The cheers still rang in Li Wei's ears long after he stepped down from the dueling stage. Sweat clung to his skin, but his grip on the sword was steady, his breathing even.
Liang Fei had fought like a storm given flesh, yet the final clash still lingered in his memory: sword edge against fist, will against will. It was not triumph that settled in Li Wei's chest now, but something quieter. A reminder that victory in this world was never final — there would always be another mountain beyond.
The courtyard had not yet settled. Disciples whispered in hushed awe, their voices carrying the disbelief of what they had seen. Li Wei — the academy youth with no clan, no lineage, no backing — had claimed the Heavenly Dragon Sect's final seat.
Some stared with respect, others with envy, but none dared dismiss him now.
From the corner of his eye, he caught Liang Fei being helped aside. The brawler brushed off attendants with a laugh, his grin bloody but unbroken. Even in defeat, his spirit remained as iron as his fists. Shen Mu sat silently not far away, his sword resting across his knees, his sharp gaze betraying neither bitterness nor surrender. Jian Tao, by contrast, stood still and aloof, crimson robes billowing faintly — his composure intact, though his clenched jaw spoke of the storm he contained within.
Mei pressed through the crowd, relief softening her features as she reached Li Wei's side. "You're hurt."
"Nothing worth naming," Li Wei said. His voice was calm, but when her gaze lingered on his shoulder — the one Liang Fei's strike had nearly broken — he added, "I'll rest."
She let out a breath, then smiled faintly. "You did it."
His eyes lowered, not to hide pride, but because the words felt heavy. "It was only one step."
Before more could be said, the presiding elder rose. His golden-robed figure seemed to draw the air taut again, silence falling like a blade.
The elder's gaze swept the stage, sharp as a whetted edge. "You have all witnessed," his voice carried, calm but undeniable. "Through strength, heart, and clarity, through trial and contest, four have proven worthy to ascend to Heavenly Dragon Sect."
Gasps and murmurs stirred, but none dared interrupt as his sleeve flicked. Four names rang out:
"Li Wei."
"Liang Fei."
"Jian Tao."
"Shen Mu."
The courtyard shifted, the chosen four stepping forward into the weight of countless stares.
Li Wei stood among them, his expression composed, though the quiet storm within him had yet to fade. Jian Tao's princely calm barely masked humiliation, his pride gnawed at by the knowledge that his crown meant nothing before the Sect. Liang Fei grinned despite the blood still on his lips, every bruise a badge of honor. Shen Mu's eyes were cool, blade-like even in setback, already sharpening for the battles yet to come.
The elder's gaze lingered, then softened slightly. "There are those among you who, though not among the four victors, bear gifts this sect does not overlook. Such physiques… such bloodlines… are seeds we must not waste."
At that, several heads turned as Mei Yun and Xu Feng stepped forward, summoned by name.
The courtyard rippled with fresh murmurs — some awed, others jealous. Whispers spread like wildfire: What physique? What bloodline? Why them? A few eyes flickered with envy, but none dared voice protest. To question the elder's will was to court ruin.
The elder raised his staff, voice cold as iron. "Six from Xianglong shall ascend. But remember this: Heavenly Dragon Sect is not Xianglong Kingdom. Here, birth and fortune weigh less than the Dao one forges with his own hands. What you have achieved today is a beginning, nothing more."
The words struck like cold water. Even the prince's shoulders stiffened.
Li Wei lowered his head slightly, not in shame, but acknowledgment. A beginning. Yes — that was all this was.
From the stands, Wang Zhao stared at the stage, his fists trembling. Defeated, left behind, his heart ached with unwillingness. Yao Lin sat beside him, face pale — for so long she had dreamed of ascending alongside him, yet now the gulf between them was an abyss.
Xu Feng's brow was shadowed, unreadable, as though the elder's words had stirred something deeper in his blood. Mei Yun's hand brushed her sleeve, eyes calm, though beneath that serenity was the quiet ripple of something unspoken, something dangerous.
The elder's sleeve stirred, dismissing them. "Three days. Prepare yourselves. Then you will ascend with me to Heavenly Dragon Sect."
The courtyard erupted again, disciples surging forward with questions, with awe, with envy. But for the chosen six, the noise felt distant.
Li Wei looked once more at the sky. Beyond the mountains, beyond the clouds, somewhere the true Heavenly Dragon Sect awaited. His heart stirred. The kingdom, the academy, even this grand tournament — all of it was nothing more than a foothill before the vast peak of cultivation.
The tournament was over.
The real path was only about to begin.