The crowd encircled the platform, forming a ring of spectators thirsty for blood.
Jiang Chen stepped onto the dueling arena. His clothes were plain, his sleeves patched. His knuckles were wrapped in bloodstained cloth from three days of relentless practice. Across from him stood Lu Yan—robed in black and silver, the colors of an outer disciple with prestige. His saber gleamed at his side.
"You must be tired of living."
Lu Yan sneered.
"You're a servant, not even an outer sect disciple. The sect rules clearly say: stealing a forbidden technique is punishable by death!"
I didn't steal it, Jiang Chen wanted to say. It was abandoned.
But he said nothing.
Let the world speak. His fists would answer.
Elder Wu, the gray-haired referee, stepped forward and raised his hand.
"This is a formal life-and-death duel. Sect Law forbids interference. The one who dies… will not be mourned."
The bell tolled once.
Then silence.
...
Lu Yan moved first—fast. A saber slash like a silver arc cut toward Jiang Chen's neck.
But Jiang Chen sidestepped, ducking low.
Whumph! His fist struck Lu Yan's ribs.
The crowd gasped. A servant had landed the first blow.
[Empty Fist Form – Proficient]
The strike was clean, angled, timed to exploit a gap in Lu Yan's footwork.
Lu Yan staggered back, face flushed.
"You—!" he growled, eyes filled with disbelief. "You dare strike me?!"
"Wasn't that the point of a duel?" Jiang Chen said coldly.
...
Lu Yan roared and rushed again, this time with proper killing intent. His saber blurred, slashing in a horizontal arc.
Jiang Chen twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the edge, and slammed his fist into Lu Yan's shoulder—twice.
Bang! Bang!
The second strike sent Lu Yan reeling backward, crashing into the ground.
[Iron Body Tempering – Entry (6%)]
Even as he fought, Jiang Chen's body toughened, enduring impact and pressure.
Lu Yan spat blood. Anger turned to fear.
"Impossible! You're just a servant! How… how did your technique become so refined?!"
The crowd stirred. Whispers spread.
"Did you see that footwork?"
"That wasn't some wild brawling. That was a real martial form!"
"He's trained. Trained hard…"
...
Jiang Chen advanced, footfalls light, posture upright.
He exhaled deeply.
A subtle breeze followed his movement.
His stance became rooted. Fist raised.
Then he stepped forward—
And struck.
Boom!
A single, explosive punch.
Lu Yan's saber went flying, knocked from his hand.
His ribs caved slightly from the force. He coughed up a mouthful of blood and collapsed to his knees.
[Empty Fist Form – Great Achievement (1%)]
So... pushing it in battle raises it faster, Jiang Chen realized.
Lu Yan looked up, dazed. "…Mercy…"
Jiang Chen hesitated.
He didn't hate Lu Yan. Not truly. The man had been arrogant, proud, cruel perhaps—but Jiang Chen wasn't a killer by nature.
But then the elder raised his hand.
"You must finish him, Jiang Chen. A duel to the death must be honored. Or you'll be punished instead."
Jiang Chen clenched his fist.
His knuckles throbbed. His blood felt like fire.
'This is the world I've come to.'
'Hesitate… and die.'
He struck again. A clean blow to the heart.
No suffering. No scream.
Lu Yan crumpled, lifeless.
The arena went silent.
...
Elder Wu looked down at the corpse, then turned to Jiang Chen. His eyes, though aged, gleamed with unreadable depth.
"You survived. Against odds."
"From today onward… Jiang Chen is no longer just a servant. He will be taken as an Outer Disciple of Azure Peak Sect."
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
A servant promoted? Unheard of.
But none dared protest.
They had seen his fists.
Felt the shift in air.
And for a moment—they feared him.
...
That night, Jiang Chen returned to his small hut with a satchel of outer disciple robes and a scroll of basic cultivation methods.
He opened the Proficiency Panel.
[Empty Fist Form – Great Achievement (1%)]
[Iron Body Tempering – Entry (9%)]
New Skill Detected: Basic Qi Absorption – Entry (0%)
Status: Outer Disciple | Mortal Realm – Body Tempering Stage 2
'It's working.'
'So long as I train… I can rise.'
Then, a strange memory flickered at the back of his mind—like a dream or distant echo.
A silver palace. A war in the heavens. A name: "Jiang Tian."
The feeling of floating among stars.
'Who… was I before?'
His head throbbed. The vision faded.
But something stirred within.
A whisper.
Remember…