The Stele of Names loomed, radiant in the midday sun. Hundreds of disciples filled the courtyard, their murmurs rippling like waves. Some had come out of curiosity, others to measure themselves against the pressure of progress, but all eyes turned toward the lone figure standing before the challenge platform.
Li Wei's sword rested steady at his side. His breath was calm. The storm of his breakthrough had already settled into clarity. Now he would test the true depth of his Foundation.
"Li Wei of Heavenly Dragon Sect petitions the Stele for a challenge above Rank 148."
The runes across the ancient monument pulsed, glowing as they searched. A name flared bright—Rank 141.
The first opponent strode forward, a youth with fists wrapped in stone qi. His body was sturdy, his stance grounded, a wall of earth prepared to endure.
The duel began.
The boy surged forward, each punch landing with the weight of boulders. The platform shuddered under his steps. But Li Wei did not meet power with power. Flowing Cloud Steps carried him aside, movements sharper, swifter than before. His blade cut once, clean and precise. A wall of earth shattered, the force carrying through to knock his opponent back.
"Winner: Li Wei. New Rank: 141."
Whispers spread quickly. He hadn't even needed a second strike.
The challenges continued. Rank 136 stepped forward, a girl wielding twin sabers glowing with crimson qi. Her movements blazed, arcs of flame crossing in rapid succession, each strike faster than the last.
Li Wei parried calmly, his divine sense reading the rhythm of her blades. Whirlwind Slash scattered the fire into sparks. Then his sword turned, cutting through the gap between her swings. Her guard broke, sabers clattering from her hands.
"Winner: Li Wei. New Rank: 136."
More voices rose. The crowd thickened.
Rank 128 followed. A spear wielder, his weapon's reach extended by cutting gusts of wind. He pressed aggressively, forcing most opponents to surrender before reaching him.
But Li Wei's Azure Wind Scripture resonated more deeply at Foundation. His own wind was heavier, sharper, drowning out the other's gusts. Flowing Cloud Steps carried him inside, where the spear's length was a burden. Tempest Fang Slash ended the match in a single exchange.
"Winner: Li Wei. New Rank: 128."
The climb continued. Rank after rank fell—124, 119, 115. Some fought with grit, some with flair, but all were swept aside by the density of Li Wei's liquid qi and the sharp edge of his mastery. Each opponent forced him to test a different facet: his sword's precision against heavy defenses, his footwork against rapid strikes, his divine sense against feints.
And with each victory, his understanding deepened. His body was still adapting to the new flow of qi, but with every clash, it grew steadier. His techniques no longer strained at the edge of possibility—they flourished.
By late afternoon, he stood at Rank 109.
The air in the courtyard was tense, heavy with anticipation. Disciples leaned forward, watching closely. Breaking into the top hundred was more than climbing numbers. It was a wall few could cross.
Li Wei raised his gaze to the glowing monument. "I petition the Stele for a challenge above Rank 109."
The runes pulsed. A name burned brighter.
Rank 97.
Gasps spread through the courtyard. Some laughed in disbelief, others muttered predictions of his failure. But all eyes fixed on the challenger who now stepped forward.
The man was older, perhaps two years Li Wei's senior. His aura was steady, refined, carrying the weight of Foundation Establishment. A long glaive gleamed in his hands, golden inscriptions shimmering along its length. Each step he took was measured, assured.
"You've climbed fast," he said as he mounted the platform. His voice was calm, but beneath it lingered challenge. "But the hundred are not the same as the rabble below. Here, every name is earned."
Li Wei's gaze did not waver. "Then let me earn mine."
The crowd hushed as the Stele pulsed. The duel began.
The glaive swept forward immediately, golden arcs slashing through the air with crushing weight. The force rattled the platform, a storm of strikes forcing Li Wei backward. This was Foundation qi—refined, heavy, biting.
Li Wei answered with Flowing Cloud Steps, his body blurring through the gaps. Divine sense stretched outward, catching the rhythm behind the glaive's arcs. His sword rose, Tempest Fang Slash bursting forth. The storm of wind collided with golden light, sparks scattering across the stage. Both men slid back a step.
The onlookers erupted. "He held against it!"
The glaive wielder pressed harder, his weapon spinning in wide, flowing arcs that left no space to breathe. Every strike carried a crushing intent, forcing most opponents to the edge. But Li Wei was not most opponents.
His liquid qi surged smoothly, pouring strength into each motion. His blade deflected the arcs with clean precision, parrying where others would have broken. His divine sense sharpened each defense until the overwhelming storm became a pattern.
Then Li Wei pressed forward.
Whirlwind Slash roared, scattering golden arcs aside. Flowing Cloud Steps carried him inside, sword flashing in tight, efficient strikes. Each one was heavy now, dense with liquid qi, cutting not just at flesh but at the rhythm of the glaive itself.
The older disciple grunted, his expression hardening. "Your qi… it's denser... Earth Grade?"
Li Wei's eyes narrowed. "Because I invested where it mattered."
The Azure Wind Scripture bloomed fully, his strikes riding a storm that howled with earth-grade ferocity. His blade carved lines of wind that did not disperse, but hammered, pressed, crushed.
The glaive wielder staggered under the assault, forced into retreat. He spun his weapon desperately, golden arcs flaring brighter. But Li Wei's sword cut through them, the density of his qi overwhelming.
A final Tempest Fang Slash crashed down. The storm of wind shattered the golden guard, slamming into the glaive wielder's chest. He was thrown back, weapon clattering to the platform, his robes shredded by the gale.
The platform fell silent. Then the Stele flared.
"Winner: Li Wei. New Rank: 97."
The crowd erupted. Cheers, shouts, disbelief. Some stared wide-eyed, others whispered with awe. Breaking into the hundred was rare enough. Doing so the very day of a breakthrough—unheard of.
Li Wei stood steady, lowering his sword. His chest rose and fell, but his eyes were calm. He had proven what Foundation Establishment meant when paired with mastery and resolve. His path had stepped into a new tier.
The glaive wielder climbed back to his feet, grimacing but nodding once. "You've earned it. The hundred is yours."
Li Wei inclined his head, respectful but silent. He turned from the platform, whispers following him like a tide. None of it mattered. What mattered was the clarity in his dantian, the density in his veins, the resonance of his scripture with every breath.
The Tournament was three weeks away. And he would be ready.