Chapter Twenty-One: Duel of Ice and Fire

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In the blood-soaked arena, a grim tableau of death and despair surrounded them. The fallen lay as silent witnesses to the impending clash between two formidable swordswomen, each driven by her own fervent motives.

Jingliu stood with an air of solemn determination, her gaze locked onto her adversary. Her eyes, once mirrors of tranquility, were now narrowed in a steely resolve. Before her stood Yexian, a woman consumed by a twisted obsession, her lips curved into a malevolent smile that sent shivers down the spines of all who beheld her.

The arena, a macabre testament to their earlier battle, was littered with the lifeless bodies of both allies and foes. The stench of blood and the echoes of death hung heavy in the air. Yet amidst this grim tableau, the two women remained undeterred, their destinies inexorably intertwined.

Yexian's laughter cut through the eerie silence, a manic sound that reverberated in the hearts of those who dared to watch. She reveled in the chaos she had sown, a self-proclaimed champion of the void, her allegiance pledged to the enigmatic Aeon of Nothingness. To her, this battle was a twisted dance of devotion and madness.

With a flourish, Yexian introduced herself, her voice dripping with arrogance and madness. "I am Yexian, the Blood Champion of the Void," she declared, her words a chilling prelude to the impending confrontation.

Jingliu's response was a solemn nod, her unwavering dedication to her friend Y/N burning within her. She could not allow Yexian to tarnish the memory of her beloved comrade with her delusions of possession. Y/N had been a paragon of honor and valor, and Jingliu would defend his legacy with her very life.

As if ignited by the flames of their convictions, the two women launched into action. Yexian's speed was an astonishing blur, far surpassing their previous encounter. Her blood-soaked ruby sword, an embodiment of her violent obsession, swung toward Jingliu with lethal intent, heralding the beginning of their grand and fateful battle.

Jingliu met the oncoming onslaught with a grace born of dedication and mastery. Her own blade, a testament to her unwavering loyalty, moved with precision and purpose. The clash of their swords resonated through the arena, a symphony of steel that echoed the clash of their opposing ideals.

Their fight would not only determine the fate of Xianzhou Yuque but would also serve as a battleground for the very essence of their beliefs. Jingliu fought to preserve the memory of her dear friend, while Yexian sought to claim him as her own, driven by a madness that knew no bounds.

As the Duel of Fates unfolded in the bloodied arena, the destiny of these two swordswomen hung in the balance, and the echoes of their clash reverberated through the hearts of all who bore witness to their battle.

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High above the battlefield, where the cataclysmic clash between Jingliu and Yexian raged on, an enigmatic figure watched with detached interest. This observer was none other than the Pontiff, a being whose existence transcended the mundane concerns of the mortal world.

The Pontiff paid no heed to the brutal engagement of the Corpse Coat Dragon, for it possessed knowledge that rendered such events trivial. Its lord, blessed with glimpses of the future, had foreseen the outcome of that struggle. Instead, the Pontiff's attention was fixed squarely upon the Duel of Fates unfolding below.

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