MY HIDDEN TALENT IS FORBIDDEN BY THE HEAVENS-Chapter 96: WHEN ICE DECIDES AND THE SPEAR ANSWERS

Chapter 96 — WHEN ICE DECIDES AND THE SPEAR ANSWERS

The arena did not cheer immediately.

For a breath—just one—the Grand Arena of Vermillion Phoenix Academy held a stunned silence, as if the ground itself needed time to process what had just happened.

Chen Wulian lay beyond the boundary line, chest rising and falling in rough, uneven breaths, a grin still clinging stubbornly to his face despite the bruises already blooming across his arms and shoulders.

The formations flared red once more.

ELIMINATION CONFIRMED — CAPTAIN CHEN WULIAN, AZURE DRAGON ACADEMY.

The announcer’s voice cut cleanly through the hush.

"THE ELIMINATION IS CONFIRMED!"

And then—

The crowd erupted.

Some shouted in awe.Some groaned in disappointment.Some roared approval.

"DRAGON TURTLE CAPTAIN!"

"THAT CONTROL—!"

"CHEN FOUGHT LIKE A BEAST!"

High above, the Dragon Turtle Academy instructors rose almost as one.

The senior instructor slammed a hand down on the table, laughter booming through the chamber. "That’s it! That’s what we trained him for!"

Another clapped him on the shoulder. "Terrain dominance. Absolute suppression. Clean execution."

The Dragon Turtle dean leaned forward in his seat, arms crossed, grin wide enough to be seen even through the black glass.

"HAHA!" he boomed. "YOU HELD UP WELL, KID! BUT THE GROUND ALWAYS WINS!"

In the Vermillion instructors’ section, reactions were... complicated.

Rong Yueran stood near the railing, phoenix flames faintly flickering around her fingers before she forced them down. Her gaze followed Chen’s removal from the field, jaw tight.

"...He didn’t hesitate," she murmured. "Not even once."

A Vermillion strategist nodded grimly. "But Yue Hanran never gave him space."

Rong Yueran closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again.

The sadness didn’t linger.

It hardened.

"Good," she said quietly. "Then I know what kind of battlefield this is."

Back in the observation zone, Bai Qianlan’s fingers tightened around her staff.

"...Chen," she whispered.

Jin Ruolan slammed her hands on the railing. "DAMN IT! He almost had it!"

Qin Shuo adjusted his glasses, eyes fixed on Yue Hanran. "No. He never did. That wasn’t a clash. That was a lesson."

Ouyang Xue’er did not speak.

She was already moving.

The battlefield shifted subtly as Chen’s presence vanished.

Pressure redistributed.

Paths reopened.

Eyes turned.

Those who had been hesitating now sensed opportunity.

And those who had been dominant began to realize something else.

They were being measured.

Ouyang Xue’er stepped forward from her basin, boots crunching softly against frost that spread outward with each step. The air around her cooled, breath misting faintly even meters away.

She did not announce herself.

She did not rush.

She simply claimed temperature.

The shallow water channels near her position froze first, thin sheets of ice forming silently across the surface. Roots creeping through those channels stiffened, sap slowing, leaves dulling in color.

Luo Qinghe’s domain reacted immediately.

Vines thickened, reinforcing themselves, emerald light pulsing brighter as they resisted the encroaching cold.

But the ice did not attack.

It waited.

Ouyang lifted one hand.

The frost deepened.

Not explosively—decisively.

Cracks spiderwebbed across frozen surfaces as temperature plunged further, the moisture within plant fibers expanding just enough to weaken structure.

In the instructors’ chamber, a senior observer leaned forward sharply.

"She’s not freezing the domain," he said. "She’s destabilizing it."

Mei Ying’s eyes narrowed. "...She learned."

On the battlefield, a fighter from a minor academy made the mistake of charging toward Ouyang, sensing her focus elsewhere.

The ground beneath his feet crystallized instantly.

His momentum vanished.

His legs locked.

He barely had time to widen his eyes before Ouyang’s staff tapped the ice near his feet.

The frozen surface shattered outward.

The force lifted him cleanly off the ground and sent him skidding backward—straight across the boundary.

ELIMINATION CONFIRMED.

The crowd gasped.

"ICE CONTROL!"

"AZURE DRAGON!"

"THAT WASN’T EVEN A STRIKE!"

Ouyang did not look at the fallen fighter again.

Her gaze was fixed elsewhere.

Toward the densest cluster of pressure.

Toward the place where domain forces overlapped.

Luo Qinghe felt it.

For the first time since he activated Verdant Sovereign’s Embrace, he turned his head fully toward Ouyang Xue’er.

"...Cold that precise," he murmured. "You’re not improvising."

The vines near Ouyang’s zone stiffened further, growth slowing as frost crept along their surfaces.

Yue Hanran noticed too.

The ground near Ouyang’s position grew brittle, stone contracting under sudden temperature shifts. His manifestation adjusted instinctively, reinforcing terrain—but even reinforced earth disliked rapid cold.

"Interesting," Yue Hanran said softly.

Several fighters began retreating instinctively, unwilling to be caught between ice, plant, and ground.

That was when Ling Yifan moved again.

Not abruptly.

Not explosively.

He walked.

The spear rested loosely in his hand, its tip tracing a shallow line across the stone as he advanced. His posture was relaxed, but the air around him felt... sharpened.

A fighter from Frostcloud Academy spotted him too late.

They attempted to retreat, ice aura flaring desperately.

Ling Yifan took one step.

The spear flashed.

There was no clash.

No roar.

Just a clean, linear thrust that pierced through the ice aura as if it weren’t there, stopping a hair’s breadth from the fighter’s throat.

The pressure alone sent the Frostcloud fighter stumbling backward, legs giving out as he crossed the boundary in a daze.

ELIMINATION CONFIRMED.

Ling Yifan withdrew the spear without a word and continued walking.

The crowd roared louder than before.

"ANOTHER ONE!"

"LING YIFAN ISN’T STOPPING!"

"WHO’S NEXT?!"

He did not slow.

A Vermillion fighter attempted to intercept him, phoenix flame flaring in a defensive arc.

Ling Yifan shifted his grip.

The spear swept sideways.

The flame split.

Not extinguished.

Divided.

The Vermillion fighter staggered as the spear’s shaft struck their shoulder, momentum redirected, balance shattered.

They fell.

Out of bounds.

ELIMINATION CONFIRMED.

Three eliminations in under a minute.

Clean.

Efficient.

Uninjured.

High above, murmurs spread through the VIP chamber.

"That spear..."

"Not overcommitting."

"He’s choosing targets."

Mei Ying exhaled slowly.

"...Good."

On the battlefield, Ouyang Xue’er advanced in parallel, frost spreading methodically, cutting off retreat paths, forcing movement toward zones Ling Yifan was already approaching.

They did not coordinate verbally.

They didn’t need to.

This wasn’t teamwork.

It was alignment.

Luo Qinghe watched both of them now, expression unreadable.

His domain pulsed, adjusting, vines shifting to compensate for cold zones and spear pressure alike.

"...So," he said quietly, "Azure Dragon still has teeth."

Yue Hanran’s gaze tracked Ling Yifan carefully.

"Discipline," he murmured. "And timing."

The battlefield had changed again.

Chen’s fall had not broken Azure Dragon.

It had freed them.

The ice advanced.

The spear answered.

And somewhere near the forest’s edge, Long Hao remained still, eyes narrowed slightly as the Eclipse System pulsed with growing instability.

The arena had chosen its next hunters.

And it was far from finished.

[Chapter ENDS]