The setting sun cast long shadows across the arena, bathing it in hues of gold and crimson. Thousands of spectators watched from platforms encircling the arena. The atmosphere buzzed with anticipation as the match was announced.
Begin.
Yang Ling wasted no time. With a flick of his wrist, the shadows around him surged forward, snaking across the arena like black vipers. The light from the sunset seemed to dim as his dark energy filled the space.
Xiu Luo stood still, his head tilting slightly as he felt the disturbance in the air. His spiritual senses extended outward, mapping every movement of the shadows. As the first tendril lashed out, he unsheathed his sword in one swift motion, slicing through the attacks with precision.
The shadow dissipated into wisps of black smoke. Yang Ling's lips curled into a smirk. "You are good compared to your fellow Sect members even though you can't see."