Chapter 29
Dark Battle Angel: Melee!!
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~Pit of the dammed.
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Yin Feiyu adjusted her palatial pink cherry blossom dress, regaining a dignified posture.
"I investigated the black aura. While there isn't much detailed information, I could discern that it's not a forbidden concoction or anything incriminating. Rather, it seems to be some sort of dormant energy that has merged with their bodies — it can be triggered, but only at the cost of their essential essence," Yang Jiang explained.
"What! Why would the Yan clan go so far, just to win? But as expected, only they could nurture such evil within themselves," Yin Feiyu remarked. "But when did you even have time to investigate this? You've been sitting here all along."
"Hehehehehe! Yang Wusheng actually gave us the opportunity. He knocked out his opponent with a final move that used all his strength, putting his opponent into a semi-comatose state. One of our plants on the Yan side, posing as an Alchemic healer, used the chance to examine him through acupuncture. That's how we made the discovery — though he couldn't find much more, as Wusheng had already defeated his opponent before they could trigger the black aura," Yang Jiang explained smugly.
"Ohhhh!" Yin Feiyu cooed, giving him a thumbs-up with her eyes.
"But unfortunately, we found nothing we could use against them," she added, her brows furrowing in contemplation.
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A couple of hours later ~
A commanding figure, radiating charisma, appeared on the arena stage, striding in casually.
He was elderly, with flowing white hair and a beard that blended with his long white brows and mustache. Despite his age, he had the build of a burly middle-aged man, every muscle packed with explosive power. He wore a leather armor that struggled to contain his formidable physique. But his most striking feature was his silver eyes — like still pools of molten metal.
He was the anchor of the tournament and the one who ensured fairness between the Yan clan and the YinYang Dynasty.
He was also the palatial leader of the Beast Tabernacle Palace — Duan Mu!
The Beast Tabernacle Palace was a third-ranked power in YinYang City, capital of the Primordial Carp Nation within the Celeste Domain. This force had always been mysterious and reclusive.
"The second round begins now!" Duan Mu announced, prompting wild cheers from the audience.
"The rules for the second round are simple, and I—" Duan Mu was explaining when a voice interrupted him.
"Fellow Daoist Mu, if I may, I have an interesting suggestion. Would you care to hear it?" The voice belonged to none other than Yan Rouxi — or, as everyone believed, Yan Youmie.
The crowd burst into hushed murmurs.
"What was she up to now?" The crowd though.
"Feel free to speak as you wish," Duan Mu nodded.
"Many thanks," Rouxi replied sweetly. "To make this round more interesting, let's change things up a bit. I'm sure everyone's bored with the usual random spars. Let's spice it up..."
"Cut to the chase. What are you getting at?" Yang Jiang cut in impatiently.
"Still as fiery as ever, Jiang. That's what I liked about you," Yan Rouxi said shamelessly, throwing him a coy wink.
Crowd: "(°•°) (@_@) ( ⊙.☉) \(•o•)/"
Yang Jiang: "......."
Yin Feiyu: "_@*©%¥™&$#(email protected)"
If looks could kill, Yan Rouxi would've been incinerated by Yin Feiyu's glare.
"Anyway, since you asked nicely, I'll be quick. I'm suggesting the second round be a melee. Isn't that a great idea?" Rouxi continued as if no one had reacted strangely towards her at all.
A melee?!
The crowd's excitement surged to new heights. Some even felt the blood rush to their heads.
If the YinYang Dynasty agreed to a melee, the second round would combine all the best elements of individual matches into one colossal battle.
Many spectators secretly prayed for the Dynasty to accept — it would be the show of a lifetime.
"Jiang, you're awfully quiet," Rouxi said teasingly.
"Okay, if you have nothing to say... Elder Mu, what do you think?" she asked, turning to him.
"I'm merely an old man. What decision could I make? I'll leave it between the two sides. If the YinYang Dynasty agrees, who am I to say nay?" Duan Mu replied, slowly stroking his long white beard, eyes half-closed.
As though expecting that, Yan Rouxi turned back to Yang Jiang, raising a brow.
"What's the catch?" he finally asked.
"Nothing! I'm just trying to raise the fun. I cross my heart," she said, making a cross over her ample chest.
"Doesn't count. You don't have a heart to begin with," Jiang retorted.
"Okay then. I swear on the undying love we once shared," she vowed in earnest.
"Never existed!" Jiang snapped.
"Tsk tsk tsk. Men are so fickle. Feiyu, you should watch out," Rouxi said with faux melancholy.
By now, Jiang had turned beet red, while Yin Feiyu clutched the edge of her seat in restraint. One more word and she would explode.
"Okay, fine. I swear on your wife's beauty," Rouxi said — clearly adding fuel to the fire.
"You c*nt!" Feiyu finally lost it, launching herself into the air, hands out to claw at Rouxi's face. Rouxi didn't even flinch, standing calmly as if welcoming her fate. Thankfully, Jiang restrained Feiyu just in time, or things would've turned ugly.
"Many thanks, Jiang'er. I knew you'd save me from that brute," Rouxi said sweetly, as though she'd just been rescued by her knight in shining armor.
Crowd: "(°•°) (@_@) ( ⊙.☉) \(•o•)/"
Yang Jiang: "......."
Yin Feiyu: "_@*©%¥™&$#(email protected)"
"Cough cough. Restrain yourselves. This is a public arena," Duan Mu finally interjected — even he had had enough.
"Yang Jiang, do you consent to the melee or not?" he asked, knowing full well that if he didn't step in, the Yan-YinYang drama would never end.
Melee! Melee!! Melee!!!"
No one knew who had started the chant, but like a raging wildfire, it spread across the entire coliseum. The crowd surged with energy, their voices rising in unison, shaking the very foundations of the Pit of the Damned.
Yang Jiang's brows furrowed deeply. His gaze was fixed on the center of the arena, but his mind churned.
Why? Why would she want a melee so badly? What's her aim? He couldn't find any logical reason for such a bold request. But as he thought deeper, he realized—if their side could adapt and strategize, if the dynasty's youngsters coordinated properly, their odds of victory might actually triple.
After a brief moment of internal court trial and debate, melee finally won the mental case, he clenched his fist, his voice like a divine judgment from the heavens.
"Let the melee begin!"
A thunderous roar erupted as the crowd exploded in excitement.
Moments later, ten combatants stood face-to-face under the blazing sun. The standoff between the Yan Clan and the Yin-Yang Dynasty was like two volcanoes on the verge of eruption.
On the Yin-Yang Dynasty's side: Yang Wei, Yang Mei, Yin Kai, Yang Wusheng, and Yin Daiyun—all clad in black and white battle armor, radiating icy Yin and fiery Yang auras.
Facing them were the elites of the Yan Clan: Yan Feitian, Yan Lei, Yan Rui, Yan Baifeng, and Yan Li—each calm, silent, yet exuding the sharpness of drawn swords.
Silence dominated. The tension was unbearable.
Then—clang! The metallic gong rang across the battlefield, signaling the beginning.