Chapter Twenty-One: Beaten Until Loss of Control

The grand hall had already been transformed into a training arena, its vastness stretching beyond sight. No matter how intense the spiritual pressure unleashed within, not a whisper of it would escape outside.

Bai Yujing folded his hands within his sleeves, his expression tranquil. “Then let me witness your full strength.”

“As you wish.”

A fleeting mandala pattern, crimson as blood, flashed in Zhuying’s eyes. “Let me show you the might of the Titan Spirit!”

A translucent golden apparition surged from her body—unlike the partial form seen at the underground auction, this time a complete Titan Spirit materialized, towering as high as ten stories, broad-shouldered and thick-waisted, with a gleaming golden axe strapped across its back.

Clad in golden armor adorned with intricate, mysterious patterns, it radiated an enigmatic beauty. Zhuying’s figure shimmered faintly within the chest of the Titan Spirit.

With a thought, she commanded the Titan Spirit to raise its right hand, gripping the axe handle. It stepped forward, and the ground beneath cracked instantly, sending shards of stone flying.

Gripping the axe with both hands, it struck downward with full force.

A thunderous roar erupted.

The air itself was torn asunder by the blow; where the axe struck, even space seemed to split. The strike was tyrannical, exuding a world-shattering power.

At last, Bai Yujing withdrew his right hand from his sleeve, grasped the sword hilt, and drew his blade to block.

Boom!

A deafening explosion shattered the hall. The massive axe was firmly held at bay by Bai Yujing, his feet unmoving.

With a flick of his wrist, he swept the sword upward.

A tidal force surged from the axe blade, forcing the Titan Spirit back two steps.

“How is that possible?”

Zhuying’s pupils contracted, staring in disbelief.

Ever since she was captured by the people of Treasure Pavilion, awakening her Rakshasa Eyes in utter despair, the late Uncle Cao had once said—even before the Rakshasa Eyes evolved to the Divine Eye, none in this world could withstand its power.

Yet now, her Titan Spirit had been forced back.

Bai Yujing gave her no time to ponder. He swung his sword forward.

Infused with formidable spiritual pressure, the strike formed an indomitable sword force.

Boom!

The Titan Spirit’s solid body split like tofu under the sword, cleaved apart with ease.

Bai Yujing deliberately spared Zhuying’s life—his blow dismantled the Titan Spirit without bisecting her.

Zhuying fell rigidly onto the hall floor, her cold, beautiful face filled with shock.

She knew well how impregnable the Titan Spirit’s defenses were—how could it be destroyed in a single blow?

“Damn it!”

Her pupils widened, the bloody mandala pattern spinning wildly. The second technique of Rakshasa Eyes activated instantly.

A pure white flame erupted from Bai Yujing’s surface, its searing heat distorting the air around him.

A hint of delight flashed in Zhuying’s gaze. She spoke coldly, “Southern Bright Fire can burn all things beneath heaven. If you’re touched by it, you’re doomed.”

Bai Yujing’s voice came calmly from within the flames, without the slightest fluctuation. “Do I look even a little like a dying man to you?”

Before his words finished, the pure white fire surged as if drenched in gasoline, swelling to two or three fathoms high.

Within the flames, Bai Yujing’s figure grew clearer.

He held his sword in his right hand, advancing toward Zhuying at a measured pace.

The flickering fire swirled around him, resembling a robe woven of thick mist—light yet suffused with oppressive force.

Boom!

An unrivaled, terrifying spiritual pressure exploded forth.

Zhuying’s vision darkened, as if an invisible mountain pressed upon her soul.

Her pupils contracted sharply; the brilliance of the mandala pattern dimmed instantly.

With a single glance, all her fighting spirit and murderous intent were crushed, like an ant beneath the sky, unable even to muster the will to resist.

Sweat poured from her brow like rain, soaking her garments.

Her gaze became unfocused, lips parted in a broken expression.

She collapsed to the ground, legs trembling helplessly.

“No… I can’t win… I simply can’t win…”

This thought echoed in Zhuying’s mind—“What kind of monster is this?”

Bai Yujing stopped, his spiritual robe now almost tangible flame. Even the Southern Bright Fire was fragile before the fire of his spiritual pressure.

This was the ultimate form of the spiritual robe, though not his full strength.

Bai Yujing never released his spiritual pressure completely—before he did, his opponents were already crushed.

He sheathed his sword, and the spiritual robe vanished instantly, along with the oppressive aura.

Zhuying continued to stare blankly, a pool of fluid slowly spreading beneath her—whether sweat or otherwise.

Her gaze was empty, as though her soul had been drawn away.

Bai Yujing scratched his head and muttered, “Perhaps I went too far.”

He restored the hall to its original state and left.

After departing, he used Air Resonance to travel to a clothing store.

He selected a simple outfit—a white T-shirt and wide-legged trousers.

Upon returning to Azure Cloud Sect, he tossed the clothes onto the floor. “Go take a bath first. The bathroom is the first room on the right side of the hall.”

With that, he turned and left, giving Zhuying privacy.

Zhuying sat motionless for a long time, stunned.

Only after Bai Yujing left did she slowly lift her head and gaze at the clothes on the floor, a trace of confusion in her eyes.

“Why didn’t he kill me?”

She murmured, bewildered.

Yet the sticky sensation beneath her prompted her to rise quickly, take the clothes, and head to the bathroom.

Warm water washed over her, cleansing the uncomfortable residue.

After donning the white T-shirt, she found it ill-fitting—the fullness of her chest stretched the shirt tight, distorting the teddy bear print from childish to Lovecraftian.

The trousers were at least passable.

Dripping with wet, crimson hair, Zhuying walked out of the hall.

Under the moonlight, Bai Yujing stood in the courtyard, his back to her.

“Why didn’t you kill me?”

Bai Yujing turned to face her. “With your talent, it would be a tragedy if prejudice and desire led you astray.”

“The path I walk is the one most suited for humanity,” Zhuying interrupted coldly. “The nations, humans, and even the demon clans of this world need a common, formidable enemy. Only in the face of a crisis capable of destroying the world will they choose unity and achieve peace.”

“You wish to bear all the world’s hatred?”

Bai Yujing’s face remained calm. “But you lack the strength for that.”

The blunt truth struck Zhuying like a knife to the heart.

She pressed her lips together, offering no retort.

Bai Yujing continued, “Until you possess such strength, you’ll be a disciple of Azure Cloud Sect. You can challenge me any time—ambush or assassination, as you wish. But before you kill me, you must never harm innocent people. Otherwise, I’ll make you relive that terror.”

“Fine,” Zhuying replied frostily.

She knew clearly—if she failed to kill the man before her, she could never become the enemy of the world, bearing all its hatred.