Every one of them wanted the title of first place.
Winning first in a regional zone meant an automatic entry into the top one hundred of the finals, bypassing the semifinals entirely.
For those confident in their strength, challenging the top rank was an irresistible temptation.
Among the four gathered here, one of them was ranked second.
Second place belonged to a woman.
She was strikingly alluring, her figure graceful, her shoulders adorned with two oddly cute doll-like ornaments. In her hands rested a bizarre weapon whose shape defied easy classification. It was not quite a blade, not quite a sword, but something warped and unconventional.
What stood out even more was her attitude.
From the beginning, she watched Rowan with playful curiosity, as if he were an unexpected novelty.
Rowan did not bother engaging with the others.
He had only one target.
The one who had attacked him without warning.
The machine-born warrior.
"Why are you staring at me, kid?" the mechanical man sneered. "Do not tell me you think someone ranked over five hundred thousand can challenge a rank twenty-seven contender like me."
Rowan smiled calmly.
"You attacked first. That already sealed your loss."
The moment those words fell, the surrounding figures felt a chill.
He was serious.
The woman blinked, intrigued, then asked casually, "Which star domain are you from?"
"The Black Dragon Mountain sector," Rowan replied evenly. "I am from there."
The mechanical man processed the data instantly. Then he burst into laughter.
"That sector?" he mocked. "A place that has not broken into relevance for countless eras. Nothing but mediocrity comes from there."
He snorted coldly.
"Figures. Someone ranked that low fits perfectly. Do yourself a favor and leave. I cannot be bothered to dirty my hands with you."
His earlier surprise at Rowan blocking the attack vanished completely. What remained was pure disdain.
The others lost interest.
Only the woman continued to study Rowan. After a moment, she sighed lightly.
"Go," she said. "This is not where you belong. Even I, ranked second, am not confident I can defeat the one ranked first. You managed to block Gra's strike, which means you are not weak. Keep hunting elsewhere. In ten days, you might barely squeeze into the top thousand."
Her tone sounded kind, but her meaning was clear. She did not believe Rowan belonged here.
Rowan ignored her.
His gaze never left the mechanical man.
The Flying Shuttle beneath his feet split apart, reshaping into the Swordfish Formation. Blade-like constructs drifted around him like silent predators circling their prey.
The sight stunned the onlookers.
"Is he serious?" the scythe-wielding youth muttered in disbelief.
The woman's eyes flickered with surprise.
Only an elderly man holding a skull-shaped weapon glanced once, then turned and flew away without a word.
Three remained.
"You plan to interfere?" Rowan asked calmly, glancing at the youth and the woman.
The youth sneered. "Not interested. Not in you, not in the machine. I just want to see how fast you die. I thought I would toy with you later, but if you insist on throwing your life away, that is your choice."
The woman shook her head softly. "Blind confidence always leads to destruction."
Rowan no longer listened.
They would not interfere.
Even if they tried, he did not care.
The mechanical man's anger finally ignited.
He had already shown mercy by sparing Rowan. Now this insect dared provoke him.
"If you want to die, then die."
Panels opened across his chest. From within, two compressed particle cannons emerged.
Blazing beams erupted instantly, moving at terrifying speed.
This was the true terror of machine-born warriors. Their bodies were weapons.
Rowan twisted his waist sharply and slipped past the beams with effortless precision.
At the same instant, his fingers flicked.
The Swordfish Formation surged forward.
The blades closed the distance in a heartbeat.
The machine-born warrior did not panic. Panels opened around his ankles, releasing countless micro-spheres that assembled into a translucent energy barrier.
The Swordfish Formation slammed into it.
The shield held, but the impact force was overwhelming.
The mechanical man's expression changed as his entire body, shield and all, was hurled downward.
A thunderous explosion followed.
The ground collapsed, shockwaves flattening the surrounding terrain. Dust and debris billowed skyward.
"So strong," the woman whispered.
Both she and the scythe-wielding youth were shaken.
The Flying Shuttle was a psychic weapon crafted by Huyan Bo. In the wider universe, psychic weapons of this tier were considered mid-level among third-grade armaments.
Their true power depended entirely on the user.
The stronger the mind, the more terrifying the weapon.
Rowan remembered Babata's teachings clearly.
Most psychic weapons could only safely output eighty percent of their potential. Even at peak optimization, ninety percent was the limit.
Reaching one hundred percent required surpassing the weapon's own tolerance.
Like overfilling a vessel until it overflowed.
That was what Rowan had done.
The cost was damage to the weapon itself.
But the power gain was explosive.
Over the past years, Rowan's mental strength had grown at a frightening rate.
Training the Stellar Rift Blade and controlling one hundred eighty thousand flying blades was an unimaginable burden for a stellar-ranked cultivator.
He had refused to rely on external artifacts, instead forcing his mind to adapt through sheer will.
He collapsed countless times. Lost consciousness again and again.
Each time, his mind was drained to the brink, then restored, refined, and strengthened.
The result was astonishing.
His spiritual power had reached Universe Rank Seventh Stage.
That meant his mind had already stepped into the universe level.
One hundred percent output from the Swordfish Formation was devastating.
No wonder the onlookers were speechless.
Rowan did not stop.
As the Swordfish Formation plunged downward again, he followed.
In the crater below, the mechanical man rose, fury burning through his systems. Pain signals surged throughout his body.
What enraged him most was seeing Rowan descending to finish him.
"You think that hurt me?" he roared. "Die!"
All weapon systems locked onto Rowan.
"Metal Domain. Ultimate Annihilation Cannon."
Seven layers of domain unfolded, metallic energy flooding into every cannon.
Sixteen barrels fired at once.
Blinding light tore through the sky, illuminating everything.
Even the observers felt the pressure.
"This is over," the scythe-wielding youth muttered. "Even I could not block that."
But then something impossible happened.
Facing certain death, Rowan split.
Two identical figures appeared.
One was instantly engulfed by the beams and vanished.
The other shot forward.
The Swordfish Formation reshaped into the Mountain Drill.
Psychic force condensed into a single point.
The drill spun faster and faster, generating a massive artificial vortex that tore at the surroundings.
"No!"
The mechanical man activated his shield again, but his systems were overheated. The earlier barrage had forced a cooldown.
He had miscalculated.
The shield twisted violently, alarms screaming across his vision.
It shattered.
The Mountain Drill pierced straight through him, shredding his body and plunging deep into the earth below.
The ground warped, collapsing into a bottomless abyss.
Silence followed.
Then Rowan's interface flashed.
Points surged.
His ranking jumped to ninety-eight.
Top one hundred.
Rowan recalled the Flying Shuttle. Fine cracks had appeared across several blade segments.
"It can barely keep up anymore," he murmured.
At his current level, the weapon was already struggling.
The scythe-wielding youth stared in disbelief. "Two moves. He killed him in two moves. He was hiding his strength all along."
Rowan hovered calmly, his presence unchanged, as if none of it had required effort at all.