MY HIDDEN TALENT IS FORBIDDEN BY THE HEAVENS-Chapter 64: DIVINITY DESCENDS
Chapter 64 — DIVINITY DESCENDS
The arena did not explode.
It collapsed inward.
That was the first sensation.
Not sound. Not light.
Pressure.
An invisible force pressed down on every cultivator in the arena, forcing breaths shorter, movements heavier, instincts sharper.
Three figures stood at the heart of Vermilion Phoenix Academy’s formation.
Rong Yueran did not move.
She didn’t need to.
Behind her, two divine auras unfolded like wings of judgment.
Shen Tianyi stepped forward first.
His eyes burned gold-red, veins of molten light pulsing beneath his skin. Every breath he took released heat dense enough to distort space.
"Epic-tier opponents should not stand this close to divinity."" he said calmly, voice carrying without effort.
He raised his hand.
The sky above the arena darkened—then ignited.
DIVINE SKYFIRE DESCENT
A pillar of skyfire slammed downward.
Not targeted.
Not refined.
Just overwhelming.
Jin Roulan moved instantly.
Her blade flashed, aura surging as she slashed upward, carving a crescent of steel and wind meant to split the descending fire.
It lasted half a second.
The skyfire swallowed her attack whole.
The impact hurled her backward like a broken doll, armor scorching, blood spraying as she smashed into Qin Shuo’s hastily erected barrier.
"JIN!" Qin shouted.
He slammed both palms into the ground.
Formations erupted—layered, interlocking, desperately stabilizing the shattered space.
The barrier cracked anyway.
Zhao Lanyue barely had time to pull Jin clear before the remaining heat detonated.
Han Duwei cursed loudly, flames bursting from his fists as he charged forward.
"I don’t care if you’re divine—!"
Shen Tianyi turned his head slightly.
That was all.
The pressure slammed into Han Duwei like a mountain.
His body folded mid-charge, knees smashing into the arena floor, blood bursting from his mouth as if gravity itself had turned hostile.
"Han—!" Wang Junxie shouted.
Liang Huoyan moved.
She didn’t walk.
She appeared.
Ashen-red flames wrapped around her like silk as she passed through the battlefield, her hand brushing casually across Wang Junxie’s shoulder.
There was no explosion.
No dramatic strike.
Just a soft sound.
Fffsh.
Wang Junxie collapsed.
His spiritual circulation shut down instantly, divine fire severing his meridians with surgical precision.
He didn’t scream.
That was worse.
The audience gasped.
"This—this isn’t a fight!"
"They’re being erased!"
Ouyang Xue’er stepped forward.
Her eyes were calm, but her jaw was tight.
She raised both hands.
❄ ABSOLUTE FROST DOMAIN — PARTIAL RELEASE
Cold surged outward, not attacking—but overwriting.
Skyfire dimmed.
Ashen flames slowed.
The arena temperature dropped violently, steam exploding as opposing elements clashed.
She wasn’t trying to win.
She was buying time.
"Fall back!" she commanded. "Stay within the frost!"
Qin Shuo dragged Jin Roulan deeper into formation cover, teeth clenched as he forced shields into place faster than they should have been possible.
"This pressure—!" he hissed. "My formations won’t hold long!"
Bai Qianlan’s illusions spread outward, fracturing sightlines, duplicating injured figures, creating false movements.
But even as she worked, her eyes kept darting—
Toward Chen.
Chen stood at the front.
Feet planted.
Fists clenched.
And yet—
He did not advance.
Rong Yueran finally turned her gaze toward him.
Not hostile.
Not mocking.
Just... observant.
"So," she said softly, her voice carrying across the battlefield, "you’re still the vanguard."
Chen’s throat bobbed.
"...Yeah."
Her lips curved slightly.
"You don’t look ready to face me."
The words struck harder than any flame.
Chen didn’t answer.
Bai Qianlan’s illusion flickered for a fraction of a second.
She saw it.
The hesitation.
She snapped her head toward him.
"Chen!" she shouted. "What are you doing?!"
Another explosion rocked the arena.
Shen Tianyi unleashed a second wave of skyfire, tearing through Qin Shuo’s outer formation like wet paper.
Liang Huoyan followed, her flames slicing through defenses, forcing Zhao Lanyue to drag the unconscious Wang Junxie clear.
Bai clenched her fists.
"They’re getting slaughtered!" she yelled. "You’re the captain—move!"
Chen’s jaw tightened.
"I know," he growled.
"Then fight her!" Bai screamed.
Rong Yueran tilted her head slightly.
As if listening.
At the far side of the arena, pressure surged.
Seven Epic-tier members of Vermilion Phoenix Academy broke formation at once, abandoning coordination in favor of overwhelming force. They spread instinctively—two rushing the front, three angling for Ling Yifan’s blind spots, the remaining pair preparing ranged suppression techniques.
They had identified him correctly.
The spear wielder was the hinge of Azure Dragon’s resistance.
Ling Yifan stepped forward to meet them.
He did not wait for them to surround him.
His spear lowered slightly, tip aligned with the ground, body angled just enough to keep all seven within his field of vision. His breathing slowed, heartbeat steady despite the blood soaking into his side.
One of the Vermilion elites scoffed."Seven against one? You’re brave."
Ling Yifan did not answer.
He moved.
The first attacker lunged, blade glowing with condensed flame-qi meant to burn through armor on contact. Ling Yifan shifted half a step to the side, spear flicking upward with surgical precision.
The strike never landed.
The spearhead pierced the gap beneath the man’s arm, slipping past protection and puncturing clean through the rib cage. The Vermilion disciple froze, shock registering a heartbeat before his legs gave out and he collapsed.
Two more came in immediately, one high, one low.
Ling Yifan rotated his grip and drove the spear butt downward, cracking into the knee of the lower attacker. Bone shattered. Before the scream could form, the spear swept horizontally, smashing into the second man’s jaw and sending him spinning across the stone.
The remaining four reacted faster.
Flame nets spread across the air. Blades of compressed heat rained downward. One cultivator leapt high, trying to strike from above while another chanted rapidly, forming a sealing ring beneath Ling Yifan’s feet.
The ground froze.
Ouyang Xue’er’s eyes sharpened.
And responded to the threat even while protecting the team.
Her frost surged outward in response, intercepting the sealing ring mid-formation. Ice snapped into place, shattering the construct before it could lock.
"Don’t let them box him in," she said calmly, even as sweat beaded at her temples.
At the same time, Long Hao moved.
No dramatic entrance.
The shadows around Ling Yifan thickened unnaturally as Long Hao slid into position behind him, movements quiet and deliberate. A Vermilion disciple never saw the strike coming—his technique collapsed as a blade of shadow severed the flow of qi at its source.
He fell without a sound.
Ling Yifan felt it immediately.
Support.
He didn’t turn. He trusted it.
With the pressure eased for half a second, he advanced again.
His spear lashed out in a tight arc, deflecting a flame blade before driving straight through the shoulder of another Vermilion elite. The impact hurled the man backward into one of his allies, both crashing into the arena wall hard enough to leave fractures in the stone.
Only two remained now.
They hesitated.
That was their mistake.
Ling Yifan closed the distance in a single step, spear flashing like a streak of silver light. One was struck through the abdomen and dropped instantly. The last tried to retreat, panic flooding his aura.
A shadow coiled around his ankle.
Long Hao’s voice was calm, almost casual."Match’s not over yet."
The man fell forward, and Ling Yifan ended it with one precise strike to the chest, knocking him unconscious rather than killing him.
Seven elites.
Neutralized.
Ling Yifan stood still for a moment, spear grounded, chest rising and falling more heavily now. Blood seeped steadily from beneath his armor, but his posture remained upright.
Ouyang’s frost spread subtly across the battlefield, forming a protective lattice that slowed incoming Vermilion pressure toward the rest of the Azure Dragon team.
Long Hao stepped to Ling Yifan’s side, eyes already scanning for the next threat.
"You good?" he asked quietly.
Ling Yifan nodded once."Enough."
Ling Yifan exhaled slowly.
Blood dripped from his ribs.
His stance wavered for a fraction of a second—
Then he straightened again.
He turned back toward the battlefield.
Toward the chaos.
Toward his team being crushed.
And toward Chen—
Who still hadn’t moved.
Though the otherside -
Had a different story to tell.
Ouyang Xue’er’s frost cracked.
Qin Shuo’s formation bled energy at a terrifying rate.
Jin Roulan stirred weakly, trying to stand despite scorched lungs.
Han Duwei coughed blood, laughing weakly.
"Damn... divine hurts..."
Bai Qianlan’s voice trembled—not with fear, but fury.
"Chen," she said, quieter now. "If you don’t move... we lose."
Rong Yueran stepped forward.
One step.
The pressure doubled.
She stopped directly opposite Chen.
"Are you not gonna fight me, at all?" she asked gently.
Chen’s eyes widened—just slightly.
The audience leaned forward.
Ling Yifan felt it.
Something snapped into place.
"...Chen," he muttered. "What is she to you?"
Chen didn’t answer.
Rong Yueran smiled faintly.
"Still hesitating," she said. "That won’t protect them."
She raised her hand.
Flame gathered.
Not released yet.
Bai’s nails dug into her palms.
"JUST START FIGHTING!" she screamed.
The arena trembled.
And for the first time—
Chen Wulian took a step forward.
Not toward Rong Yueran.
But toward himself.
Whatever he was holding back—
The battlefield was about to find out.
[Chapter ENDS]
