Gasps rippled through the crowd like wind brushing over still water—subtle at first, then growing as realization settled in.
This wasn't confidence.This was disrespect—again.And somehow, even bolder than before.
( He's… eating? Before the duel even starts? )
( No bow. No greetings. No formality… )
( Is this arrogance… or madness? )
The disciples sitting closest to the stage exchanged uneasy glances. Some leaned forward, others leaned back, unsure whether to admire Kazel or recoil from the storm that was surely about to break.
Even seasoned elders watching from the shadows tensed.
( This brat's not just fearless… he's deliberate. He's drawing a line in the sand. )
Up in the high seats, Mei Rong's brows knitted tight. She didn't know whether to frown or smile.
( He's insane. But damn if he doesn't make it look natural. )
Xie Lian's owl-like eyes narrowed slightly, his fingers tapping on his knee.
( Sloppy posture… open weakness… no spirit pressure… and yet he's controlling the entire arena. )
Jin Shui, simply folded his arms with a smirk on his face.
( The air's heavy. He didn't raise it… but somehow, he's the center of it. )
And as for Ondira, her legs still crossed, lips curled ever so slightly.
( Keep eating, Kazel. I want to see if your bite matches your appetite. )
Meanwhile, Wu Rong said nothing.
He simply looked from Kazel… to Agabah.
One, chewing noodles like he'd already won.The other, standing still—boiling, teeth clenched, veins throbbing under flawless skin.
The crowd didn't know who to cheer for.
They didn't know if they should cheer.
They only knew one thing—
This duel was no longer about skill.
This was now a battle of dominance.
And Kazel had thrown the first piece.
Not with a blade.
But with a bowl.
The tension reached its peak—then cracked, as a sharp voice rang out like a whip:
"You insolent brat!"
It was Agabah's elder.
His face twisted in disdain, voice loud enough to reach even the farthest row of spectators.
"Show some respect before this sacred duel! Or has your mouth forgotten the meaning of reverence?"
Dozens turned to look at Kazel, expecting a reaction. A flinch. A glare. Even the smallest twitch of acknowledgment.
Instead—
Kazel didn't even raise his eyes.
He stopped chewing, looked at his bowl, and with a flick of his fingers, made a lazy swatting gesture near the edge of the porcelain rim.
As if to say:
"Shoo."
"Don't bother my food, fly."
Then, chopsticks back in hand, he resumed slurping—loud and satisfied.
The noodles disappeared in smooth pulls, steam rising like battle aura from the broth.
( The best kind of carbs, ) he thought, savoring the richness.
The elder turned crimson, fists clenched at his sides. Rage and shame fought for dominance in his face. He was an elder of the Second Moon—yet he was being treated like an insect. But the rules were clear.
This was Agabah's duel.
He had no right to interfere.
And that, somehow, only deepened his humiliation.
Up above, Wu Rong finally exhaled.
"Kazel," he called, voice calm but firm. "Are you ready?"
Kazel finished his bite, then tilted the bowl back and let the broth slide down with a satisfied gulp.
"Ah~."
He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, then finally looked at Wu Rong.
"Right. One thing though."He tilted his head.
"What kind of prize do I win again?"
Silence.
Absolute, stunned silence.
Even the wind outside the Jade Basin held its breath.
Agabah froze.
The elder blinked in disbelief.
The crowd? Unmoving.
What kind of question was that?
Who—who asks about rewards right before a battle?!
This wasn't a tournament. This was a formal duel. The stakes were honor, vengeance, reputation.
But to Kazel?
It was just another match.
Another day.
Another bowl of noodles.
"Y-You!" Agabah's voice cracked as he swallowed his rage. His eyes burned with a fierce light as he declared, "Fine, if you win, you can get whatever item you want in Jade Basin—and I will pay for it. But if you lose," he paused, a sinister smirk creeping across his face while his thin mustache twitched in satisfaction, "you will kneel, you will kowtow, and bark like a dog as you apologize."
The demand exploded over the crowd like a sudden gust of wind. Gasps and murmurs swirled as every spectator grappled with the sheer audacity of Agabah's challenge. Even Wu Rong let out a heavy sigh—a seasoned veteran well-aware that Agabah was notorious for offering outrageous terms when his pride was on the line.
Kazel, ever unruffled despite the charged atmosphere, tilted his head slightly and asked with a calm lilt, "What cultivation are you?"
Agabah's smirk only deepened as he responded with a confident scoff, "Heh, Soul Refining Realm. Ever heard of that? Bet you rarely meet one." His tone dripped with derision, as though he expected awe rather than inquiry.
"Indeed," Kazel replied coolly, his eyes gleaming with mischievous amusement. "But is that the next realm after Body Tempering?"
For a beat, the silence of the crowd was almost palpable. Then Agabah barked, "Are you stupid or something? Of course it is!" His words splintered the silence, a burst of arrogant indignation.
Kazel merely shrugged, his expression unchanging as he took one final look at Agabah—a look that mingled both condescension and nonchalance—before he lifted his bowl to his lips again. With a resounding gulp, he downed the remaining broth. "Oh... is that so," he said, almost apologetically, yet without a hint of regret. "Sorry, but this noodle is one of the rewards for winning Scale Dalgona."
Agabah's face contorted further at the casual remark. "That measly tournament meant nothing outside your crude land," he spat, unable to suppress another jolt of venom in his words.
The air vibrated with tension as Wu Rong watched everything unfold with a quiet, solemn resignation. The stakes were no longer just about honor or pride. This duel had become a battleground for clashing realms, bruised egos, and a history that refused to be forgotten.
As the echoes of Agabah's outrage faded, all eyes remained fixed on the two figures—one exuding unchecked arrogance, the other calm and dangerously indifferent—each standing as the embodiment of conflicting worlds in the ancient halls of the Jade Basin.
"Alright," Wu Rong clapped his hands, the crisp sound cutting through the tension like a blade. "Let me explain the rules. No killing, no crippling. If the opponent can no longer fight, it's over. If the opponent steps outside the platform, it's also over."
His eyes scanned both sides before continuing, "Weapons—you may use them. We have professional physicians on standby, courtesy of Jade Basin. Besides…" he allowed a faint smirk to tug his lips, "I think even they are excited about this duel."
The crowd murmured in agreement, a strange buzz building in their chests.
Agabah took a step forward and smirked confidently. "Are you ready to get beat up?"
Kazel didn't answer. He was still holding the bowl in one hand and chopsticks in the other, as if the stage was his dining room and not a battlefield.
Wu Rong didn't push for a response. He merely nodded, then flicked his wrist—and a spirit stone shot upward before slowly descending between the two fighters.
All eyes locked on the falling crystal.
Every breath held.
Every heartbeat slowed.
The arena was still.
The moment the spirit stone touched the ground—
Tick—
"Face the might of the Second Moon! Ant!" Agabah roared, lunging forward with terrifying momentum, his sword flashing with soul-imbued light. Behind him, a manifestation burst forth—a colossal brown bear with four eyes and four massive arms, howling as it mirrored its master's fury.
"The Four-Eyed Grizzly!" Mei Rong gasped.
From the upper seats, the elder accompanying Agabah smirked with satisfaction.
( That Four-Eyed Grizzly grants tremendous strength, unmatched in the Rare category. It's practically a brute's divine blessing. )
Agabah's sword came down like a judge's hammer—but Kazel?
Kazel stepped aside.Calmly. Precisely. Almost lazily.
The sword slammed into the platform, sending a jolt through the stone, a crack forming, a gust of wind exploding outward.
"Here comes anoth—?!" Agabah prepared to follow up—but paused.
His pupils shrank.
There was no sword waiting for him.
Only porcelain white.
CRACK!
The bowl slammed into his face with a ruthless swing, the ceramic shattering on impact. Agabah's head jerked to the side, his body staggering back in disbelief.
The crowd didn't scream.Didn't cheer.Didn't even breathe.
Blood trickled down Agabah's forehead.
Silence.
Then—Kazel flicked away the chopsticks, letting them clatter on the stone platform.
He looked at Agabah, eyes cold and voice casual.
"Those utensils could kill you."
He rolled his neck with a satisfying crack, then loosened his shoulders.
"Now then…"
Agabah's face twisted in fury. "Y-You!"
The spirit manifestation of the Four-Eyed Grizzly erupted behind him again, snarling, its presence pressing down like a storm.
A menacing force.
But Kazel?
Kazel stood still.
Unbothered.
A chill passed through the stage as another presence surged to life.
The temperature dropped.
Frost crackled across the edge of the dueling platform as a spirit beast slowly emerged behind Kazel—
Ashen fur.Jagged stripes.Golden eyes glowing with hunger.Long, limber arms.And a howl like winter's wrath.
A Frostfang.
The crowd shivered at the very sight.
Not just from the cold—
But from fear.
Majestic.Terrifying.Silent.
It stared down the Four-Eyed Grizzly like a predator eying prey.
Mei Rong's lips parted in awe.Jin Shui's brow furrowed deeply.Even Xie Lian's ever-calm expression darkened.Ondira sat forward.
Wu Rong's eyes widened faintly.