The day before the grand finals of the Dao Transformation tournament, a pleasant yet excited mood permeated the Yang-Dao Sect tournament stadium. The stadium, hundreds of miles long containing tens of thousands of stores, restaurants, entertainment venues and more were buzzing with activity. Despite the tens of millions of spectators attending the tournament, many who were at odds with spectators supporting those from rival sects, the Yang-Dao Stadium had yet to experience any sort of conflict outside of the arena itself.

That all changed in an instant.

Boom!

“John!” a unison cry of shock boomed from Zuri and Araxus, who were a step too late to help him. The hallway suddenly sprung to life as the sword image pierced into John’s chest, slamming against his ribcage. The sword image came to a sudden halt as John’s hands slammed inwards towards the sword-image blade, stopping it just shy of his heart thanks to his overwhelming strength and durability of his flesh and bones.

Blood spurted from his chest as he flew backwards from the power of the sword image. Cries of shock and panic rang out throughout the crowded hallway as he barreled over the unsuspecting crowd, knocking aside many as he flew backwards through the hallway.

Boom!

He slammed against a wall some distance away, coming to a brief and sudden stop. The wall exploded from the impact, while John slammed onto the ground below, landing on his feet, wobbling briefly before stabilizing himself. A wave of pure anger and bloodlust surged through John as he successfully defended against the surprise attack intending to claim his life. His head snapped up towards the source of the attack, a place shrouded in dark shadows several hundred yards away.

A line of destruction stretched forward for a hundred yards, from where he had encountered the attack to his current location. Hundreds of injured layed scattered about on either side of the wide hallway, many groaning in pain as they tried to comprehend what had happened.

“I’m fine! Go after the attacker!” John roared loudly as he noticed Araxus and Zuri speeding towards him.

Without missing a beat, both nodded and turned around, using their fastest movement to speed towards the place of the attack. John growled with anger and sped after them a moment later, opting to use his physical speed instead of his Lightning Shatters the Void. While incredibly fast, it was a powerful and destructive movement art, destroying the space near his entry point and exit point. With so many of the crowd, many greatly injured, nearby, he opted not to do so as using his movement art would surely cause more harm, and perhaps even result in several deaths. The hallways shook with a violent shockwave as he sped through it with incredible speed, appearing like a trailing blur to everyone. He arrived at the location of the attack a moment later, where both Zuri and Araxus stood, their heads looking around, their divine senses spread to their maximum range.

John spread his divine sense as well after finding nothing visually, then frowned deeply. Within his divine sense were tens of thousands of other cultivators, with hundreds strong enough to have made such an attack. With the sudden chaos of the attack, many were leaving and more were arriving by the second, making it impossible to track everyone’s movements.

“They’re gone. Fuck!” Araxus growled deeply, lightning crackling over his skin, his eyes still scanning in all directions. At the same time, Zuri used her control over the spatial Dao to search in her own way, but her deepening frown indicated to John that she had found nothing either.

“Are you okay?” she said after grunting with displeasure, turning to John to inspect his wounds. .𝒎

A large, six inch long wound was carved directly into his chest above his heart, with blood flowing out to the ground below. John kicked his healing limiters into action, which coupled with his natural healing rate thanks to his dragon and asura bloodlines, healed the wound in several seconds.

“I’m fine,” John replied flatly as the wound finally sealed itself, healing his damaged ribs as well.

Flash!

Flash!

Flash!

Several flashes of light appeared nearby a moment later, followed by the appearance of three familiar figures; The Yang-Sovereign, the Mage-Sovereign, and the Sword-Saint.

They quickly scanned the area, noticing its destruction, and then turned to John and the others with stern, questioning expressions. They then instantly noticed the dried blood on John’s chest, giving them insight into what happened.

“What happened here?” the Yang-Sovereign asked, a look of deep concern on his usually stoic face.

With his experience with the Yang-Sovereign, Araxus stepped forward and quickly explained the events. The frowns on the three powerhouses’ faces deepened as Araxus finished his story, while a look of anger appeared on the Yang-Sovereigns face.

“An attack on an honored guest within my own sect? This shame cannot be left to stand,” the Yang-Sovereign growled, flashing a quick look to the Sword-Saint before looking away. “What’s that look for?” the Sword-Saint instantly understood the meaning of that glance. “Do you think I would be stupid enough to call for an assassination of the Prime Shadow’s successor, using sword arts to do the deed?”

The Yang-Sovereign and Mage-Sovereign said nothing, their silence deafening within the destroyed hallway.

“Tch, do not insult me with these baseless accusations,” the Sword-Saint growled, clearly displeased by these silent accusations. “If I wanted this boy dead, he would be dead already. And I wouldn’t be dumb enough to use a sword cultivator to do the bidding.”

The Sword-Saint shot John a curious look, and studied the wound on his chest for a second before speaking to the Sovereigns once more.

“I do not recognize the lingering sword aura in his wound, so I can say with confidence that it is not someone from my Sword-Dao Sect,” he continued, then shot John a quick glance, his gaze firm. “Besides, I would never deny my son the opportunity to defeat this boy in the arena. My son’s glorious victory will not come at the hands of some underhanded assassination.”

Those final words seemed to be spoken true and from the heart, surprising even John with the sincerity he felt in them. He had immediately assumed this was the working of the Sword-Saint, but now had some doubts regarding that. While it was certainly possible the Sword-Saint was lying, from what John knew of the man so far, the Sword-Saint wore his emotions on his sleeves. For him to lie, and so convincingly at that, was out of character for the man. The softening looks on the Yang-Sovereign and Mage-Sovereign seemed to indicate they believed the Sword-Saint, who returned his gaze to John, his brows furrowed.

“Don’t you dare die before the finals tomorrow,” he said with a low growl. “You will not deny my son the opportunity to thoroughly defeat you in the arena. I will not have your death stain my reputation, or my son’s reputation.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” John replied with a firm voice and narrowed eyes. “I won’t be dying anytime soon.”

The Sword-Saint locked gazes with John for a moment, then looked back towards the Sovereigns. “I will look into this matter, as I’m sure you two will as well. If I find the one responsible, I will bring him to you for judgment.”

“Very well,” the Yang-Sovereign nodded, as did the Mage-Sovereign. The Sword-Saint then vanished, while the Sovereigns checked in on John and the others, before diverting their attention to the injured in the hallway. A group of Yang-Dao Sect healers appeared a short while later, healing those who had been caught up in the attack.

“Do you believe him?” Zuri asked John as she stepped next to him.

“For some reason, I do,” John nodded. “Everyone knows of my Dragon-God Shift by now. That attack was strong, but was definitely not strong enough to overwhelm me in my Dragon-God Shift state. Either the assassin thought I would be caught by surprise and not defend in time, or they expected me to defend against it.”

“Why would they attack you if they knew you could defend against it?” Araxus asked curiously. “Shouldn’t they have used a stronger cultivator to attack you then?”

“That’s what I’m wondering as well,” John replied with a thoughtful tone. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Whatever the reason, we should get you back to the Prime Shadow’s room for now. It’s not safe out here anymore,” Zuri said, to which John agreed. Uncaring of the social conventions of the arena, the group used their movement arts to speed through the stadium hallways, arriving in the room a short while later. As he arrived and stepped inside, a nagging thought appeared on John’s mind.

Where was the Prime Shadow?

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