Back in his former world, there was a group of warriors who could channel raw emotion directly into strength.
They were called Barbarians.
The technique they possessed was known simply as Rage. It allowed their emotions to run wild, far surpassing any delicate strength-boosting spell.
It was a method that made men as strong as monsters, a profound ability passed down through bloodlines for generations; one no mage had ever been able to comprehend.
Attempts had been made to teach it outside the tribes, but none had ever succeeded.
Even now, the secret remained theirs alone.
Wu Meiyi panicked as her sword lodged uselessly against the solid mass of his muscle; the grip of his flesh was too strong!
Wu Han felt a nostalgic thrill, then drove his fist into her with such force that she was hurled across the stage.
BANG!
The impact was so loud that Meiyi felt as if she had been struck by a hammer. Even though she had tried to block it with her sword, the sheer power of the blow made her hand go numb in an instant. Her face turned pale, eyes widening in panic.
But Wu Han didn't give her the chance to gather herself or even understand what had just happened.
He snatched up the spear and charged in with Crouching Viper, a vertical thrust so violent that it tore through her guard and pierced straight into her abdomen.
Blood and flesh burst from the wound. In one motion, the spear went cleanly through her slender body like a pig on a spit. The pain jolted her awake to the cruel reality of the battle.
I'm going to die here!
Meiyi coughed blood and dropped to her knees from the pain.
Wu Han looked around and saw that no one dared to step forward, then he smiled.
He let the burning Qi of Rage dissipate, then circled behind her and pulled the spear free through her back instead of the front; drawing it forward would have destroyed her organs, and he needed her alive.
But not too alive.
"This is thanks for sparing me back then," he said and repaid her kindness in full.
Instead of killing her, he swung once, severing the arm that had wielded her sword.
The crowd gasped, murmuring among themselves, some in shock, others in awe of his strength.
Wu Han bent to pick up the cold-steel sword and slipped it into his storage ring.
"DAMN YOU!!"
Wu Meiyi, coughing blood onto the floor, glared at him with hatred. Her despair twisted into fury. If she was going to die, she would drag him down to hell with her!
"If you plan to burn your dantian, I'll cut your head off."
His voice was flat, reading her mind like an open book.
She froze immediately.
Good girl, he thought.
"It's kind of harsh, isn't it? No one lent you a hand. They wanted you to fight… but when you lost, no one came." Wu Han sat down beside her.
"It's already clear I'm the victor, and they still just watch."
His tone was calm, not mocking. Fighting for one's own belief, he could respect that.
"I'll keep this one as a souvenir. You know where to find it if you want it back."
He tossed the severed limb into his storage ring as well.
Wu Meiyi bit her lip and tried to crawl toward him, but Wu Han grabbed her by the head and drew a mark on her forehead using her own blood.
Rank 1 Magic, Minor Heal.
The bleeding slowed, her torn flesh sealing and her stomach knitting back together, but the arm did not regrow.
And to add even more shame to her defeat, he didn't stop at just healed her.
He lifted her head like a doll and dragged her upright for everyone to see, or worse, for her to see what her "justice" had earned her.
"Look at them," he said coldly. "See how much they support you."
The elders averted their gazes. The other clan members wouldn't meet her eyes.
Those who did… only laughed.
Even her parents couldn't look at her.
This was the price she paid for standing up to him and a lesson for everyone watching, of what awaited those who defied Wu Han.
Rage, shame, regret, vengeance, every emotion she'd ever known, and some she hadn't, flooded her heart.
Yet her mind knew the truth: there was no winning here.
She struggled like a rabid dog, so Wu Han, in all his "kindness", let her go free.
Meiyi gasped, trying to hold herself together, but it was too much.
In the end, she pulled out the clan emblem and crushed it in her fist.
"I renounce the Wu Clan! From this day forward, I am Meiyi!"
She dropped the remains onto the floor and walked out of the trial stage, never to return.
"Is there anyone else who doubts my strength? Feel free to come onto the stage!" Wu Han's voice rang across the hall.
Fighting Meiyi hadn't been only about testing himself; it was a display and a performance meant to silence every question and lure out anyone foolish enough to challenge him.
He could have waited for the Wu Clan Tournament that would begin tomorrow.
But why bother?
Fighting random disciples without benefit would be a waste of time.
From the audience, voices whispered.
"That healing… how did he do it?"
"He must have a powerful secret master teaching him, one skilled in medical arts. No wonder his cultivation soared in just a week!"
"That healing touch… I heard rumors of a miracle doctor visiting Azure Peak. Maybe the young master is connected?"
The murmurs spiraled quickly, but none were hostile.
No one dared step onto the stage; none possessed Meiyi's conviction or excuse to fight.
Most of those gathered were top disciples and officers of the clan.
In strength, only a handful could match Meiyi. In authority, even fewer had the backing to contest Wu Zhen's might.
Which meant that, from this moment forward, Wu Han stood as the strongest within the Wu Clan new generation!
"No challengers? Very well." Wu Han glanced around at the silent faces and leapt back to stand beside his grandfather.
"Are you sure sparing her was wise?" Wu Zhen asked quietly.
Among their generation, Meiyi was not the strongest, but her talent was undeniable.
Now that she had severed ties with the clan, her destination was predictable, the Han Clan.
With her aptitude for Sword Dao, even if it was only at the imitation level for now, she would one day become a troublesome opponent.
"Don't worry, Grandfather," Wu Han said smoothly. "A living enemy is better for training than a dead one. She'll help sharpen my skill."
It was an easy excuse, something to calm the old man, but in truth, Meiyi was already dead in all the ways that mattered.
She just didn't know it yet.
"Your secret master must be powerful and wise, Han'er. You've grown so much." Wu Zhen smiled, pride replacing worry.
Until today, he had never truly witnessed his grandson's strength.
But in a single duel, he had earned respect from every important member of the clan.
Maybe he had planned it, or maybe it was just a side effect, but the result was the same: both he and his grandson now held concrete support from the entire clan.
Whether the members gave it willingly or not didn't matter.
"Indeed, he was," Wu Han said with a smile, because that secret master everyone whispered about was none other than himself.
Hahaha!
"Now, let's finish our business."
The hall fell silent again.
Two figures entered through the great doors.
The first strode forward in a rage so fierce it distorted the air around him.
His face was twisted with grief and fury, his emotions unreadable, only the wild, unstable waves of Qi rolling off him in every step, so heavy that the ground cracked beneath his feet.
Behind him followed a woman, her expression shrouded in shame.
Dressed in pure white though her heart was black as pitch, she kept her eyes to the floor, unable to meet a single gaze.
Each step she took was slow, the steps of someone crushed by guilt.
Only once she crossed the threshold of the hall, trailing behind her husband, did she dare to look up, toward Wu Han.
Her eyes held a fragile hope, as she carried within her the life he had left inside her.
But Wu Han met her gaze with only a stern glance, the look that shattered her weak heart.
"You finally came! What took you so long?!" Wu Zhen's booming voice shattered the tension, his expression bright with delight.
At last, it seemed the prey still had some fight left in it after all!