So, so embarrassing.

He had originally wanted to make a good impression in front of Little Senior Sister.

He had never been good at interacting with people since he was young. Every time he ran into Little Senior Sister before, he was so shy he couldn’t even speak. Today, when he heard something unusual from her room, he entered the courtyard without thinking much, never expecting to end up in such an awkward situation.

Evan Parker stammered, unable to get a word out, his mind completely blank. In a daze, he suddenly heard Grace Carter’s voice, her tone no different from before: “Did you bring back enough melons to last several days? How many did you and Elder Senior Sister steal? Didn’t Wanjian Sect catch you?”

She must have misheard.

What he said was “melon rinds.”

He was feeling anxious, but Little Senior Sister’s expression remained unchanged. It seemed she really hadn’t heard clearly, nor had she connected him with “that friend.”

Evan Parker pressed his lips together and smiled, the flush on his ears fading a bit. “Quite a few. Does Little Senior Sister want to hear about how we stole the melons?”

Grace Carter: “Go ahead.”

So the topic successfully shifted to Elder Senior Sister and the melon field at Wanjian Sect. It was said that Senior Sister once remarked: stealing melons doesn’t count as stealing—when it comes to sword cultivators, can anything be called stealing?

Evan Parker spoke earnestly, and even helped clean up the scattered debris on the ground, completely unaware that Grace Carter beside him had quietly let out a breath of relief.

Phew, that was close.

Looking at Little White Dragon’s red-rimmed eyes and pale little face, she was glad she reacted quickly and played dumb.

Otherwise, she might have really started crying.

=====

The next day, Grace Carter was woken up by the system.

Luckily, the bed was far from the alchemy furnace, so she wasn’t much affected. After saying goodbye to Evan Parker, she quickly dragged her exhausted body to bed and fell asleep.

As soon as she opened her eyes the next morning, she saw several large lines of text floating in her mind:

[Ding! Mission issued!]

[The Sword Sect tournament is underway. You still resent losing to Henry Clark yesterday and are determined to teach him a lesson.]

[Please proceed immediately to the arena and launch a surprise attack on Henry Clark during his match.]

This plot point had finally arrived.

Grace Carter sat up groggily in bed, running her hands through her messy hair.

This was the turning point for Henry Clark’s comeback—a scene that left a deep impression in the original novel.

The internal tournament of the Xuanxu Sword Sect used an elimination system. Yesterday, Henry Clark had defeated Grace Carter, and today he had to continue competing with other disciples.

It was hard to say whether his luck was good or bad—this time, his opponent turned out to be a direct disciple in the Golden Core stage.

That disciple’s name was Owen Brooks, a student under Master Qingxu, and his strength was formidable. After witnessing the battle between Henry Clark and Grace Carter yesterday, he knew not to underestimate his opponent. To be safe, he even used a hidden weapon.

—In the Sword Sect tournament, hidden weapons were, of course, forbidden.

But his Soul-Capturing Nail was as thin as a mosquito’s leg, undetectable by spiritual power when activated. Plus, the audience seats were far from the arena, so after he used it to seriously injure Henry Clark, no one noticed anything amiss.

Aside from this interference, the original host was also doing her utmost to stir up trouble.

Her main sword technique was called “Star Net,” which emphasized striking as swiftly as the wind and as densely as the stars—in short, fast, ruthless, and precise, catching the enemy off guard with invisible, formless attacks.

Indeed, the original host vividly demonstrated what it meant to have no bottom line—she used her sword intent to ambush Henry Clark from behind during his match with Owen Brooks.

With both a hidden weapon and a sword technique attacking him, Henry Clark had nowhere to escape. He was destined to be gravely injured and left barely alive. Yet, at the brink of death, it was also the moment he would find new life.

Thinking of this, Grace Carter got out of bed, dressed, and washed up in one go. As she picked up the Star Mark Sword, she couldn’t help but think: villains really are just tools for the protagonist to gain experience—no doubt about it.

Thanks to sword flight, she quickly arrived at Kaiyang Peak, where the arena was located. The duel between Henry Clark and Owen Brooks was at its most intense, blades and swords flashing on stage.

In the early morning, Kaiyang Peak was shrouded in clouds and mist, sunlight piercing through layers of white fog like countless sword shadows—tangible yet traceless. Mist billowed up and down the peaks, clouds rolling and unrolling, like a thousand-mile-long gallery painted in watery hues.

From an ordinary person’s perspective, all they could see were the fleeting afterimages of the two on stage. The fierce sword intent reflected dazzling white light under the sun, and when the swords clashed, they split the mist like frost and snow in the sky, thunder roaring in silence.

Dressed in black, Henry Clark’s expression was calm and indifferent. As an unknown outer disciple, he was not at a disadvantage in the match. Seeing that Owen Brooks was already losing ground, Grace Carter knew it was time to act.

She could see the movements of the two on stage more clearly than anyone, so she also knew exactly when to make her move.

As the white mist rose, Grace Carter formed a hand seal with one hand and pressed down steadily behind Henry Clark.

Rain Strikes Flying Petals—swift sword, traceless.

Invisible sword intent swept down, but before Grace Carter could even show a “that’s as far as a tool like me can help you” smile, the curve of her lips froze on her face.

Oh no.

She wasn’t very skilled at using seals yet, so this sword intent…

Seemed to have gone off course.

=====

Henry Clark quickly sensed the sword wind coming at him.

Unlike Owen Brooks’s heavy sword filled with killing intent, this sword intent was light and agile, almost undetectable. He was all too familiar with this feeling—it was the same female disciple he had faced yesterday.

A deep, rough male voice buzzed in his mind, making him instinctively frown slightly: “Damn, someone’s launching a sneak attack!”