Wait, How Did My Digital Girlfriend Become a Sword Immortal? Chapter 853: Black Ring - Cloud and Rainbow Without Form

Chapter 853: Black Ring - Cloud and Rainbow Without Form

"How utterly pathetic!"

A look of revulsion crossed Xiao Shihao's face as he glared at Xiao Yanyao, who was currently wailing on the ground like a commoner lost in a tantrum.

Honestly, a loss is a loss; just accept the outcome! Why carry on like a squawking chicken? Even if the Xiao Family struggles with the concept of defeat, rolling around in the dirt is simply beneath dignity.

"Once he returns, mandate three days in solitary confinement!" Xiao Shihao muttered with a frigid snort.

He then shifted his gaze toward the girl standing regally upon the platform, his eyes alight with a strange, predatory intensity. The sheer power Li Qingran displayed only fueled his desire to possess her.

The more difficult a conquest, the more rewarding the victory. He had grown bored of the sycophants constantly clinging to him—no matter their beauty or potential, they were essentially rubbish in his eyes. Only Li Qingran, who ignored his advances and wielded such formidable strength, was truly worthy of a partner to the Xiao Family's Young Master.

Her victory over Xiao Yanyao was inconsequential to him; he felt no urgency. He had already set a plan in motion with the Xiahou Family, and the true game had only just unfolded.

What Xiao Shihao failed to realize was that he and the Xiahou clan were being scrutinized. From the shadows of the stands, Pope Bixixi—shrouded in heavy bandages—watched every move with clinical precision.

"They have swapped the referee..." Bixixi observed the Xiahou Battle Saint on the platform with eyes as cold as ancient ice.

She had explicitly left the oversight of the tournament to Feng Wuyu. Because he held no ties to any specific faction, his neutral status made him the only acceptable candidate to handle such a public event.

If Feng Wuyu was nowhere to be found, it could only mean he had been forcibly sidelined. As for the culprits, one only had to look at the lineage of the new referee to find the answer.

"Such staggering audacity!" Bixixi whispered, her voice laced with venom. "These clans are growing increasingly insatiable. The Battle Soul Academy is a sacred pillar of our city; it is meant to be inviolable. To deploy such cowardly tactics and manipulate the competition from within highlights exactly how bloated their arrogance has become."

A murderous aura flickered within her, though she maintained her composure. She needed to observe how deep this rot went. Every family involved would be marked, and soon, she would decide whether to prune them one by one or excise the lot of them in a single stroke.

Per the regulations, after a participant defended a match, they were entitled to one hour of rest and support from recovery-type Soul Masters. However, in Li Qingran's case, that grace period was entirely ignored.

In fact, the moment the referee announced her victory, the Xiahou Battle Saint immediately declared: "Arena One, second match, five minutes until commencement. Prepare yourselves!"

The observers were thrown into a state of bewilderment.

"Wait, didn't they promise an hour of rest?"

"Maybe the referee assumes that because she won so quickly, she doesn't need to recover?"

"Is that even in the rulebook? These regulations are supposed to be universal."

As the crowd buzzed with confusion, the Xiahou Battle Saint merely stared ahead, feigning ignorance of their complaints.

Li Qingran barely glanced at the saint. She didn't care about the blatant rule-breaking—she had barely exerted any energy. If they wanted to tear down the veneer of fairness, she would let them, provided the students saw the moral bankruptcy of these families for themselves.

"Arena One, second match. Challenger: 43rd-level Battle Ancestor, Xiahou Ji!"

Watching through the Canglan Mirror, Chen Huaian couldn't help but chuckle. The name itself sounded like a bad omen for the challenger.

The announcement sent a shockwave through the spectators.

"Another Battle Ancestor? Is this really a coincidence?"

"This is rigged! How are the strongest fighters all suddenly fixated on her arena?"

"Look closely at who is sitting with Xiahou Yuan," someone pointed out.

The realization rippled through the stands. Su Luyao was lounging in Xiahou Yuan's arms, casting hateful glares at Li Qingran, while Xiahou Yuan leered at her with a sick, possessive expression.

The motive was transparent: Su Luyao was nursing a grudge from her loss and had coerced her suitor into intervening. By replacing the neutral Vice Dean with a lackey from his own family, they had effectively turned the arena into a trap.

"The entire tournament is being dragged through the mud because of these people!"

"They hold the common students in such contempt that they’ve turned a prestigious event into a farce!"

Li Qingran, like most students, had no powerful familial backing, making her an easy target for these arrogant scions. Watching the injustice unfold, the onlookers felt a sympathetic fury.

Xiahou Ji walked onto the stage, a facade of politeness etched onto his face. As he stepped forward, he summoned his four World Rings—yellow, yellow, purple, and a final purple-black ring that hummed with a dark, unusual energy.

"Junior Sister Qingran, I am merely following orders and have no choice. Do forgive me for what comes next."

He was a senior, so the title was technically appropriate. Li Qingran offered a polite, formal salute in return.

However, before the referee had even signaled the start of the battle, Xiahou Ji’s first World Ring flared.

"First Battle Technique, Soul Refining Chains!" He grinned with predatory delight, lunging forward with a grasping strike.

A glowing, mirror-like surface of molten fire manifested beneath Li Qingran's feet. Suddenly, a dozen flaming chains erupted from the ground, lashing out like vipers to bind her.

Caught in the middle of her salute, Li Qingran had yet to manifest her own rings. A less experienced fighter would have been trapped, forced to endure a lethal barrage from Xiahou Ji.

"That’s a sneak attack!"

"An elite disciple of the Xiahou Family resorted to such dishonor?"

The crowd recoiled in shock. Even Bixixi held her breath. It seemed as though the chains had completely hemmed Li Qingran in, leaving her no room for evasion.

Then, a single black World Ring pulsed beneath her feet.

A violent surge of sword intent shattered the platform, the ground cracking outward from where she stood. Xiahou Ji’s expression warped into shock, and he scrambled backward, barely avoiding the shockwave.

When he looked up, the space where Li Qingran had been standing was empty, save for a lingering, dissipating mist. She had completely vanished.

Where was she? A sudden, freezing sensation crept up his spine, straight to the nape of his neck.

A clear, cold voice whispered right behind him: "Third Battle Technique, Mist Formed from Rainbow Clouds!"