The crowd roared as the names were announced.
"Long Fei of Fallen Town!"
"Ye Tianlong of the Eastern Plains!"
One from obscurity, one a prodigy cursed by fate. Both stepping into the arena beneath the sun, both carrying the weight of destiny—or so the crowd whispered.
---
Ye Tianlong's Entrance
Ye Tianlong strutted onto the stage in spotless white robes embroidered with golden dragons. His hair fluttered behind him as though the wind itself paid homage. His eyes burned with a mix of arrogance and hatred, as if the heavens had wronged him personally.
The murmurs swelled.
"That's Ye Tianlong, the one born with the Heaven-Devouring Body!"
"But he was cursed, wasn't he? Banished from his sect… he's been wandering ever since."
"Still, his talent is real. They say he crushed thirty disciples in a single duel!"
Ye Tianlong sneered at the crowd, then looked at Long Fei as though gazing at an insect.
"You're unfortunate," he said, voice dripping disdain. "The heavens placed you before me today. Consider yourself honored—you will be my stepping stone to joining Ironheart Sect."
He flicked his sleeve, releasing a faint glow of qi that rippled across the arena. The air thickened, pressure falling upon Long Fei like invisible chains.
---
Long Fei's Resolve
Long Fei's knees buckled for a moment. His breath hitched. So this is the aura of a Heaven's Chosen…
But then he remembered. The puppets that beat him until his bones shattered. The endless near-deaths. The voice of his master, calm and merciless: Stand. Or die.
Compared to that hell, Ye Tianlong's pressure was laughable.
Long Fei straightened. He clenched his fists, and a calm strength surged through his veins. His cultivation, at peak Foundation Realm, steadied like an unshakable mountain.
Ye Tianlong frowned. "Oh? You can still stand? Good. That means when I crush you, the crowd will remember my glory."
---
The Battle Begins
The referee gave the signal.
"Begin!"
Ye Tianlong exploded forward, qi spiraling around him like storm winds. "Dragon Breaks the Sky!" he roared, his fist glowing with golden light as it thundered toward Long Fei's chest.
The crowd gasped. It was a technique beyond ordinary Foundation Realm, a move that could shatter boulders.
Long Fei inhaled. He stepped forward instead of back, his fists rising. He remembered Garfield's claws striking like hammers, the wooden golems battering him mercilessly. His body moved instinctively, honed by pain.
His fist collided with Ye Tianlong's.
BOOM!
Shockwaves rippled across the arena. Dust flew. Disciples in the stands screamed as protective barriers trembled.
When the smoke cleared, Ye Tianlong staggered three steps back, his arm trembling. Long Fei stood firm, blood trickling from his knuckles—but his eyes blazed with determination.
The crowd erupted.
"He… he blocked it?!"
"That's impossible! Ye Tianlong has the Heaven-Devouring Body!"
---
Heaven's Chosen Rage
Ye Tianlong's face twisted with rage. "You dare humiliate me?! I am Ye Tianlong! The heavens themselves favor me! No mere bumpkin will stand against me!"
He unleashed a flurry of techniques, each more dazzling than the last. Golden dragons clawed the air, flames roared, shadows of celestial beasts filled the arena.
Long Fei was driven back, body bloodied, but he did not fall. Every strike reminded him of the training: the endless pain, the despair, and the way Lai's casual voice would say, Again.
Each time Ye Tianlong thought he had won, Long Fei rose again, stronger, faster, fiercer.
Finally, Long Fei roared, qi erupting from him like a tidal wave. He stepped forward, both fists clenched.
"Mountain Shatters the Sky!"
His punch, born of pain and forged through endless death, slammed into Ye Tianlong's chest.
CRACK!
Ye Tianlong flew across the arena, crashing into the barrier with bone-shaking force. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he crumpled to the ground.
---
Silence, Then Roars
For a heartbeat, silence blanketed the arena.
Then the crowd erupted like thunder.
"He won! The boy from Fallen Town actually won!"
"Ye Tianlong… defeated?!"
"This is… this is a clash of Heaven's Chosen!"
Long Fei stood in the center of the arena, chest heaving, blood dripping from his fists. He couldn't believe it himself. But then he saw his master in the stands—Lai was simply smiling, as though he'd expected this all along.
"That," Lai murmured to himself, "was truly a battle of protagonists. So very cliché."
---
Aftermath
The referee declared Long Fei the winner.
Before the crowd's cheers faded, an Ironheart Sect elder leapt onto the stage, his eyes blazing with greed and excitement.
"Young man, your talent is extraordinary! Our sect would be honored to recruit you. With guidance, you could ascend to heights beyond imagination!"
Before Long Fei could answer, Garfield stepped forward, his aura pressing like a mountain.
"He is my second disciple-brother," Garfield growled. "He already has a master."
The elder stiffened. His eyes flickered to Garfield, sensing the cultivation of an early Soul Transformation Realm. He swallowed hard. "Then… who is your master?"
Garfield pointed toward the stands. "Him."
The elder followed the direction of the claw… and froze.
A simple farmer sat there, chewing on a roasted peanut, smiling faintly. Beside him, a little Naga girl called him "Master" as she tugged on his sleeve.
The elder's knees weakened. He bowed deeply. "This humble elder pays respects!"
Then, without another word, he turned and fled the stage, sweat soaking his back.
---
A Shocking Invitation
Meanwhile, Lai walked calmly toward Ye Tianlong, who was still kneeling on the ground, coughing blood and clutching his chest.
The boy glared up with bloodshot eyes, humiliation burning. "I… I will have my revenge…!"
Lai crouched before him, eyes gentle yet terrifying.
"If you want revenge," he said softly, "then come farm with me."
Ye Tianlong blinked. "Wh… what?"
"Only by tilling soil and feeding cabbages will you understand true power." Lai patted his shoulder, then turned away.
Ye Tianlong was left speechless, trembling—not from pain, but from confusion and fear.
---
Cliffhanger
Back at the Ironheart Sect, the elder who had fled burst into the sect master's hall, face pale and drenched in sweat.
"There's a terrifying being attending the tournament," he stammered.
The sect master frowned. "Terrifying? Who is he? A hidden immortal? A demonic cultivator?"
The elder's lips trembled. His teeth chattered as he whispered, "He… he looks… like a farmer…"
---