As soon as this match ended, Xue Yu and Feng Shangyu almost simultaneously leaped onto the competition platform. One scooped up the shrunken Tian Ao, the other carried away the dejected Jiu Feng, who was trying hard to lick her feathers, ignoring the thunderous amazement from the viewing stands.

In the spacious, first-floor, elegant room, not even having time to enter the door, Xue Yu held the lion cub-like Tian Ao with one hand while violently tearing with the other. Soft silk made a “ripping” sound, spreading flat on the ground like flawless plain paper.

She placed the utterly disheveled little beast from her arms. Immediately, thick blood spread across the silk. The miniaturized Tian Ao had very round eyes that looked like two extremely bright little lamps when staring at people. Even when displaying its body, it wasn’t very large, like a majestic little winged lion cast from steel.

Xue Yu quickly fed three demon power recovery pills to the little lion, slowly leaning into her embrace, watching it bite and swallow each one before pinching its two cold paws to examine them one by one.

It was very cooperative. When she wanted to see its claws, it retracted its long nails and hid them, leaving only a few soft paw pads resting in her palm.

Jiu Feng nearby wasn’t much better. Because she’d shrunk in size, some large wounds became smaller and weren’t as shocking as in her original form, but some places still showed broken bones.

Feng Shangyu’s atmospheric pressure rivaled Xue Yu’s as he stared at Jiu Feng’s three directly torn long feathers, breathing deeply.

Soon, a wave of people led by Shan Shu, Yin Ling, Sui Yu, and Sui Jinyu burst in. The door opened and closed. Jiu Feng looked up to meet their gazes, thought for a moment, and, feeling unable to bear so many people seeing her with only six tail feathers remaining, managed to gather strength and transform back to human form.

“I’ve opened my eyes today. You demons truly don’t fear death when fighting.” Shen Jingshi gave Jiu Feng a thumbs up with full admiration, then looked at Su You, who was focused on staying by Xue Yu’s side without sparing glances for others, and decided to care for Jiu Feng first: “Does it hurt? How do you feel?”

“Feel? Thoroughly satisfied, fought very satisfyingly!” Jiu Feng was truly seriously injured. Battles between top-tier giant beasts never showed mercy—the blood cascading like floods from the sky and broken bones proved everything.

Her face was pale, coughing with every word, but her eyes were bright, glowing with burning light. She even seemed to want another round: “I haven’t let loose and fought someone head-on like this in a long time. Sui Jinyu is like a mouse, only willing to compete in technique, not willing to truly fight to the death like this.”

Sui Jinyu looked at Su You, heartbroken but helpless, his chest full of anger. When Jiu Feng spoke, he coolly raised his eyes: “I’d have to be sick to fight you like this.”

“Cough, cough, you don’t know how spectacular that final move was. My head was empty then.” She gulped down a mouthful of blood surging up, smiling with curved eyes: “Worth it. Three feathers didn’t fall for nothing. Next time I…”

Speaking of this, she paused, turning her head hesitantly: “Hmm? Why is someone’s hand shaking?”

Yin Ling couldn’t bear to look at Feng Shangyu’s expression anymore. She silently looked away and asked: “You won’t make everyone who fights you afterward accompany you in battles like this, will you?”

As her words fell, Cang Ju and Lu Chen, who ranked in the top five and ten, immediately looked over.

They would have to fight Chu Yaoxiang, so they were particularly concerned about this question.

Jiu Feng ignored them. She turned to look at Feng Shangyu, who held her with lowered eyes but a very stiff body, fingers drooping, his expression an indescribably cold severity.

Jiu Feng looked and gripped his fingertips, her arrogance immediately diminishing by half: “Don’t be like that. This isn’t serious. It’ll grow back in a few months. Please talk.”

Jiu Feng had a big temper and fought fiercely, but her body was small with delicate bone structure—she could be held completely in one hand. Such a person had every drop of blood crying out with fanatical freedom, pursuing intensity unto death.

“What did you promise me before?” Feng Shangyu spoke almost through gritted teeth: “This is what you called ‘not forcing it, just going through the motions’?”

Jiu Feng felt slightly guilty as she turned her wrist, then noticed something was wrong. She lifted her limp palm to his face, waving it: “Broken.”

“Yes.” Feng Shangyu poured demon power into her while speaking through clenched teeth: “Not just your hand is broken. Right now, there’s not a single good spot on your entire body.”

Compared to the liveliness on that side, Xue Yu and Tian Ao on the other side were incredibly quiet, with basically only shallow breathing remaining. Others watched with their eyes and hearts, following in silence, except for Chen Longzhi.

Chen Longzhi walked around the miniature Tian Ao with great interest, looking again and again, rubbing his hands as he discussed with Sui Yu: “I see many people have never seen a real Tian Ao. If we made portrait paintings to sell at Shenyu Pavilion, quite a few people would buy them.”

Sui Yu reached out to turn his face the other way, speaking concisely with poor tone: “Scram.”

Shan Shu ignored them. She half-crouched to meet Xue Yu’s gaze, asking worriedly: “How is it? Are the injuries serious? He still has another match later.”

“Demon power consumption isn’t small. Both internal and external injuries are significant.” Whether in human form or true original form, Su You appeared thin, but after shrinking, she carried a heavy, substantial feeling. Xue Yu gathered it under her soft sleeve hem, saying softly: “Let’s see. How long until the next match?”

“An hour and a half.” Shen Jingshi answered.

Xue Yu nodded without saying more.

Even with top demon beast bloodlines being powerful with strong healing abilities, even after swallowing the most expensive healing pills and recovering in original form, those tears, bites, and desperate collision wounds absolutely couldn’t improve in just two short hours.

Two hours passed in a flash.

Lu Qin led disciples lingering outside the door in, smelling the thick bloody scent and inevitably pausing: “It’s time to take the stage. The judges are all in position, the spiritual barrier has been reinforced, and Song Heng has also entered.”

“How can Nineteen go up like this?” Sui Jinyu immediately frowned, speaking quite irritably: “Why not forget it? Even if we give humans a position, third is third—it’s just a ranking.”

Just a ranking—could it be more important than a person?

Su You jumped out of Xue Yu’s sleeve, leaning against the red lacquer and gold-painted pillar as he transformed to human form.

He half-sat with one leg bent, his palm resting on it. His complexion was like not having seen sunlight for decades—light shining on it could even show the distinct small meridians under his skin. His voice carried the hoarseness of recovering from serious illness: “It’s fine. I’ll go now.”

Sui Jinyu looked at Xue Yu. He realized his words had no use—if anyone’s words mattered, it would be Xue Yu speaking up.

Xue Yu stood up, scanning him from top to bottom. She didn’t tell him not to go, only asking: “Have you decided? Really going?”

Someone once said she carried a heavy distance, clearly separating public from private. Even with extremely close people, she never made emotional demands based on her feelings.

Su You walked before her, reaching out to hook her fingertip: “Going.”

Xue Yu lowered her eyes in silence for a while. His finger still rested on the back of her hand—a burning temperature like a lava beast with boiling blood locked inside his body, surging and roaring.

Honestly, going to compete in this condition was too dangerous.

“Let’s go.” She moved her lips, ultimately saying nothing more, and walked toward the competition platform.

When their group arrived, the viewing stands were already packed beyond capacity. Some people even stood on their companions’ shoulders, stretching their necks to look, itching unbearably to know how spectacular this match that would truly decide the top three Prodigy Rankings seats would be.

Simultaneously, phrases like “Demon Capital’s New Master” and “Tian Ao Appears in the World” were frequently mentioned. Everyone was extremely curious about this ancient giant beast that appeared from nowhere with ridiculously strong combat power. While curious, they inevitably mentioned Xue Yu.

This Sacred Land’s successor was most mysterious, quiet, and cold, but in the previous match, she had indeed carried away the mutually wounded Tian Ao after its fight with Jiu Feng.

Any topic involving “hero” and “beauty” always spreads at the fastest speed. Therefore, when Xue Yu and Su You appeared again before thousands of eyes, the entire viewing stand’s sound waves visibly rose.

When they arrived, Song Heng was already standing on the competition platform.

Xue Yu stood below, looking up, able to see his considerably thinner profile. He still wore plain white clothing, his entire being illuminated by sunlight with quite an ethereal, ascending immortal bearing.

Even frowning and pressing his lip line, he appeared extraordinarily gentle.

Such a person didn’t lack followers—many young ladies were completely charmed by this temperament, watching his every match.

After just two glances, before Song Heng could look over, Xue Yu withdrew her gaze. She looked at Su You, speaking methodically: “After you go up, don’t listen to his nonsense. Directly release the All-Life Array to suppress…”

As she spoke, she gradually noticed something was wrong, pressing her lips and stopping. The All-Life Array required massive spiritual power to activate. He’d just finished fighting Jiu Feng, with so many broken bones and blood holes one after another. With less than thirty percent of his cultivation recovered, where would he get vast demon power?

Xue Yu slowly frowned. After a long while, she said softly, “Actually, there’s no need to take this match. If you want to beat him, I’ll beat him for you—it’s just tomorrow’s matter.”

“Your Highness.” Su You faced Song Heng’s substantial gaze, slowly raising his eyes. To dispel the gravity in her words, his tone even carried slight laughter: “Putting him and Jiu Feng on the same level, Jiu Feng could jump up and curse now.”

“He can’t compare to Chu Yaoxiang, but in your current state, you can’t even display half your peak combat power.”

“Less than half is still enough to beat him.” Su You looked into her eyes, speaking with particular seriousness: “A Yu, this is the one match I absolutely cannot retreat from.”

Just then, the judge looked up at the sky, checked the time, and signaled Su You to enter.

“Please wait for me a moment, Your Highness.” Su You pulled at his lip corner, his voice trying desperately to be gentle but with unsatisfactory results: “Half an hour will do. Is that alright?”

With words reaching this point, Xue Yu stepped aside and bunched up his sleeve: “Don’t be stubborn. Your body is most important.”

Su You leaped onto the competition platform, and the spiritual barrier immediately closed behind him.

He faced Song Heng with a face completely drained of blood color, looking frail and weak, while observing with interest the stacked red blood vessels in Song Heng’s eyes and the dark circles beneath them.

Then he smiled and scoffed, his left hand tossing his sword into mid-air, then kneeing it to produce a “humming” ring. The blade left its sheath, and his first sword struck at an unexpected angle toward the transmission stones embedded in the spiritual barrier.

The transmission stones were small and positioned at tricky angles, but his sword-wielding force was more exquisite. Unable to withstand this strike, they exploded into powder simultaneously.

The tens of thousands of spectators on the viewing stands could no longer hear what the people inside were saying.

Song Heng watched this scene, his mind occupied with images of Xue Yu and Su You meeting each other’s gazes—that naturally revealed look and details couldn’t be faked.

Previously, he’d told himself countless times that Xue Yu was just that kind of personality. Someone born sitting on a throne wouldn’t know that emotions required mutual effort from both parties, not his sole bitter support. She was cold, proud, and absolutely wouldn’t bend that noble Yedu royal spine to accompany someone in various boring small matters.

However, he was wrong.

Su You and Jiu Feng fought for over an hour, and she watched below for over an hour. Right in the closest position, as seriously focused as reviewing memorials. After the match ended, her eyes held no one else, nor did she think about how her every word and action represented Yedu’s dignity when away from home.

She was so nervous, so heartbroken.

“I didn’t expect you to come.” Just looking at his face and hearing his voice, Song Heng truly had no aggressiveness, like a gentle lake with a unique, inclusive temperament: “You’re seriously injured yet insist on coming. This is too dismissive of me.”

“If I didn’t come, wouldn’t you be disappointed all day?” Su You looked at him and smiled: “Speaking of it, you only know these tricks of taking advantage of others’ difficulties.”

“I’ll show mercy to everyone except you.” Song Heng spoke slowly, as if wanting to release all the frustration pressed in his chest for over twenty years: “Fight to the death.”

“Do you remember what you said when we met ten years ago?” When Su You smiled, his eye corners would stretch into straight lines on both sides—formerly stunning, now releasing sudden, dangerous intent. He weighed his sword sheath into afterimages: “I indeed stayed by her side, with the most qualified status to advance and retreat with her hand in hand.”

Song Heng naturally remembered those words. For this, he’d awakened countless times from meditation, sitting with moon shadows until dawn in panic.

—”I can barely resist using every means to seduce her, make her pity me, make her heartbroken, make her soft-hearted.”

—”She retreats one step, I advance one step. I covet her, desire her. No matter what, regardless of everything, I must completely possess her.”

He had succeeded.

Xue Yu was with him, pitying him, heartbroken for him, considering him in everything, even personally accompanying a simple competition.

And Song Heng—he never, never had such treatment.

Song Heng could bear it no longer. His folding fan swept horizontally, his form ghostlike as he stepped through blue smoke in mid-air. The entire spiritual barrier was instantly filled with blinding smoke.

Before long, the folding fan pressed down like a mountain. Su You slowly and lightly hummed, with rising intonation. His famous sword burst into hundreds of sword lights with lightning speed.

Ninety-five percent of the fan’s force was deflected, leaving only half a percent of weak force hitting Su You’s chest. Su You pretended to retreat three steps, slightly yielding to the force, making the fan’s position deviate to around his collarbone. With harsh tearing sounds, his fine clothing tore a long gash on the neck.

Song Heng immediately realized this person was doing it deliberately, instinctively dodging aside from bodily reflex.

He thought Su You had some special countermeasure for him.

Looking up along that torn fabric, his gaze froze, his breathing unconsciously held for an instant. Then, like a towering wave crashing toward him, he almost desperately gripped his folding fan, gripping until knuckles protruded and veins jumped.

Yes, it was indeed a countermeasure for him.

Su You’s skin was very white, making any special marks particularly eye-catching. Behind that torn fabric, several purplish bite marks were exposed—not even bites, but a kind of uncontrolled sucking.

Who else could it be?

Who else?

Song Heng’s mind seemed to explode with magnificent fireworks, making him dizzy and bloody.

Xue Yu—did she also have moments of uncontrollable emotion, wanting to leave mark after mark on someone’s body?

Then why, why wasn’t it him?

Originally, it should have been him.

Su You stood with sword in hand, as if only coming to show off something, but had no patience to observe his colorful expressions.

Almost immediately, he raised his sword to slash furrows—vertical, horizontal, covering all kinds of endless angles with deep killing sword energy.

His sword energy was sharp and condensed, forcing Song Heng to treat it seriously. But that patch of skin was so glaringly offensive, like rotting flesh constantly swaying before his eyes.

Though Song Heng’s cultivation was directly infused by his ancestors, he hadn’t been injured and should have steadily held the upper hand. But Su You was too decisive.

He could clash head-on without making a sound, having finger bones broken without blinking—as if it wasn’t his body but machinery used for suppression and killing. Moreover, his sword intent was exquisite, all extremely fierce moves. Sometimes, sword energy ripples would rebound onto him, and he didn’t care at all.

This was who Xue Yu liked.

What was good about him? Dangerous, brutal, ambitious—given time, he’d become uncontrollable.

In the gap when they crossed paths, Song Heng gritted his teeth and spat out words: “What are you proud of… Initially, she saved you only to anger me.”

Su You indeed shouldn’t have such explosive power after a serious injury. As wounds on his body burst and blood splattered, his sword movements became faster and more severe. Correspondingly, his rationality was in extreme danger.

His eyes narrowed into vertical pupils, five fingers curved into claws. Golden down like molten gold even appeared on the back of his hands as he grabbed Song Heng and smashed him to the ground with absolute violence.

Due to this action, his chest was pierced with a fist-sized hole.

Hot blood sprayed out.

Su You remained unmoved. His breath was hot, making scalps tingle with terror when brushing against faces.

He grabbed Song Heng, violently twisting the wrist holding the folding fan, listening to that tooth-aching bone-breaking sound while using the enemy’s weapon to slap his face, speaking wildly as if hearing some incredibly ridiculous joke: “For you? To anger you?”

Song Heng’s face twisted momentarily from pain.

Compared to a real madman, he had perception and pain sensation—naturally, he also had weaknesses.

Song Heng felt his internal organs would shatter. He borrowed force, risking having flesh torn away alive, rolling aside, then rising with momentum, climbing steadily.

He could see that Su You was using some secret technique to temporarily gather most of his attack power, but correspondingly, his sanity would weaken. Dragging it out further, he’d become a raging, fierce beast.

Tian Ao—he’d never seen one, but with such a great reputation, he dared not underestimate it.

No matter what, for public and private reasons, he had to win today’s match.

“Save it.” Su You wasn’t surprised Song Heng could escape his grasp. He lowered his eyes, his paper-white cheeks steaming with fever-like rosy blush, speaking slowly as if pondering each word’s meaning: “Xue Yu wouldn’t save a prisoner to anger anyone.”

Similarly, she couldn’t abandon saving any possibly wronged person because of being once bitten by a snake.

“Even if you betray her a hundred times.” He tilted his head, slowly biting out words: “Until the final moment before the judgment platform ends, she would still want me.”

Song Heng was slightly stunned.

The next moment, before his eyes, he truly witnessed wings belonging to Tian Ao.

Smooth, slender lines with feathers arranged like blade edges, tightly pressed against skin. Both sides dragged long tail feathers like the most heart-stopping, lingering final stroke from a painter’s brush.

At this moment, the last trace of “human” rationality in Su You’s pupils also scattered.

Blue veins bulged on Song Heng’s forehead.

He realized things might spiral beyond his control. Without a sure-win method to suppress him, which seriously injured person would come to fight again?

Who would?

No one would.

His cultivation had water in it, and more combat techniques remained at the level from over a decade ago. Facing an irrational Tian Ao, having no chance of victory seemed natural.

Unless using arrays. Using that ancient great array in his hand.

But no—using it meant exposing himself. Xue Yu was so clever; she’d notice in advance and stop him at all costs.

Regardless of his willingness to admit it, he’d already lost Xue Yu. This was a fact.

Then his life’s meaning, only meaning, was for the human race.

Su You’s claw viciously grabbed his shoulder, tearing off half his forearm. Shocking agony came overwhelmingly. Song Heng barely supported himself while unable to resist looking at Xue Yu’s expression.

What kind of look would she show now?

He was violently thrown from mid-air to the ground by brutal heat waves, startling dust. When turning his head, he finally found Xue Yu’s figure.

She stood at the spiritual barrier’s very edge, easy to find. He hadn’t found her because her gaze truly wasn’t on him at all, but on that savage monster behind him.

She was frowning, but still beautiful, just like that stunning first glimpse when he initially met her.

Song Heng slightly extended his hand in her direction, as if desperately trying to get closer. The next moment, his finger bones were heavily crushed.

Like an absolute tyrant whose possession was coveted, those burning golden pupils filled with gloom and possessiveness. Without doubt, he would tear apart the person before him the next moment, completely and ruthlessly obliterating everything.

Song Heng couldn’t die here.

He couldn’t see Xue Yu’s expression. His final action was just raising his hand toward the judges in the sky: “I surrender.”

I surrender.

Su You didn’t stop his movements. The spiritual barrier immediately opened, and human judges frantically protected the severely blood-lost Song Heng.

Xue Yu, Sui Jinyu, and Sui Yu almost simultaneously entered the platform, heading toward Su You, but were quickly swept away heavily by him.

“Nineteen?” Sui Jinyu covered his chest, gasping in disbelief.

“Blood Burning Curse.” Sui Yu stopped, frowning: “He has no rationality now and can’t recognize people.”

But Su You recognized Xue Yu.

As Xue Yu approached him, he hesitantly stopped moving, turning his head to look at her like observing something novel.

“Come here. Come back with me to heal.” Xue Yu didn’t dare pressure him, walking close and extending one hand, speaking softly.

The two faced each other, also like confronting each other.

After a long while, Su You pulled that hand, but not to obediently follow her for healing. Instead, he violently dragged it to his blood-streaming chest, using his two massive wings to completely wrap her up, with a treasuring attitude like enshrining some sacred offering.

His spine trembled from long-term high-intensity battle, his breath hot like lava: “Xue Yu, mine.”