The two combatants were now evenly matched, exchanging blows that left both bloodied and breathless. Each clash sent shockwaves through the arena, wind and light colliding in bursts of fury and brilliance. But then, the tide shifted.
Phil's aura flared.
He cast Sky Fang Requiem, a forbidden technique that compressed his core and temporarily elevated his realm. The sky darkened. Wind qi surged. The arena trembled as space itself warped under the pressure.
At the same time, Lloyd activated Light Bell, restoring eighty percent of his vitality. His wounds closed. His qi stabilized. But even with his strength renewed, the gap between their realms widened.
Phil struck. Lloyd dodged. The clash was seismic—wind against light, fury against clarity. Yet Lloyd was pushed back with each exchange, suffering brutal blowbacks that chipped away at his stamina.
He cast Luminous Rift Slash, destabilizing Phil's footing. Then followed Flash Bloom Barrage—petals of light exploded around Phil, knocking him back but not doing any damage.
Phil roared, casting Wind Cage Collapse.
Lloyd countered with Thread Fusion, merging Piercing Ray Spiral energy and Solar Pulse into his Supreme Grade Light Saber. A radiant slash followed by a beam detonated Phil's saber arm—his dominant right, now mangled beyond use.
Phil screamed. His weapon fell.
Lloyd stood over him, saber humming, breath ragged.
But Phil's aura surged again, sharper than before. He cast Sky Fang Requiem a second time, wind qi compressing into a spiraling lance. The air itself screamed as the pressure bent space.
Lloyd, bleeding heavily—his shoulder torn, ribs cracked—braced himself. His breathing was shallow. His light qi flickered like a dying star. He summoned a scaled-down Radiant Bastion, a fragile dome of light meant to absorb the blow.
But it wasn't enough.
Phil's spiraling lance struck with divine fury, shattering the shield on impact.
Lloyd was hurled backward, his body a blur of blood and light. He crashed into the arena wall—stone ruptured, dust exploded, and blood sprayed from his mouth. He dropped to one knee, coughing violently, his saber trembling in his grip like a wounded beast.
From the viewing platform, Jaquan's eyes widened. He stepped forward instinctively, fists clenched.
"Lloyd…" he whispered, voice tight with fear.
Jalen raised a hand, stopping him. "Wait."
Jaquan turned, fury in his eyes. "He's bleeding out!"
Jalen didn't blink. "He's not done."
In the arena, Lloyd staggered to his feet. His vision blurred. His spirit core pulsed erratically. But his grip on the Supreme Saber didn't falter.
Phil laughed, cold and cruel. "You're finished."
He summoned another forbidden technique—Whirlwind Slash, a spiraling blade of compressed wind qi.
Lloyd didn't defend.
Instead, he closed his eyes.
And whispered, "Lightform Ascension."
The Supreme Saber pulsed once—then dissolved into radiant threads, merging with Lloyd's body. His skin shimmered. His wounds sealed. His form began to blur—not from speed, but from transformation.
He wasn't flesh anymore.
He was light.
Pure, radiant, untouchable.
Gasps echoed through the crowd. Elders leaned forward. Even Tavares's expression twisted in disbelief.
Lloyd moved—not with steps, but with pulses. His body shimmered, a streak of brilliance that defied space. In a blink, he reappeared behind Phil, light trailing like a comet's tail.
He cast Flash Bloom Barrage.
Petals of radiant qi burst around Phil—no longer mere distractions, but weapons of divine precision. Each bloom detonated with amplified force, tearing through his defenses and driving him backward.
This time, the damage was real. Severe.
Lloyd's lightform had transformed the technique from elegant to lethal. And Phil, once the predator, now staggered like prey caught in a storm of brilliance.
Then Luminous Rift Slash, a wide arc of light that threatened to cut Phil in two.
Phil dodged and then tried to cast Wind Cage Collapse, but Lloyd was already above him, descending like a comet.
He activated Thread Fusion, merging Solar Pulse and Piercing Ray Spiral into a single beam—channeled and amplified through his lightform body.
The blast struck, crashing into Phil's body. His core ruptured. He collapsed, coughing blood, his aura broken.
Lloyd hovered above him, glowing like a divine blade.
He raised the supreme-grade lightsaber—no longer forged of steel, but composed entirely of pure light qi. It didn't need a hilt or sheath; it simply materialized from his arm like a divine extension of will. Sharper than Luminal Edge, denser than starlight, it pulsed with judgment. And in that moment, it was clear—he wasn't lifting a weapon. He was preparing to end a legacy.
But then—
He stopped.
The blade hovered inches from Phil's throat. Lloyd's body trembled—not from exhaustion, but from rage. His breath hitched. His vision blurred—not from injury, but from memory.
Jaquan's words echoed in his mind.
"If you kill him, you'll lose more than your innocence. You'll lose yourself."
Lloyd's grip tightened. His light form flickered. He wanted to kill this man. He wanted to erase him from existence. But something deeper held him back.
He powered down.
Returned to his fleshly form.
Blood dripped from his lips. His body ached. But his eyes burned with clarity. The supreme-grade tool is now back to its physical form, held in hand.
"Do you remember the young mistress of the Ronaldson family?" Lloyd asked, voice low and steady. "The one you violated."
Phil, broken and bloodied, gnashed his teeth. He glared up at Lloyd, unable to rise, yet defiant in his disgrace.
"I am the product of that crime."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. But few were truly shocked. Elder Phil's name had long been shadowed by whispers—this only confirmed what many feared.
Phil sneered, voice laced with venom. "So you're that unwanted brat from that wretched woman." He had buried this truth long ago, never expecting it to rise again—let alone wield a blade above his throat.
"Yes," Lloyd said. "And when you learned I existed, you had my mother killed. You sent assassins after the man who raised me—the one who loved me. You butchered my siblings. You tried to kill me, your own flesh and blood. All to erase your shame."
His voice cracked, but his grip on the saber didn't.
"But I survived. I trained. I endured. And now here you are—beneath my sword."
Phil spat blood, eyes burning. "You should've died with that whore."
Lloyd's rage surged. He lowered the saber to Phil's throat—but didn't strike.
"I want to kill you," he whispered, tears welling. "More than anything."
Phil smirked through the pain. "Then do it. End me."
Lloyd's hand trembled. But then, slowly, he withdrew the blade. It dissolved into light and re-entered his body like a sword returning to its sheath.
"No," he said. "I won't."
Phil scoffed, voice brittle. "Pathetic."
Lloyd didn't flinch.
Instead, he summoned luminal edge—and with a single motion, severed Phil's legs and his fractured left arm—the only limb he had left. Then, with surgical precision, he shattered Phil's dantian and core.
Phil screamed as pain tore through him. A cultivator's worst fate—crippled, powerless, broken.
"Kill me, you coward!" He howled.
But Lloyd didn't look back.
He flew toward the viewing platform, his body swaying. Jaquan and Jalen rushed to meet him.
Lloyd collapsed midair.
Jaquan caught him, cradling him in his arms.
Lloyd screamed—raw, guttural, broken. Tears streamed down his cheeks as the weight of vengeance, grief, and survival crashed over him.
"It's okay, son," Jaquan whispered, holding him close. "I've got you."
Jalen stepped forward, eyes solemn. He activated Flare of Recursion, folding space around them.
In a blink, they vanished from the arena.
Only then did the Sabre Sect breathe again.