Chapter 153

Shuang Ning let out a muffled groan and was flung backward, a streak of azure blood trickling from her lips; her aura instantly withered, her wings behind her growing faint and unstable.

Ye Lingxi’s fingertip had not only shattered her absolute defense, but also driven a chilling, deathly force into her body, relentlessly eroding her vitality!

Ye Lingxi herself was far from unharmed—forcing greater power from the Ice Phoenix Feather, activating Momentary Eternity, and enduring the backlash from burning the True Blood of the Ice Phoenix had left her gravely injured.

The arm she had extended temporarily lost sensation; her internal qi churned violently, the Xuanming cold energy grew chaotic, leaving her powerless to launch any effective attack.

The two stood dozens of meters apart, gazing at each other across the distance, both gasping heavily as they struggled to calm the violent energies and severe injuries within.

Anyone could see they were both at their absolute limit.

Yet in the end, Ye Lingxi collapsed first, unable to hold on, while Shuang Ning still clung on through the Phoenix clan’s formidable self-healing ability.

The human cultivators knew that if they held out any longer, once Shuang Ning recovered, Ye Lingxi would be unable to withstand her—they could only call a halt and concede defeat.

“Match Eleven… the human side concedes voluntarily; the beast side wins.”

The Law’s voice proclaimed the result once more.

The human camp watched as Ye Lingxi was carried away by members of the Ye family, their emotions complex and indescribable.

They had not won, but facing such a powerful descendant of the Ice Phoenix, holding out this long was already a tremendous success.

In the beast camp, morale soared—this victory had narrowed the gap with the humans; if they won just one more match or drew another, they would claim victory.

Four wins, four losses, three draws.

The consecutive earth-shattering draws had crushed the atmosphere of the Fallen God Platform to its lowest point.

The human camp looked at the few remaining prodigies left—besides Jiang Xia, who was in the first tier, only Ling Zhantian and others remained.

The beast side clearly realized this as well.

The spectral forms of several Demon Saints flickered faintly in the clouds, their icy wills sweeping across the human camp, brimming with unhidden arrogance and oppression.

They seemed to be waiting—for the humans to send Jiang Xia, the last one destined to face the Mayfly, then crush the entire arena battle with absolute power.

“Match Twelve—begin!”

The Law’s voice rang like a final ultimatum, striking every heart.

The human camp fell into silence. Who would go? Jiang Xia must be saved for last; Qin Hao and Du Gu Yun were in poor condition—sending them up would likely mean death.

In this suffocating silence, a figure from the beast camp had already rushed onto the arena, unable to wait any longer.

It was not the Mayfly as expected, but a woman draped in seven-colored auroras, her beauty peerless, her noble aura seemingly innate.

The moment she appeared, the spiritual energy of the entire arena seemed to bow before her; a pressure rooted in the origin of life enveloped all around—even purer than the Vermilion Bird or Ice Phoenix before!

A Phoenix descendant—the true pure-blooded Phoenix, Huang Jiutian!

“Beast side, Huang Jiutian.” Her voice was ethereal, yet carried a cold detachment, as if overlooking all living things.

“Mortal ants, who among Itachi still dares to fight? If none do, consider yourselves defeated by default.”

Her gaze swept across the human camp, lingering slightly on Jiang Xia with a hint of scrutiny, but mostly radiating contempt—as if he were unworthy of her hand.

She had clearly come to close the show, yet seemed to believe the humans had no worthy opponents, stepping forward early to crush their confidence with overwhelming force.

This arrogance pierced like icy needles through the dignity of every human cultivator.

Jiang Xia’s eyes turned icy; he clenched his fists. His spiritual power had not yet fully settled, but if no one else stepped forward, he would ascend the arena immediately—even against a fully restored Huang Jiutian!

At this critical moment—

“Concede? Do Itachi, Itachi feathered mongrel, even deserve to make the human race surrender?”

A slightly hoarse, yet defiant and familiar voice suddenly rang out from behind the human camp!

Everyone whipped their heads around!

A golden figure walked forward step by step from the rear.

Wherever he stepped, the ground blackened, the air warped, yet the flames carried a sacred, majestic aura.

It was Akatsuki Jin!

Wasn’t he carried off, gravely wounded and near death? How could he possibly…

Akatsuki Jin’s face was still pale, but his eyes burned brighter and hotter than ever before!

As if two condensed white suns blazed within them. His aura was no longer merely the wild fury of the Burning Heaven Golden Flame—it now carried a terrifying pressure of the very origin of fire!

Not only had he fully recovered, but he seemed… stronger than before!

“Senior Brother Akatsuki!”

“Akatsuki Jin! Itachi—”

Disciples of the Burning Heaven Pavilion nearly wept with excitement; others were stunned yet overjoyed.

Akatsuki Jin stepped to the front, nodded slightly to Ye Ting and the others, then his gaze passed over them all, landing directly on Huang Jiutian atop the arena, a signature arrogant smile curling on his lips.

“A brief retreat, and now some feathered beast dares to bluster here.”

He flexed his wrists; bones cracked audibly, pure white flames dancing at his fingertips. “Your opponent is me.”

For the first time, Huang Jiutian’s cold expression darkened with anger: “Itachi? The human who used forbidden flames and nearly burned himself to death? Itachi’re still alive—and Itachi dare show yourself?”

“Thanks to Itachi,” Akatsuki Jin stepped onto the arena, each footfall leaving behind a slowly spinning white fire lotus, “I didn’t die. And I took the chance… to be reborn from the flames.”

He stopped opposite Huang Jiutian; invisible forces between them clashed violently—one side radiating seven-colored auroras, noble and majestic; the other, pure white flames, domineering and awe-inspiring.

“Reborn from the flames?”

Huang Jiutian seemed to hear the greatest joke imaginable, her exquisite face twisting with mockery.

“Absurd! Nirvana rebirth is the supreme technique of the Phoenix clan—how could a mortal ant possibly comprehend it? This is merely the dying gasp of a dying man, a fleeting afterglow!”

“Whether it’s a fleeting afterglow—Itachi’ll find out.”

Akatsuki Jin had no more words to waste; white flames erupted in his eyes. “Perfect—I’ll use Itachi to test my newly mastered power!”

He struck first—still a simple, direct punch!

But this time, the fist was wreathed not in golden flame, but in pure white Imperial Flame radiating imperial might!

“Imperial Flame—Burn the Star!”

With one punch, a miniature white star seemed born before his fist, crushing toward Huang Jiutian!

Huang Jiutian’s expression shifted slightly—she sensed in this punch a fire power purer and more primordial than when Akatsuki Jin had fought Huo Dou!

It was not merely a matter of temperature—it was… a rank suppression!

“Phoenix True Flame—Rising Sun!”

She dared not delay; her jade hand thrust forward, seven-colored auroras converging into a brilliant, radiant seven-colored sun brimming with vitality and sacred energy, charging toward that white star!

“BOOM—!!!”

Pure white and seven-colored—two utterly distinct ultimate flames—collided like twin comets!

No explosion—only a stranger phenomenon: mutual annihilation and consumption.