The first rays of dawn spilled across the spires of the Academy of Crowns, painting the marble walls in warm gold. Banners bearing the academy's crest fluttered in the morning breeze, their silken edges snapping sharply against the cool air. The central courtyard was already alive — students in their cultivation robes sparred in the open practice rings, steel striking steel in rhythmic clashes, while others sat cross-legged under the peach blossom trees, absorbing qi in disciplined silence.
Edran walked through the bustle without hurry, his dark gaze sweeping the grounds. The murmurs followed him — not loud enough to be called taunts, but unmistakably laced with curiosity and apprehension.
> "Did you hear? He broke through mid-stage overnight."
"From early Qi Condensation to mid-stage in a single leap… and right before the competition."
"Hmph. Sudden leaps like that are unstable. He'll falter in the arena."
He ignored them. Let them talk — he had no need to correct their assumptions. The Azure Dragon Breathing Art, low earth grade though it was, had firmed his foundation beyond what most of them could guess. And beneath that, hidden even from the academy elders, the dormant pulse of the Dragon Vein Physique slumbered quietly… waiting.
The tournament grounds loomed ahead, a wide, tiered amphitheater with seating enough for thousands. Already the stands were filling — noble families in fine silks, sect representatives in embroidered robes, and students eager to witness another day of contests.
---
Early Matches
The morning's opening bouts were loud and quick, meant to warm up the crowd.
First into the arena was Kaelen Faris, a Foundation Establishment early-stage prodigy whose Flame-Tiger Fist was notorious for melting opponents' defenses. Against his late Qi Condensation foe, he moved like a storm of embers, every punch a miniature explosion. The match ended in under five exchanges, his opponent's robe singed and smoking.
Next came Lirienne Solvain, peak Qi Condensation, famed for her Moonlight Step — a movement art that blurred her body into afterimages. She danced through her opponent's sword strikes, her own blade drawing a single thin line across his chest before he yielded. The crowd roared, her name echoing off the stone.
From the far side of the stands, under the shade of a crimson pavilion, a pair of robed figures watched in silence.
> "The Solvain girl's footwork is refined," murmured one, his voice low and sharp.
"She is not our target. The boy — Edran. He's the variable."
"His potential runs deeper than the elders suspect," the other replied, eyes narrowing. "If left unchecked…"
"We won't leave him unchecked."
Their attention drifted back to the arena as the next match began.
---
Tension Between Factions
Back in the waiting halls beneath the arena, Edran leaned against a column, arms folded. Around him, the air was thick with rivalry. Across the room, members of the Ironblade Faction muttered to one another, occasionally sending pointed looks his way.
From the opposite side, two students from the Azure Rain Pavilion, both late Qi Condensation, whispered and smirked, clearly trying to provoke him. He met their eyes briefly, calm and unreadable, before turning away. Their amusement dimmed.
> They want me rattled before I step into the ring, he thought. Let them waste their energy.
A muffled cheer from above signaled another victory.
---
More Matches — Building Toward the Main Event
The final preliminary of the morning pitted Rovan Darric, peak Qi Condensation and master of the Iron Mountain Palm, against a mid-stage Foundation Establishment opponent. The impact of each palm strike shook the arena's wards, drawing murmurs from the crowd. Though Rovan ultimately fell, his power was undeniable — and his eyes lingered on Edran as he left the stage, a silent promise of future confrontation.
High above, the two cloaked villains exchanged a look.
> "The pieces are moving," one said.
"Yes. And soon the board will be ours."
---
Edran's Turn
A herald's voice rang out, echoing across the amphitheater:
> "Next match — Edran Varros, mid-stage Qi Condensation… versus Luthar Vane, peak-stage Qi Condensation!"
The murmurs surged instantly. Luthar Vane was a known quantity — his Stone Fang Spear technique was infamous for its precision and crushing force. Against someone a realm lower, the odds were firmly in his favor.
Edran rose smoothly, his shadow stretching long under the torchlight of the hall. As he stepped into the sunlight of the arena, the sound of the crowd swelled — a mix of cheers, gasps, and tense whispers.
On the opposite side, Luthar waited, spear in hand, the weapon's steel tip catching the sun in a glint of cold light. His stance was relaxed but predatory, like a wolf scenting its prey.
They locked eyes across the ring.
The referee's voice carried over the expectant silence.
> "Begin—"
And the world seemed to hold its breath.