"Xing Jue?" Someone in the crowd recognized the young man walking toward the arena. Word spread like wildfire, and within moments, everyone knew.
"It's Xing Jue! What's he doing?"
"I thought he was demoted to a servant!"
"Challenging Lü Zhan? He must be crazy!"
Waves of disbelief and mockery rippled through the arena. Not only the Xing Clan, but members of the Zhao and Lü Clans as well, turned to stare at Xing Jue with a mixture of amusement and contempt. Xing Feng, in particular, looked like he'd just heard the funniest joke in his life. He had to give it to Xing Jue - the kid had guts. Or maybe he had finally cracked under pressure.
Xing Jue, however, ignored them all. He continued walking, his pace measured and steady, his face an unreadable mask.
Just as he was about to step onto the platform, a large, imposing figure stepped in front of him, blocking his path. It was the Xing Clan Instructor, his face creased with concern.
"Instructor?" Xing Jue stopped, surprised.
"Xing Jue," the Instructor said, his voice low and urgent, "go back. This is no place for you."
Xing Jue looked at the Instructor, the man who had always treated him fairly, even after his demotion. He knew the Instructor meant well, but he didn't understand. He wasn't that helpless, weak boy anymore.
"Instructor," he asked, his voice calm, "am I still a member of the Xing Clan?"
"Of course," the Instructor said, without hesitation.
"Then as a member of the Xing Clan," Xing Jue said, his gaze steady, "I have the right to fight for its honor. Don't I?"
The Instructor hesitated, his face etched with conflict. "In theory, yes. But… Xing Jue, you must understand. Lü Zhan… he defeated both Xing Feng and Zhao Zhen with a single blow. He's on a completely different level. I know you're upset about your demotion, but this… this is suicide." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "That servant's job I got you… it's a good one. You can live out your days peacefully. Don't throw it all away for a foolish sense of pride."
"What would it take to convince you to let me pass?" Xing Jue asked, his gaze never leaving the Instructor's face.
The Instructor sighed. "You'd have to defeat me," he said at last.
Xing Jue hesitated. It wasn't that he didn't think he could win – he'd grown stronger than the Instructor could possibly imagine. But even if he held back, a fight would take a toll. He needed to be at his best for Lü Zhan.
"Is there a problem, Judge?" Lü Zhan's voice rang out, sharp and clear, cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. "Is someone trying to prevent a challenge?"
"The right to challenge belongs to the challenger alone," the Judge said, his voice firm. "Step aside, Instructor."
"Judge," the Instructor protested, "this… this boy is no longer a disciple. He's a servant! He's not even eligible to participate."
"A servant?" Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"He's just a lowly servant?"
"Even the disciples were no match for Lü Zhan, what makes him think he stands a chance?"
"So what if he's a servant?" Lü Zhan's voice boomed across the arena, silencing the crowd. "Does the right to challenge end where one's social standing begins?"
The Judge stammered, at a loss for words. The rules were silent on the matter of servants. He turned to the Patriarchs' platform, his gaze pleading for guidance.
"Let the boy fight," a voice said, calm and deep as the ocean.
It was Elder Feng Jizi, the Wind Sage. His eyes, usually half-closed in meditation, were now wide open, watching Xing Jue with an unreadable expression.
"He is a disciple of the Yu Feng Pavilion," the Judge murmured, his voice barely audible above the gasps of the crowd.
Of course. Of course he was. That explained everything—Lü Zhan's power, his confidence, his arrogance. He hadn't just been training for the past three years. He had been forged in the fires of the Yu Feng Pavilion, under the tutelage of one of the greatest Martial Ancestors in the land.
"Thank you, Elder," Xing Jue said, bowing slightly. "For allowing me this opportunity."
"Don't be a fool, Xing Jue," the Instructor pleaded one last time as Xing Jue stepped onto the platform.
Xing Jue smiled. "Don't worry, Instructor," he said. "It's going to be fine."
Up on the platform, Lü Zhan's face broke into a genuine smile. He had been bored out of his mind. Finally, a worthy opponent!
"Xing Jue, it's good to see you again," he said.
"Let's make this interesting, Lü Zhan," Xing Jue said, his eyes gleaming with a challenge. "Because today… I'm taking that champion's title."
Lü Zhan threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing through the tense silence. "Oh, is that so?" He lunged, his fist shooting forward like a striking cobra, aimed straight at Xing Jue's chest. "Let's see if you've got what it takes!"
Xing Jue didn't flinch. He met Lü Zhan's attack head-on, his own fist shooting out to meet it.
"Boom!"
Their fists connected, and the force of the impact rippled through the arena, sending the crowd stumbling backwards. Xing Jue didn't give an inch, his High-Rank Martial Disciple cultivation flaring to life.
"What?" The arena erupted into chaos as the shock of what they were seeing sank in.
"He… he blocked it?"
"He's a… a High-Rank Martial Disciple?"
"Impossible!" Xing Feng screamed, his face twisted with disbelief and rage. He had seen Xing Jue as a helpless, broken thing barely a year ago. How could this be possible?
Not just Xing Feng, but everyone who had known Xing Jue before his demotion – his father, the Instructor, all of them – stared at him like they were seeing a ghost. Finally, a slow smile spread across the Instructor's face. He understood now.
"Well done," Lü Zhan said, grinning, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He had been expecting a challenge, but this… this was exhilarating! Xing Jue wasn't just strong—he was good.
"Come on, Xing Jue," Lü Zhan said, his grin widening. "Let's stop holding back."
"Gladly," Xing Jue said, smiling. He could sense it too—Lü Zhan had been testing him, just like he'd been testing Lü Zhan.
"Very well, then." Lü Zhan closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, they seemed to crackle with power. His cultivation, no longer suppressed, exploded outwards, filling the arena with a pressure so intense that it felt like the air itself was about to shatter.
"Here I come!" He roared, launching himself at Xing Jue.
Xing Jue met him head-on, his own power surging to meet Lü Zhan's.
The arena became a whirlwind of motion, a blur of fists and feet as the two young men exchanged blows with ferocious speed and power. The sound of their attacks clashing was like thunder, each blow sending shockwaves that ripped through the ground and sent the crowd staggering backwards.
"Incredible!"
"They're both so strong!"
Even the disciples, watching from the sidelines, were in awe. Neither of them possessed the strength or speed to even dream of keeping up.
"Boom!"
Another clash, this one so powerful that it sent both young men flying backwards.
They landed, feet apart, and burst out laughing.
"This is amazing!" Lü Zhan roared, his eyes shining with a joy he hadn't felt in years.
"You're not bad yourself, Lü Zhan," Xing Jue said, grinning, every muscle in his body thrumming with the thrill of the fight.
But even as he spoke, he knew it couldn't last. They were both nearing their limit. It was time to end this.
Lü Zhan, it seemed, had reached the same conclusion. He took a deep breath, and when he exhaled, his entire body began to glow with a faint golden light. His Chi, already powerful, began to swirl around him with renewed intensity, and his right fist began to crackle with energy.
"Let's see you handle this, Xing Jue! " he boomed.
Even the Instructor paled. "He's… he's using a Martial Skill!"
"And a powerful one, at that," Xing Tian, the Xing Clan Patriarch, murmured, his face grim. "That's at least an Earth-Rank, Initial-Level Martial Skill! We don't have anything like that in our entire clan! Xing Jue… he doesn't stand a chance."
The Lü Clan Patriarch smiled triumphantly. Even Elder Feng Jizi, his eyes narrowed in thought, nodded in approval. This was the power of the Yu Feng Pavilion – the power that set them apart from the rest of the world.
And then, Xing Jue moved.
"Hm," he said softly, and raised his hand.
To everyone's shock, it began to glow, just like Lü Zhan's, with the same golden light. His Chi, like Lü Zhan's, began to gather around his hand, and the air around him crackled with power.
"An Earth-Rank Martial Skill?" Xing Feng whispered, his eyes wide with disbelief. "How?"
And then, Elder Feng Jizi, the Wind Sage, spoke, his voice sharp with shock.
"That technique…" he murmured, his gaze fixed on Xing Jue, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Could that be… the Wind Devouring Palm?"