The arena was a vast circular stage suspended high above the cityscape, its edges wrapped in glowing formation lines that pulsed with Qi. Dozens of floating platforms drifted lazily in the void beyond, anchored by streams of condensed spiritual energy that twisted like neon currents. Around the perimeter, students of the Imperial Academy mingled with scions of elite families and disciples from famed sects, their eyes sharp with rivalry, some filled with eagerness, others heavy with nerves.
Elsewhere, far from the roar of the arena, a secluded chamber hummed with quiet power. In the air above a sleek console, a hologram flickered to life materialized The projection showed a distant figure.A gravelly voice came through, calm but edged with
authority—low, deliberate, and impossible to ignore.
"Elder Mochen," the hologram intoned, its voice carrying an undeniable authority. "The task I gave you… did it unfold as intended?"
Elder Mochen—silent, his lined face calm yet tense—bowed slightly under the projection's cold glow, the faintest tremor betraying his fear. The hologram blinked—and then vanished, leaving only the lingering glow fading into darkness.
A booming voice rolled across the arena, freezing every student in place. From a high platform above the battlefield, "I am one of the four Elders of the Academy, Elders spoke, his tone carrying over the entire arena.
"Welcome to the Entrance Battle. Hear this carefully: the rules are simple. Use any technique, any martial skill, any form of inner force. Attack, defend, or manipulate the arena as you see fit. One rule only—no killing. Anyone who breaks this rule will be disqualified and face strict disciplinary measures from the Academy."
A wave of murmurs swept through the crowd. Some stiffened with fear, others bristled with anticipation, while a few whispered about testing the edges of the "no killing" rule. Every gaze was locked on the battlefield—the stakes were nothing less than survival and glory.
"The top ten will receive special resources to accelerate their cultivation," the Elder continued, voice booming like thunder. "And the top three… will earn the right to enter the Academy's Martial Library . Only the truly exceptional may claim this honor."
Students scattered across the floating platforms. Clusters formed in seconds, several groups breaking off to try and recruit Han Xing into a temporary alliance.
A burly youth pushed forward, all swagger and confidence. "Come with us—together we can take out the top families!"
Han's eyes narrowed, cold and precise. "I don't work with weaklings."
The boy's face flushed crimson. "You'll regret this!" he spat, and stormed back to his team.
The gong's final echo had barely faded when the battlefield exploded into motion. A mass of nearly a hundred students surged forward as one, their weapons flashing, techniques igniting, and killing intent barely restrained under the Academy's rules. Dust and qi swirled into a storm, the ground trembling beneath their combined charge.
And at the center of their fury stood Han.
His eyes narrowed, calm yet razor-sharp. He drew a slow breath, shoulders loose, stance coiled like a predator ready to strike. The roar of the mob pressed down on him, a suffocating tide of ambition and rivalry. To them, he was nothing more then a prey. But beneath that calm gaze lurked a predator ready to strike, and the hunters had already become the hunted.
Blades of flame, arcs of lightning, and waves of raw inner force rained toward him in an overwhelming storm. The students sought to crush him under sheer numbers. The first wave of students reached him
Han moved.
With a twist of his body, he slipped past the first strike, palm lashing out like a whip. A student was sent flying, coughing blood before crashing into the ground. Without pausing, Han's foot slammed into the earth—shattering stone, breaking momentum, and forcing the charging mass to scatter.
The air itself quivered under the clash of power.
Another cluster lunged, trying to flank him. Han twisted mid-air, the Weapon Body Art flowing through every movement. Blows deflected off him as he spun, each motion setting him up for a counter.
Lightning Qi crackled along his arms—"Violent Sky Thunder". The weapon formed from pure electricity, an extension of his will, and tore through the air in blinding streaks. Each arc struck with deadly precision, disabling opponents without breaking bones, perfectly obeying the Academy's no-kill rule.
From the sidelines, whispers rose among observers "Did you see that? His speed… his control… the weapon moves as if it has a mind of its own!"
From their elevated platform, the Four Elders' eyes narrowed, each silently analyzing his movements.
"Remarkable…" murmured one, his voice low. "His strikes… every spin and parry… it's not just skill, it's experience. Years of real battle."
Another Elder nodded, frowning slightly. "Yes, he moves like a seasoned warrior, not a student. Every step calculated, every attack controlled. He's no ordinary contender."
The fourth Elder remained silent, watching intently, but the faint crease on his brow betrayed his surprise. Even among the Academy's finest, few had ever displayed such fluid, battle-hardened mastery.
The third Elder spoke, his voice measured. "This year, we seek new talent. That one… he has remarkable potential. If he can make it into the top ten, I will personally take him into my hall to study under me."
Meanwhile, across the arena, glimpses of the top competitors' abilities began to appear:
Lue Zhihao raised his hands, summoning the Giant Bear Palm. The ground trembled with each strike, sending minor students flying like leaves in a storm. His strength was terrifying, even from a distance. Yet… that Han Xing—he moves like he's reading the battlefield itself. If I'm not careful, he could undo all my efforts before I even reach him ."I cannot disgrace the noble name of my family."
Gu Xiulan hovered gracefully, her Qi forming faint, ghostly silhouettes around her. With a flick of her wrist, spiritual energy shot forward, forcing minor students to clutch their heads as their vision blurred. So precise… and his countering techniques… he's not just fast, he predicts attacks before they happen.
Tang Shenyi and Tang Shenmei moved together, leaving greenish mists trailing their paths. The subtle glow of poison Qi made anyone careless stumble, coughing as the toxins weakened their Qi circulation. Hmph. That Han Xing… even with a hundred attacking him, he isn't fazed. He fights like a seasoned veteran, "Seems like he'll be hard to deal with."Tang Shenyi smirked slightly. He's… a little interesting.Tang Shenmei's lips curved in a faint grin. Yes, more than I expected… I want to see him up close.
Tian Jianyu, the Heavenly Sword Sect representative, twirled his blade, sending streaks of sharp wind through a cluster of attacking students. Even the weaker ones flinched from the power. That Han Xing… his movements are fluid, yet every strike carries intent. If he keeps this up, he could match our pace."
Yue Lianhua from the Celestial Moon Sect glided across a platform, her blade movements like petals falling. Spiritual slashes whispered past attackers' defenses, leaving them off-balance and confused. I feel like I've heard that name before… Han Xing… but from where?
"This is only the beginning—it's time to reveal his true strength."
The arena shifted instantly. Platforms rose higher, some spinning, others tilting precariously. A fresh wave of competitors surged forward, more skilled and determined than before.
Han's eyes narrowed, reading the battlefield as he landed lightly on a floating platform. Every movement now counted. He could feel the Qi of dozens of opponents converging, each testing his reflexes, his perception, and his adaptability.
The crowd hushed in anticipation. Phase Two had begun. The real challenge was here—and it would push him far beyond what he had faced so far.
One of the Four Elders stepped forward, his voice carrying across the arena.
"Ten of you have fought your way through countless challengers. Now, the final battle of the Top Ten begins!"
The platforms trembled slightly as the announcement echoed. A tense silence fell over the arena. Every student knew that from this moment, skill, strategy, and willpower would determine who truly belonged at the top.
Han's eyes narrowed, muscles coiling as he prepared. The final phase wasn't just a test of strength—it was a proving ground, and every move would be watched, analyzed, and remembered.
From this moment on, every move would decide who truly deserved the top—and Han Xing was ready to claim it.