73: Chapter 73 The Champion!
Lin Fan knelt on one knee on the arena, his heavy breathing rising and falling in his chest.
His left arm hung limp, like a puppet with cut strings, while a thin layer of ice covered his right leg, the cold seeping through the fabric and into his bones.
That was the mark left by the Ice Feather Blade grazing him earlier.
His clothes were long since soaked in blood; his chest, shoulders, and back were crisscrossed with wounds, numbering no fewer than ten at a rough count.
The Qi in his body was exhausted, leaving only a shallow layer remaining.
Five meters away, Ye Wushuang stood quietly.
His breathing was steady. Although there were over a dozen small wounds on his body, each one had only broken the skin, and the blood had already coagulated.
He raised his right hand, and a halo of ice-blue light slowly gathered in his palm.
Ice Phoenix Grip.
The phantom of a Phoenix formed from ice crystals appeared once again, hovering above his palm, its wings slightly spread, cold light flowing across it.
With a gentle push, this Ice Phoenix would pounce toward Lin Fan—in Lin Fan's current state, it was impossible for him to dodge.
Ye Wushuang's gaze fell on Lin Fan's lowered head, a trace of complex emotion flashing in his eyes.
"Lin Fan, you are very strong."
He paused, his voice betraying neither joy nor anger. "But it is a pity."
Lin Fan did not respond; his shoulders merely trembled slightly, as if even breathing had become a struggle.
Ye Wushuang hesitated no longer and pushed his right hand forward.
The Ice Phoenix let out a long cry, spread its wings, and flew out, lunging straight at Lin Fan!
Five meters, three meters, one meter...
The sharp claws formed of ice crystals were already closing in on Lin Fan's shoulder, the cold air almost piercing his skin.
At that very instant, Lin Fan suddenly raised his head.
His face was covered in blood, his hair matted messily against his forehead, looking extremely disheveled.
Yet, the corners of his mouth curved into a clear arc.
The smile was faint, but it made Ye Wushuang's heart sink abruptly.
"Three."
Lin Fan said softly.
Ye Wushuang was taken aback.
"Two."
Lin Fan continued the countdown, his tone chillingly calm.
The Ice Phoenix's claws were less than ten centimeters from his shoulder, the chill biting.
"One."
The moment the word fell, Ye Wushuang's body suddenly froze.
The Ice Phoenix disintegrated with a boom half a meter in front of him, turning into a sky full of ice shards that drifted down onto Lin Fan like a sudden frost.
Ye Wushuang's pupils contracted.
He wanted to move, but his body felt as if it no longer belonged to him; he couldn't even lift a single finger.
"This... how is this possible?"
He lowered his head to look at his body.
Arms, shoulders, chest, cheeks... those dozen or so small wounds were now glowing with a faint, dark purple halo.
It was poison.
But those wounds were clearly so shallow, so shallow that they had barely bled, and he hadn't even paid attention to the pain.
But now, every tiny wound was releasing a numbing power, strand by strand, spreading quietly.
One or two might not have mattered, but with over a dozen combined...
Ye Wushuang jerked his head up to look at Lin Fan.
Lin Fan was using one hand to support himself on the ground, slowly standing up.
He was covered in blood and his steps were staggering, but the smile on his face grew brighter, like sunlight breaking through dark clouds.
"Ye Wushuang,"
He panted, but his voice held a smile. "Did you forget that every one of my attacks carries poison?"
Ye Wushuang was silent for a second.
"But those wounds... were so small."
"Yes, very small."
Lin Fan nodded, casually wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth.
"So small that you didn't even notice. I only injected a tiny bit of poison each time, and the freezing sensation from your ice-type Armor Spirit numbed your pain... You couldn't feel the poison spreading quietly at all."
He spread his blood-stained palm, his smile deepening.
"The freezing effect of your ice element is your advantage; it allows you to ignore minor pain. But you didn't expect that this advantage—would instead become the best breeding ground for my poison."
Ye Wushuang was stunned.
He gazed at Lin Fan, remaining silent for a long time. The noise around the arena seemed to fade away at this moment, leaving only the silent standoff between the two.
"You... were plotting against me from the very beginning?" Ye Wushuang finally spoke, his voice low and slow.
Lin Fan shook his head.
"I didn't plan that far ahead at the start. But as we fought, I noticed that every time you were scratched by me, you didn't care at all, not taking these small wounds seriously. I thought, since you don't care... then I'll just leave a few more."
He pointed to the wounds all over his body and gave a bitter smile.
"To get those extra scratches in, I took quite a beating."
Ye Wushuang stared at him, the scrutiny in his gaze gradually turning into genuine admiration.
"From the very beginning, you never intended to beat me head-on."
"I couldn't beat you head-on," Lin Fan admitted frankly, "so I had to think of some 'Evil Path' tricks."
Ye Wushuang was silent for another few seconds.
He tried to mobilize his Qi, but the poison had already flowed through his entire body with his blood, and he couldn't even twitch his fingertips.
He raised his eyes to look at Lin Fan.
"You win."
Lin Fan smiled, stepped forward, and extended his blood-stained hand.
Ye Wushuang looked at that hand, paused for a moment, and then took it.
Lin Fan pulled hard, lifting him from his rigid state.
The moment their fingers touched, the poison hidden in Ye Wushuang's wounds seemed to be drawn out, quietly flowing back and entering Lin Fan's body through his fingertips.
The numbness in Ye Wushuang's body receded like a tide, and strength gathered in his limbs once again.
The two stood facing each other, both covered in wounds and in a sorry state.
The referee was stunned for two seconds off the stage before suddenly snapping back to reality and raising his right hand high.
"The champion of this tournament—Lin Fan Team!"
Deafening cheers erupted instantly from the stands.
Lin Fan stood in the center of the arena and looked down.
Xu Ziyan was lying on his back on the ground, covered in blood, but he was grinning like a fool.
Su Xiaoxiao's back was charred black, and she was grimacing in pain, but she still managed to give a thumbs up.
Sun Wei was lying prone on the ground, unable to lift his head, but he just waved his hand foolishly.
Qin Ling leaned against the edge of the stage, looking up at him, the corners of her mouth curling into a faint, gentle arc.
Ye Wushuang stood beside Lin Fan, following his gaze.
"You have very good teammates."
Lin Fan nodded.
"I know."
Ye Wushuang turned his face to look at him.
"Next time, I won't give you such an opportunity again."
Lin Fan laughed, his eyes shining.
"Then you'll have to work harder..."
Ye Wushuang raised an eyebrow, said nothing more, turned, and leaped off the arena, his silhouette remaining upright.
Lin Fan stood alone in the center of the arena, moving his gaze from Ye Wushuang's retreating figure back to his teammates.
He raised his right hand and waved it vigorously toward the stage, his voice piercing through the deafening noise.
"Haha, we won!"
At this moment, victory belonged to the wounds, and it also belonged to each and every one of them!