Jianghu emergency

A flash of lightning accompanied the unsheathing of a blade, slicing through a grotesque tomb beast. Its massive, stone-like body collapsed to the ground.

The purple-haired girl sheathed her katana, her expression as impassive as ever.

Without pausing, she stepped over the corpse, silver light flowing into her identity token.

Unfazed by the points, she dispatched enemies with mechanical precision, while a group of timid candidates trailed behind her.

“Big Bro, are we really just gonna keep following her?” a brown-haired, horse-faced boy whispered, tugging at the black-clad youth leading the group.

“Didn’t you see? She’s insanely strong. We just stick behind her, pick up stray treasures, and rack up points without lifting a finger,” the burly black-clad boy replied confidently.

“Free lunch doesn’t fall from the sky every day,” the horse-faced boy muttered.

“But we’ve already got enough treasures. If we cash them in, we’d all pass. Why keep following? And…” He glanced nervously at the solitary figure ahead, swallowing hard. “She’s too strong. What if she gets annoyed with us tailing her and slices us up?”

“She won’t. If she minded, she’d have dealt with us at the tomb’s entrance. And points? Who ever has enough? The more you get, the higher your rank, the better the rewards,” the black-clad boy said, rubbing his hands eagerly.

He coveted the top-ten rewards, especially the chance to have a senior mentor for a semester.

“Imagine picking a top-ranked beauty from the leaderboard for one-on-one guidance. A whole semester to get close, maybe even fall in love. With my looks and charm, it’s a sure thing. But who to choose?”

The gentle, refined student council president? The aloof, sacred Silver Dragon Saintess? Or perhaps the empire’s princess, with her breathtaking beauty? He was already lost in his fantasies, picking his future muse.

Fantasy aside, he stayed focused, trailing the lightning-wielding girl.

None of them dared enter the tomb without her. The ancient, desolate ruins in the desert were intimidating—only the safety of their tokens gave them courage to venture in.

Many candidates had faltered, collapsing from dehydration or exhaustion, eliminated if no one intervened.

Sensing the group behind her, the purple-haired girl, Leia, halted abruptly.

The trailing candidates froze, holding their breath, fearing her wrath. She turned, her violet eyes calm but cold.

“Stop following me. The path ahead isn’t for you. Leave now if you don’t want to be eliminated.”

Her voice was as emotionless as her expression, her sheathed katana faintly crackling with electricity.

The black-clad boy mustered his courage. “No, no, we won’t cause trouble! You do your thing, and we’ll just quietly follow…”

Her beauty rivaled Tianqi Academy’s renowned seniors, but her oppressive aura made her unapproachable.

They’d seen her power—Bruka, the arrogant marquis’s son, had crossed her, only to have his dozen defensive artifacts shredded by a single lightning-charged slash.

Those artifacts, worth a small city, were paper before her blade.

Her katana’s glowing reputation—having obliterated seventeen artifacts—kept them in awe. None dared test if their bodies were tougher.

“Just respect her and stay polite. She won’t bother with small fry like us,” the black-clad boy whispered, hoping her temper wasn’t petty.

“I’ve said my piece. Follow at your own risk,” Leia said tersely, turning to delve deeper into the tomb. The group hesitated, exchanging glances, but the black-clad boy led them onward, banking on her strength to shield them.

Leia closed her eyes, sensing sixty-seven presences behind her—five fewer than before.

Some had heeded her warning. The rest were on their own. She pressed forward, the tomb’s eternal torches flickering, as if welcoming a destined visitor.

Her steps led to a massive stone door, etched with strange symbols.

Her calm facade wavered, a flicker of emotion breaking through.

“Seth… I’ve found you…” she murmured, reaching out to touch the door.

Behind her, the candidates whispered. “A stone door here?” “Those symbols are weird. Does she know them?” “This place feels creepy. Should we leave?” “Nonsense! What if there’s treasure behind it? Leaving now would be a loss!”

Their chatter didn’t distract Leia.

Her fingers traced the rough, ancient stone, seeking something. Finding a groove, she triggered a mechanism.

The door trembled, sand and debris falling from above. The torches flickered wildly, and the candidates grew uneasy, but Leia’s gaze remained steady.

Thump… thump…

A heartbeat-like sound echoed, growing louder as the door creaked open.

An oppressive aura seeped out, suffocating the group. Sweat beaded on their foreheads, fear gripping them.

The presence beyond the door felt monstrous, its mere breath overwhelming.

“What’s behind that door? Why isn’t she affected? How does she know this place?” the black-clad boy rasped, eyes bloodshot, regretting his greed. Following a monster like her meant facing something even worse.

“Stupid! I knew she was trouble, yet I followed her!” he roared, voice trembling with soul-deep fear.

The air carried a decayed, ancient scent. “Whatever’s in there isn’t good. Run, now!”

His judgment was sound but late. “Big Bro, we can’t move!” the others cried. The oppressive force pinned most of them, some already unconscious. Escape was impossible.

Despair loomed as they braced for elimination—or worse.

Then, Leia moved. Amid the howling wind, her eyes blazed, and she half-drew her katana.

Boom!

Purple lightning arced like a mad serpent, countering the decayed aura. The pressure on the group eased, giving them a chance.

“Run now!” Leia barked.

The black-clad boy reacted first, rallying the others.

“Everyone, move! Carry the unconscious if you can!” The group united, dragging their fainted comrades away as the door fully opened.

Leia’s face showed rare focus. The sandstorm’s decayed aura eroded her power, each grain of sand like a ravenous ant, devouring her energy.

With the group fleeing, all pressure fell on her.

Her hands, bound by the storm’s force, struggled to fully draw her blade.

Sand enveloped her, forming a cocoon. She needed a way out, or—

Clang!

A clear blade’s cry drowned the wind.

A silver slash shattered the sand cocoon, and a fragrant figure landed beside her, black hair dancing in the storm. Dual-wielding daggers, she smiled brightly.

“Need help, classmate? This looks tough for one person.”

Before Leia could respond, the newcomer—Selina—spun, her daggers weaving a net of slashes.

High-Tier Blade Art: Tempest Dance sliced through the sandstorm, breaking its hold.