The morning sun rose clear and brilliant, casting a golden sheen over the martial field of the Lin Clan. The training grounds, normally a place of discipline and sweat, had been transformed into a ceremonial arena. Wide banners embroidered with the crimson flame insignia of the Lin Clan fluttered in the breeze. Wooden platforms had been reinforced and raised into sparring stages, their surfaces polished but sturdy enough to withstand the clash of youthful ferocity.
Rows of clan members filled the edges of the field, their murmurs and excited chatter weaving into a vibrant hum. Merchants, outer servants, and even townsfolk had gathered outside the clan walls, craning necks to catch a glimpse of the event. For the Lin Clan, the Martial Gathering was not a mere spectacle; it was tradition, pride, and the proving ground where seeds of genius revealed themselves.
On the raised pavilion at the far end, the elders of the clan sat in solemn lines. Robes of deep red and black denoted their rank, while their stern expressions spoke of their responsibility. At the center, the clan head, Lin Yanjun, leaned slightly forward, eyes narrowed with intent. Though he spoke little, his very presence silenced disputes among the lower-ranked elders. And above even him sat the patriarch of the Lin Clan, Lin Zhenhai, his aura calm yet unfathomable. Though he did not exude his pressure now, all knew he was the single Earth Realm expert of Lutong Town. His existence alone anchored the clan's dominance.
At the base of the stage, referees—senior cultivators of the Qi Refinement Realm—stood ready. They were the impartial guardians of the field, ensuring the duels did not claim lives.
Today's gathering would unfold in two divisions: the older-year youths, those already fourteen and tested a year ago, and the present-year youths, the newly thirteen. For the Lin Clan, this distinction was crucial. By the time a youth reached fifteen, most would already step into Qi Refinement. That threshold marked the end of childhood and the beginning of true cultivation.
The first bell rang. A hush swept across the martial field.
---
The Battles Begin
A referee stepped forward, his voice carrying across the field.
"First division—the older-year youths—step forth!"
From among the crowd, over a dozen figures emerged. These were the clan's fourteen-year-old disciples, already hardened by a year of cultivation and training. Their gazes were sharp, shoulders squared. They bowed formally toward the pavilion before mounting the platform.
"These ones… they've already tasted the bitterness of the Body Tempering Realm," an elder muttered. "Look at their strides—confident, full of strength."
The first match was called. Two youths, both at the middle stage of Body Tempering, faced one another.
The referee raised his hand. "Begin!"
With a cry, one charged, fists sheathed in the Iron-Bone Fist Technique, his strikes heavy as thunder. The other shifted lightly, using the Flowing Cloud Steps, weaving between the blows before retaliating with a sharp kick. The platform rang with every clash, dust rising in spurts.
The crowd erupted.
"Good form!"
"His footwork is too shallow, he'll be cornered!"
On the pavilion, an elder stroked his beard. "Decent mastery for their age. The Iron-Bone Fist strengthens the body, but the Flowing Cloud Steps are harder to maintain under pressure. Let us see who falters first."
The battle ended after dozens of exchanges. The boy with the fist technique landed a decisive blow, sending his opponent staggering out of bounds. Cheers shook the field.
One by one, the matches continued. Each duel showcased a different yellow-tier technique—palms as sharp as blades, whirling staff strikes, bursts of agile movement. Dust clouds rose and settled, the air filled with the smell of sweat and the metallic tang of blood.
---
By the third and fourth duels, the pace intensified. Some contestants revealed themselves to be already at the late stage of Body Tempering, their strength clearly superior. Every clash cracked the wooden stage, drawing gasps from the crowd.
A boy named Lin Huoyan faced off against a girl called Lin Yao. Both were well-known among the older year. Huoyan roared, unleashing the Crimson Tiger Strike, his arms lashing like claws. Lin Yao countered with the Stone-Breaking Palm, her hands firm and precise.
The clash of fist and palm sent ripples through the air, and the crowd cried out in awe. Even the elders murmured.
"Stone-Breaking Palm… steady and forceful. This girl has practiced diligently."
"But Huoyan's ferocity is unmatched. At this rate, he will overpower her."
Yet Lin Yao endured, her footwork anchoring her like a mountain. Blow after blow, she absorbed his attacks, then launched a counter-strike that forced Huoyan to stumble back. Though Huoyan ultimately regained control and won the bout, the crowd erupted into equal applause for both.
Names began to rise in whispers, repeated across the field: Huoyan, Yao, Zhen… These were the bright sparks of the older year, their reputations already being etched into the clan's collective memory.
---
The atmosphere shifted with the next bout. The referee called out the name: Lin Zhen, a quiet youth with a cold expression. He stepped onto the platform, his movements calm, almost subdued. His opponent, another strong late-stage youth, sneered confidently.
At the signal, the battle commenced. The late-stage boy roared forward, fists flying with the Rock-Crushing Smash. But Lin Zhen's response was chilling. With a single step, his body surged with force far beyond what should have been possible. His strike landed like an iron hammer.
The opponent was sent flying, blood spraying from his lips as he crashed into the platform's edge. Gasps rang out, the referee immediately stepping in.
"Enough! Victory to Lin Zhen!"
The air quivered. Elders leaned forward, murmuring in unison.
"He's already reached the peak of Body Tempering…"
"At only fourteen?"
"This… this child may cross into Qi Refinement before the end of the year."
The crowd buzzed with awe and unease. Reaching the peak at this age was rare, almost unheard of. It signified not only talent, but the possibility of breaking through before adulthood.
The clan head, Lin Yanjun, narrowed his eyes, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Interesting… very interesting."
The patriarch, Lin Zhenhai, said nothing, but his gaze lingered on the boy a moment longer.
---
The duels continued, but the revelation of Lin Zhen's cultivation had shifted the atmosphere. Every battle that followed was measured against that standard.
One elder whispered, "Our clan's foundation is secure. With talent like this, the future generations will thrive."
Another muttered in return, "But will it be enough, with rival clans lurking like wolves beyond our gates?"
From the crowd came similar remarks. "That Zhen boy… monstrous."
"But can Lin Ming outshine him? And what of Lin Xun, that one with the strange roots?"
The names of Lin Ming and Lin Xun, though absent from this section, still floated across the field like sparks waiting to ignite.
---
After several more matches, the older-year division came to a close. The referee raised his hand, declaring the conclusion of the first segment. The youths bowed and stepped down, their faces flushed with exhaustion but also pride.
"Their ferocity is not bad," one elder judged. "The late stage and even the peak among them… this year has produced fine seedlings."
"True, but seedlings must be nurtured—or they will wither."
The referee called for a brief recess. Servants hurried forward, sweeping the stage, repairing cracks in the wooden planks, and ensuring the field was ready for the next round.
Excitement rippled through the onlookers. The older year had shown impressive battles, but now anticipation shifted to the next division—the present-year youths, those just tested.
Already, whispers grew louder.
"This is where Lin Ming will shine."
"And that Lin Xun… is it true what they say? Five elements? Hah, ridiculous. Let's see what he can actually do."
"If it is true, then we may be watching history."
The atmosphere thickened with expectation. Elders straightened in their seats, clan head and patriarch alike fixing their gaze on the grounds below.
The referee stepped forward once more, his voice cutting through the buzz.
"Next— the present-year division will begin!"
The crowd erupted in cheers. The stage was set.