Blue Mohawk

"Hey, stop looking into the distance all wistfully! Little bastard, look at me when I kill you!"

Yaan silent turned to face his opponent. When he saw this person, he wondered if recovering from his injuries had even been necessary. That said, as he went up the levels of the 4th Trial Realm, he noticed a trend.

His opponents were getting bigger.

Some of them still claimed to be human, but Yaan seriously doubted this. He had met humans. He was once human himself. Humans didn't grow into ten feet tall behemoths. They also weren't so perfectly suited towards body cultivation like many of the opponents that he faced these days.

Zue Yin was feeling tense as she watched the battle from the audience stand. There was always a large turnout for every battle on the 4th level and up, though Yaan still hadn't even bothered learning how to enter these spectator seats.

Zue Yin knew that Yaan was strong, but his opponent was far beyond her expectations!

For now, she decided to remain in the upper 3rd level to accumulate experience, before she ventured to the 4th level and took on these freaks of nature. Of course, her main issue was that as a Qi refiner, she was heavily suppressed here, both by the enhanced gravity and the increased Spiritual Pressure. Both of these external forces were detrimental to Qi refiners, but they didn't affect body temperers to nearly the same extent.

As the 12 foot tall man, made a foot taller by his glowing blue Mohawk, closed in on Yaan, the ground beneath his feet cracked ever so slightly. Many people who saw this felt shocked...what strength did it take to damage these stadiums? This sort of physical prowess was unreal!

Of course, only those who were unfamiliar with 4th level battles felt shocked by this level of strength, anyone who had seen a 4th level match before didn't feel that it was too extreme. Still, this person was clearly powerful, even on the 4th level.

Yaan stood still, unmoving, watching as the enemy approached.

For some reason, despite being in midst of a life and death battle, he couldn't help but think back to those illusions…the lives and deaths of the many animals and beasts…the pitiful ending of the mortal man…the helpless sadness and grief of the female cultivator, a sadness so deep that she shed tears of blood essence due to the pain which enveloped her heart to the point of inflicting damage.

Unknowingly, a strange aura began to spread out from Yaan's body.

The mohawk man felt cautious. He had researched his opponent, he knew just how vicious the 'child' before him could be. Even so, he charged ahead, picking up more and more momentum as he approached. He knew that if he hit the boy with this much momentum, his body would explode into countless bloody fragment!

Yaan calmly looked up, making eye contact with the blood-crazed giant of a man. As those illusions filled his mind, those scenes depicting the pain and suffering shared between all living things, Yaan couldn't help but recall his life, remembering the times that he had suffered, the times that he had felt helpless, unwilling, and filled with despair…

His life had not been a joyous one, he had not experienced much happiness.

Nobody would care if he died, and he no longer had anyone that he himself truly cared for.

In truth, he found it difficult to explain why it was that he felt so driven to continue living.

As Yaan thought back on his painful life, the audience became silent. They all had the same feeling in this moment; this was not the atmosphere of a hot-blooded battle…

This atmosphere could only be described with one word - desolate.

Yaan, now caught up in his own musings, freely released his aura without even realising it. For once, he didn't hide himself, he didn't conceal his feelings, and he faced his opponent with an honest sigh.

Unbeknownst to himself, Yaan started to create his own personal illusion, one which had been partially developed after witnessing the ends of so many lives, but especially the female cultivator's blood-soaked tears of grief.

This illusion could not be seen, nor could it be heard – this illusion could only be felt.

His heart resonated with the woman's plight, not because of her specific experiences, but because he understood her feelings. That soul-draining feeling of hopelessness and despair…the guilt, the regret, the hatred towards yourself…the sadness when your heart knew that all was lost…

All of these emotions flooded through Yaan's aura and spread out to cover the area. Honestly, he didn't understand why his opponent had not yet attacked. Yaan was in a strange state, but he wasn't so dazed that he was about to throw his life away. If he was attacked, he would kill. But until then, for some reason, he just didn't feel like moving.

As the small child stared up at him, the mohawk man's sharp teeth ground together. He felt the loneliness in Yaan's aura and the acceptance that this was simply his life.

For some reason, the giant mohawk man's eyes widened, trembling and shaking, all thanks to the lonely gaze of a single young boy.

Yaan's eyes contained no malice, he emitted no bloodlust. It was as if he was so uninvested in this fight, that the fight could not get started. Nobody present had ever seen such a thing before. They all stared with wide eyes and rapt attention, closely watching on, but also curiously examining the effect this solemn aura had on the mohawk man.

"Aren't you going to attack?" Yaan asked. His voice was soft and slightly quiet. He sounded confused, as if he truly didn't understand why he wasn't being attacked…

As Yaan spoke, his words sent the mohawk man into an even deeper trance. The man's sense of danger suddenly kicked in, screaming at him with such overwhelming intensity that he leapt back again and again, until he almost fell over the edge of the podium!

"You…damnit, what trick is this?!"

Yaan stared forwards and blinked.

"Do you not want to fight?" Yaan suddenly asked.

Many people misinterpreted his words as taunting, or perhaps an offer of mercy. Only Zue Yin and the mohawk man himself understood that this was not the case.

They knew that he was earnestly asking this question. After watching his opponent flee so far back, he guessed that he wanted to quit the match.

Quitting was possible. You would lose your residences and your possessions, whilst you would be demoted to the 1st level and left there, homeless, to fend for yourself. Depending on the circumstances behind the surrender, the punishment might actually be much more severe than just this, though.

But in a situation like this…who knows what the punishment might entail, because this fight was far too unusual!

Slowly, the mohawk man walked forwards, releasing a menacing aura as his facial expression twisted into a ferocious state. With each step, he shattered more and more ground beneath his feet. His aura built up with each step, and before long, his blood thirst was so palpable that it caused the air itself tremble.

Before long, he was only ten feet away from Yaan. Bolts of lightning crackled between the spikes within his hair, before exploding outwards in an electrical storm. There were countless lightning bolts chaotically jumping around in every direction, and each bolt of lightning was overwhelmingly powerful, strong enough to kill almost anyone on the 3rd level!

Even those on the 6th level wouldn't choose to take this attack head on. They would keep their distance from the lightning, and they wouldn't dare to drop their guard for a single moment.

Yaan continued to stand still, silently watching the ferocious bolts of lightning, with a serene gaze and zero fighting intent.

With each step, another lightning bolt formed. With every step, each bolt thickened.

By the time he was standing before Yaan, the mohawk man was activating his full bloodline power, exuding his entire strength and emitting his full bloodlust.

Yaan slowly tilted his head back and looked up, then stared into the mohawk man's eyes.

Yaan understood that he was acting strangely. However, he felt the desire to follow his strange mood, this emotion which had sprouted within his heart after witnessing those illusions. He felt that if he pursued this feeling, he might come to understand something.

But aside from that, right now, Yaan did not feel a single trace of danger. He trusted his instincts more than anything else, and right now, his instincts were telling him that he did not need to move.

Violent lightning raged about in random directions. It was so powerful that even the source of this lightning himself could not control the bolts properly.

Then without warning, one bolt suddenly shot straight towards Yaan!

In the next moment, the lightning completely vanished.

"No way…" The mohawk man took multiple steps back. His lightning vanished, his bloodlust was hidden and he stumbled back for multiple steps. He stared at Yaan with shock and fear, but Yaan simply looked back at him with a dreamy gaze.

"…I admit defeat in this match."

The mohawk's words stunned the audience, making them break out in chatter and discussion. However, as a booming voice echoed down from the skies, instantly forcing the mohawk man down to his knees, everyone became silent.

"Why have you admitted defeat, without attacking or being attacked even once?"

The pressure created by the voice forced everyone to lower their heads. Nobody knew the source of this voice which occasionally came down from above, but nobody dared to move a muscle when this terrifying presence swept past them.

The mohawk man, feeling like he had been disgraced enough as it was, grit his teeth, pushing himself painfully up from the ground. He resisted the growing pressure as creaking and cracking sounds exploded throughout his body. Blood poured from his nose and ears, but he ignored this, instead staring up and clasping his hands before shouting back at the skies.

"Firstly, I am not close to this boy's match! My defeat is guaranteed, regardless of my actions…"

"And?" The voice boom out again.

The mohawk man slowly turned towards Yaan with a complex expression. Yaan was staring up at the sky dazedly, but his daze was not one of shock or fear…

He could sense the immense pressure weighing down on him from above, yet somehow, he was able to treat this pressure like a spring breeze, allowing it to blow past him without affecting him in the least. It was as if he had simply chosen not to be affected by the pressure, and for a moment, this left him feeling dazed.

His eyes were slightly glazed over, before returning to normal after a few moments.

Yaan then looked away from the sky, towards mohawk man.

Seeing that look of Yaan's, the mohawk man laughed out loud. He drew some shocked stares, but he couldn't help himself…today had just been too strange. It wasn't just Yaan, even he himself was acting oddly.

"I'm sure that lord must have noticed it…I lost control of my bloodline's lightning ability, but right as it was about to strike Yaan…the lightning bolt hesitate. And throughout all of this, Yaan did not even flinch. It was as if…he looked into the lightning, and the lightning looked back into him. Lord, despite how absurd it may sound, I am certain of this…the essence of my bloodline saw something in Yaan's gaze that it did not wish to strike down."

There was a long period of silence, during which time, the mohawk man became increasingly worried. Just as he was starting to panic, worried that he would be executed for his surrender, he flinched as he felt a small hand tug his sleeve.

He turned and stared at Yaan dazedly, no sure what this strange guy was doing now.

"What's your name?" Yaan asked seriously.

"Huh…?" The mohawk man stared at him blankly. When he realised that Yaan was being serious, he burst into laughter.

"Hahaha! Did you not even read the headboard registry?"

Yaan lightly shook his head.

"I just asked for the strongest. But now, I'd like to know your name."

The mohawk man stared at Yaan for a good while longer, before shaking his head and chuckling.

"Bluebolt. Bluebolt of the Qilin Clan."

"Your name is fitting." Yaan smiled. He then suddenly turned around, looked up at the skies and scoured his eyes for a few seconds, before finally settling again on a specific location.

He couldn't be certain, and even though the skies were grey and blurred, he felt like the pressure which had descended upon the podium originated from that location.

"Since the battle is over, I would like for Bluebolt to live." He also didn't speak very loudly, yet his voice, which possessed an illusory quality, carried all the way up towards the foggy sky.

"Why should a betrayer of the rules be allowed to continue living?" The shocking voice boomed back, making everyone but Yaan tremble.

"Because…I want him to live."

Even Yaan felt strange hearing these words come from his mouth. He was not the type to stick his neck out for others. He didn't even know this man.

He couldn't even say that he cared about Bluebolt.

However…for once, he wanted to save someone.

For once…he wanted to save life, rather than taking it.

For once, he wanted something to go his way.

There was no response from above, and at this point, Bluebolt's breathing became heavy. When Yaan saw this, he couldn't help but chuckle as he reached a certain understanding.

Feeling frustrated, Bluebolt glared at him.

"What's so funny?!"

A strange look manifested within Yaan's eyes, as if countless illusory threads and chains had joined together, sprouting, fusing, connecting, ending, and beginning again.

As Yaan smiled with a strange gaze, he left Bluebolt with a line that would linger on the mohawk man's mind for many nights after he was transported away from here with his life intact.

"Bluebolt, there was no chance of you dying here today…"