during fights, was momentarily stunned. This was something she had never experienced before. From childhood, whether wandering, training, or as an initiate, she had always lived in the shadows. When had she ever enjoyed such open warmth and admiration?

She couldn’t help but glance sideways, where Andy was waving a large portrait of her—her official academy portrait—excitedly. Beside him were many familiar faces from the Judgment faction, their expressions brimming with genuine excitement and adoration for her, some even rivaling their admiration for Senior Wang Feng.

Mi Maya, a junior from the Alchemy department, came from a good family but was not the quickest learner. She often got simple potion knowledge wrong and constantly sought Mapeier’s guidance. Back then, Mapeier had patiently tutored her, seeing potential benefits in her connections.

Xiao Zhezhi, a second-year junior in the Alchemy department, was talented but poor. He had once stolen from the workshop, only to be caught by Mapeier. Such an offense usually meant expulsion, with rewards for reporting it, but Mapeier, preferring to stay low-key, let him go. Since then, he had become her devoted follower, always hovering around her, which she had found annoying.

Honestly, Mapeier had never considered these people as friends. She had helped them with her own reasons and never found them particularly interesting—just bothersome and risky.

But now, hearing their voices, she realized she didn’t feel annoyed at all. A faint smile tugged at her lips. Since following Senior Wang Feng, she had truly changed. Why hadn’t she noticed before that these people could be so endearing?

In the VIP seats, Clara was dressed formally, but her posture—right hand resting on her left arm, left elbow slightly propped on the chair, body leaning slightly to the side—exuded an effortless sensuality. Many sharp-eyed spectators couldn’t resist stealing glances at her throughout the match. The allure of the Mermaid Princess might have outshone the battle itself in the eyes of most.

Clara was leisurely observing Mapeier, intrigued because of Wang Feng.

After all, recent tabloids had painted Mapeier as Wang Feng’s rumored lover. And Clara? Just from the way Wang Feng spoke to Mapeier and how submissive Mapeier was around him, she’d bet anything the girl was his mistress.

Clara had scrutinized Mapeier from head to toe, her gaze finally lingering on her chest. She couldn’t help but smirk: So that’s his type? Big? Well, good thing I'm not exactly small myself.

"This human woman has quite the figure," Ulysses remarked, sitting beside Clara as if their past encounter on the pirate ship had never happened. He grinned. "Keeping her as a pet—that Wang Feng from Rose knows how to enjoy himself. I hear he’s entangled with several women. His way with the ladies isn’t so different from mine."

The nature of Clara and Wang Feng’s relationship was a secret among the Sea People’s upper echelons, but Ulysses, as the Sea Dragon Prince and the Eldest Princess’s fiancé, was privy to it.

Clara gave him a cool glance. Once, she had respected and feared him, given their status difference. But after what had happened, his nonchalant reappearance was baffling.

She smiled faintly. "Prince Ulysses, you and he are nothing alike. He's in another league entirely."

The unattainable was always the most desirable. Having failed twice with Clara, Ulysses’ desire for her only grew. Hearing her response and admiring her flawless profile, he chuckled. "Oh? I’m surprised Princess Clara is so knowledgeable about such matters."

"Wang Feng is a gentleman. I'd welcome his attentions—too bad he’s not interested," Clara said, unbothered about provoking the Sea Dragon Prince on human turf. "As for you? I have not the slightest interest."

A lifelong womanizer, Ulysses had never been so openly mocked by a woman. His smile stiffened, teeth gritting in frustration, but there was little he could do here. This woman had more connections than he did.

Arrogant little thing. Think you’re untouchable just because you’re riding high now? We’ll see about that.

Back in the arena, the atmosphere shifted abruptly. White soul energy flared around Ye Dun, met by Mapeier’s crimson aura. Their power seemed evenly matched, but the killing intent between them was palpable even from ten yards away.

Mapeier quickly refocused from her earlier distraction. Ye Dun’s lips curled slightly, and then—

*Buzz!*

Two trademark golden discs shot forth, dazzlingly bright. But no one was watching the discs—all eyes were locked on Mapeier. Now that they knew her tactics, they wouldn’t be fooled by the discs again. Surely, she couldn’t just "disappear" this time.

This time, there was indeed no 'disappearance.' The blood-tinged aura enveloped her, standing out vividly in the arena, transforming into a streak of blood-red radiance. It traced a chillingly unnatural arc—flickering silently like a Blood Spider swiftly crawling across a dark silk web, while the two golden discs in the air resembled its venomous fangs, ready to pierce through any defense the enemy might have!

Was she getting serious now? Still too inexperienced. Her victory over Zhao Ziyue was largely due to his complete lack of knowledge about her.

A faint smirk curled at the corner of Ye Dun's lips. The next second, white light shot forth, streaking skyward!

Unlike Mapeier's elusive style, Ye Dun was equally fast—but his speed carried an air of imperial authority. He didn’t rely on tricks or deception; his was the purest form of speed, the shortest path between two points: a straight line.

Shing!

Bang! Bang!

Two metallic clashes rang out as the crimson streak and the white light crossed paths in an instant. Yet, a mere three meters apart, their toes touched the ground almost simultaneously before they pivoted and charged back at each other.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

As if suddenly accelerating, the battle instantly escalated into a whirlwind of strikes. Their movements were so fast that the audience could barely keep up, unable to discern the specifics of their strikes.

All that could be seen were ribbons of red, bolts of white.

The red was Mapeier’s dagger. In the past, she had preferred transparent spider silk—everything about her demanded discretion, concealment, and anonymity, a shadowblade’s core tenet. But now, she found herself increasingly drawn to red. Even her dagger had been replaced with a crimson one from the Darkmoon Isle’s vaults, as if shedding her former self.

The white was Ye Dun’s *Cicada Wing Blades*—thin and light as a cicada’s wing, unsuitable for heavy strikes but keen-edged. Their curved shape, combined with the egg-like arcs Ye Dun’s slashes traced in the air, had earned them the affectionate nickname *(dubbed "Egg Blades" by fans)*.

Red and white crescents flashed repeatedly in the air, interwoven with the spinning golden discs. The two seemed evenly matched once more—until the fifth exchange, when the white light turned back first.

At this level, outright domination was impossible. Victory often hinged on the smallest details, seemingly insignificant hair’s-breadth margins.

Ye Dun was clearly a step faster, his offensive rhythm more refined. His attacks were simpler than Mapeier’s, and after five exchanges, he had already seized the advantage by a single body length.

A glint flashed in Ye Dun’s eyes as he lunged forward again—this time, loosing both blades from his hands.

Hiss!

Weapons moved far faster than any human. The white streaks shot through the air, aiming straight for Mapeier’s shoulders—now a beat behind. The angle was precise, the timing impeccable. No matter which way she turned, the blades would strike true.

Yet, as if she had eyes on her back, Mapeier didn’t turn. Instead, she dropped her entire body low, letting the blades pass overhead. At the same time, she jerked her wrists, recalling the golden discs mid-flight—attacking to defend, sending them straight toward the now-unarmed Ye Dun.

But in the next instant, the missed *Cicada Wing Blades* abruptly veered their trajectory, arcing forward before rising high and slashing horizontally at the discs with even greater speed.

Clang! Clang!

The discs were deflected, their assault instantly neutralized.

Yet, even as the golden discs were countered, two crimson arcs had already appeared before Ye Dun’s eyes.

Whick! Whick!

The sound of slicing wind—Ye Dun’s neck and chest were both cleaved by the red blades, as if bisecting him...

Gasps erupted from many of the Heaven’s Summit Holy Sanctuary supporters. But there was no triumph in Mapeier’s eyes—only a flicker of doubt.

That was an afterimage. Where was the real body? Behind her!

Instinctively, three crimson spider threads yanked backward.

Skree! Skree! Skree!—the sound of sharp edges scraping against steel wires. Ye Dun’s *Cicada Wing Blades* weren’t limited to just two.

Mapeier flipped midair, her blood-red dagger slashing backward in a sweeping arc—once again, attacking to defend. Ye Dun jerked his head back barely in time to evade, pressing forward relentlessly. Meanwhile, the *Cicada Wing Blades*—having intercepted the golden discs—now circled back to strike Mapeier from behind. In an instant, she was trapped in a crossfire.

Mapeier had been extremely cautious, yet her opponent's attacks were not only tricky in angle but also slightly faster than her. There was no way to use offense as defense now. With the pull of the golden wheels, Mapeier dashed sideways mid-air despite having no leverage. But this single dodge cost her any chance to mount even one threatening attack.

This was far more difficult than fighting Zhao Ziyue. Even disregarding strength, Ye Dun clearly understood Mapeier much better than Zhao Ziyue ever could.

From macro-level control of the battle to micro-level execution of details, Ye Dun's performance was impeccable. He didn’t rely on any extraordinary combat skills or signature techniques—just simple, fundamental attacks and defenses—yet he completely suppressed Mapeier.

Faster, stronger, and even foreseeing her moves—he might only be slightly better than her in each aspect, but these small advantages accumulated like rolling snowballs, quickly turning into overwhelming dominance.

*Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!*

Another series of metallic clashes rang out. Mapeier was visibly struggling to defend now. When the last white blade slashed toward her, she was like an arrow at the end of its flight, sent sprawling by the overwhelming force.

An enemy losing balance was the perfect opportunity to press the attack, yet Ye Dun took only a single step forward before stopping.

The surroundings fell silent. Mapeier was clearly hanging by a thread, so why had Ye Dun suddenly halted his assault?

"Look at the ground!" someone shouted.

Under the blazing sun, the vast arena floor—spanning thousands of square meters—was now covered in a glistening, intricate web of threads, nearly filling the entire space!

The audience collectively gasped. Mapeier had been completely suppressed by Ye Dun the entire time, barely managing her dagger and golden wheels. Yet, somehow, she had still found the chance to lay this web trap!

The spider silk looked incredibly tough and wickedly sharp, shimmering like fish scales under the sunlight. Anyone daring to step into this web would likely lose their head in an instant.

Terrifying. Fighting an assassin like this was absolutely terrifying. She accomplished in one second what others needed two for—faster, stronger, and doing more at every turn. Every second was a killing opportunity, every step a trap!

Ye Dun’s assault came to an abrupt halt. He gave up the perfect chance to press his advantage, standing still as if even he was at a loss against the surrounding web. His mobility was completely restricted. An assassin without speed and space was worthless.

The balance of power flipped in an instant. Their offensive and defensive stances seemed to reverse every second, the battle’s momentum shifting so rapidly that slower minds couldn’t keep up. And in this kind of fight, life and death hung by a thread—unlike the first match, where a single mistake could cost everything.

This was a duel between top-tier martial artists—a dance on knife's edge!

"Brilliant, absolutely brilliant!" Hawkland laughed heartily. This was the most glorious moment of his life. Seated beside him were the principals of various Holy Sanctuaries, including Zhao Feiyuan of Xifeng Holy Sanctuary and, of course, Fu Changkong, who had mocked him during the opening speech.

"Old Zhao, your kid losing to our Rose’s Mapeier isn’t unjust," Hawkland said with a grin. "The new generation surpasses the old. Though she debuted late, look—even the top disciple of the Holy Sanctuary is helpless against her, now at a disadvantage. Seems some folks spoke too soon and might just crash and burn!"

A single sentence targeting two people—and not just any two, but the two most prestigious principals in the entire Holy Sanctuary system. Only Hawkland would dare do such a thing.

No need for pretense—Old Hawk was just a figurehead principal here. He’d come purely to flaunt his prestige and enjoy himself!

Life’s joys should be seized when possible. Back when Rose first decided on the Eightfold Battle, who could’ve imagined they’d secure seven straight crushing victories? Had Hawkland known Wang Feng and the others were this strong, he’d have personally led them from the very first match. Just imagining himself sitting in the stands, nonchalantly ridiculing those principals who’d insulted him in Holy Sanctuary's Light—for fuck's sake, what an ultimate power move that would’ve been!

But better late than never. Though he’d missed the earlier matches, he was here now! Why be a principal if not to flaunt and bask in glory? Old Hawk lived for reputation!

Fantasy’s performance earlier had already given him quite the boost—a ghost-level Holy Sanctuary disciple? How many existed in Holy Sanctuary history? The only downside was failing to secure an opening victory, leaving it unclear whether that ghost-level breakthrough was real or just a fleeting burst. That made it hard for Old Hawk to brag. But this match… Against the pride of Zenith Holy Sanctuary, the so-called number one, Ye Dun, Mapeier now seemed firmly in control!

"Your Rose’s Mapeier?" Zhao Feiyuan snorted inwardly. Mapeier had severely injured Zhao Ziyue, earning his deep resentment. And now, even an academic like Hawkland dared to show off in front of him? Unacceptable. Calmly, he said, "Wasn’t she from Judgment? What does she have to do with Rose?"

Hawkland had expected this retort. He laughed, unfazed. "Old Zhao, that’s just envy talking. As the saying goes, water flows to higher ground. If Rose can attract outstanding disciples, doesn’t that prove our superiority?"

Before Zhao Feiyuan could counter, Fu Changkong smiled faintly. "Old Hawk, everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. You’re a genius in runes but clueless in combat—your judgment here is lacking. The balance on the field isn’t something you can grasp. You’d do better to consider my earlier proposal. Rose is doomed today. The associate dean position at Zenith Holy Sanctuary’s Rune Institute is still reserved for you—no second candidates."

*I’m a ghost-level myself—how could I not understand the strength of two Tiger Peak kids?*

Hawkland’s eyebrow twitched, but arguing with Fu Changkong made him nervous. It wasn’t fear of authority—debating combat with a former bounty hunter now at Ghost Peak level like Fu Changkong was just asking for humiliation. No matter what he said, he’d lose. He could only wait for reality to slap them in the face.

A beat behind in repartee, Hawkland hadn’t yet figured out a rebuttal when Zhao Feiyuan chuckled. "After all, Mapeier’s from Judgment. Old Hawk hasn’t interacted much with her—overestimating her is understandable."

Hawkland choked. In a war of words, he was no match for these two. Before he could even counter the last remark, they’d already tag-teamed with the next verbal strike. *For fuck's sake, I’m the principal of a centuries-old prestigious institution—at the very least, a dean and an authority in runic studies! Going to Zenith Holy Sanctuary as an associate dean? Screw that!*

As for Mapeier—though her transfer was actually the result of a private deal between Wang Feng and Anbolin—Hawkland didn’t know that! In his eyes, Mapeier had come to Rose through Wang Feng’s suggestion, with him, Hawkland, stomaching his dignity to plead with Ji Fantian of Judgment for her, even promising many benefits. In this context, Mapeier was practically a disciple under his wing. Her excellence directly reflected on his reputation.

*Maybe I should officially take her as my last disciple? Or even adopt her as an adopted daughter?*

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