The morning sun rose over Mount Wujie like a molten spear piercing the heavens.Golden light spilled across the mountain ridges, touching the frost-covered trees and the quiet figures of seven young men standing in stillness.Their breaths were steady, their bodies motionless — seven silhouettes in perfect harmony with the wind.
Behind them, Grandmaster Tian Xu stood with hands clasped behind his back. His robe fluttered faintly, untouched by the chill.
"Lithness is not stillness," he said softly, his voice flowing like a river through the cold air. "It is movement that understands rest. You seven are the living proof that harmony can shape strength."
The disciples bowed silently. Their auras shimmered like rippling light — seven distinct yet connected forces.
Li Wuxin, calm as water, his Heart Sword Box humming faintly with sealed divinity.
Feng Lianyu, fan closed, his presence as elegant as it was dangerous.
Hou Zhan, fiery and alive, qi coiling around his fists like flame.
Jing Ge, upright and grounded, spear's spirit merging with the mountain's rhythm.
Wei Shuren, the Umbrella Maniac, standing in shadow yet radiating balance.
Chen Jianwang, aura sharp enough to split mist apart.
Yue Liuyun, serene and ageless, staff pulsing with quiet light.
They were one breath, one will — disciples of the greatest master in existence.
But peace does not last forever.
The Summons
A streak of light cut through the morning sky, descending toward the courtyard in a blaze of red.The seven instantly turned, senses flaring. The aura within the light was unmistakable — imperial qi, infused with the Emperor's seal.
The light struck the stone courtyard and dispersed into petals of flame. From within emerged a slender messenger dressed in crimson armor. He knelt immediately.
"By decree of His Majesty, the Emperor of the Li Empire — His Imperial Highness Li Wuxin and his brothers in cultivation are summoned to the Celestial Capital."
Li Wuxin stepped forward, receiving the golden scroll sealed with dragon insignia. He broke it open, and a wave of energy rippled outward — even the mountain's ancient stones vibrated.
He read aloud:
"To the disciples of Grandmaster Tian Xu, the pillars of our age — the Empire commands your presence.The Heavenly Martial Tournament has been declared by decree of the Divine Council. Rival nations gather to claim supremacy under Heaven.The honor of our empire rests in your hands."
The messenger bowed deeply, leaving behind the imperial token before vanishing into light once more.
Silence followed. Only the wind whispered between them.
Then Hou Zhan exhaled sharply.
"A tournament, eh? About time we stretch our bones."
Feng Lianyu smiled faintly.
"Stretch them, perhaps. Break them, hopefully not."
Wei Shuren flicked open his umbrella and twirled it lazily.
"The Divine Council… last time they held a tournament, empires fell."
Jing Ge's voice was calm, resolute.
"Then we'll make sure ours doesn't."
Li Wuxin lowered the scroll, his eyes steady.
"Master… the empire calls. Shall we answer?"
Tian Xu looked at them all, the faintest shadow crossing his gaze.
"The world moves in cycles. Even peace must be tested to prove its worth. Go, my students. Show the world the meaning of true harmony."
He turned toward the horizon where the imperial capital lay hidden beyond clouds.
"But remember this — victory won through pride is as hollow as defeat. Win not for glory… but for balance."
Seven bowed as one.
"We understand, Master."
Journey to the Capital
Three days later, the sky blazed with crimson clouds as the Seven Formidable Youths descended from Mount Wujie. Their movement was light as feathers; even the leaves beneath their feet barely stirred. They moved like flowing qi — swift, invisible, unstoppable.
On the second night, they camped beside the Azure Mirror Lake, where moonlight shimmered across water like molten silver.
Feng Lianyu sat upon a rock, fan resting on his knee.
"The empire's capital…" he said softly. "It's been years since I've seen those golden walls."
Hou Zhan leaned back on a log.
"Last time I was there, they kicked me out for punching a minister."
Wei Shuren smirked.
"And yet they're summoning you back. The world must truly be desperate."
"Or wise," Hou Zhan shot back with a grin.
Jing Ge stood by the lake, spear planted in the earth.
"We'll be tested by more than martial skill. Politics, pride, and power — this tournament will decide more than trophies."
Li Wuxin nodded.
"The Heavenly Martial Tournament isn't just a competition. It's a declaration — a measure of which empire deserves Heaven's favor."
Yue Liuyun stirred the fire with his staff.
"Then we must fight not to dominate, but to uphold the world's balance. The empire stands as the heart of civilization — if it falters, chaos will rise."
For a moment, all seven were silent. The wind carried the scent of pine and starlight.
Then Tian Xu's words echoed in their hearts:
"When one moves, all seven shall move. When one falls, all shall rise."
They rested that night with unspoken resolve burning within them.
The Celestial Capital
By the seventh dawn, the great gates of the Celestial Capital came into view — towering structures carved from white jade and gold, guarded by statues of dragons coiled in eternal vigilance.
The city was alive with divine energy. Floating pagodas shimmered above the skyline, and sacred beasts roamed under imperial banners. Everywhere they walked, people bowed — some in reverence, some in awe.
Whispers filled the streets.
"It's them… the Seven Formidable Youths…""Grandmaster Tian Xu's disciples! The empire's living legends!"
Inside the imperial palace, a thousand bells tolled as the Emperor himself awaited their arrival.
The Emperor of Heaven and Earth
Emperor Li Xuanyang, the ruler of the Li Empire, stood beneath the colossal Dragon Throne. His eyes, golden and sharp, seemed to see through time itself. Though he wore the mantle of the mortal world, his presence radiated divine authority — the qi of an emperor chosen by Heaven.
When the Seven entered the hall, even the air bowed before them. They knelt together, foreheads touching marble.
"Your Majesty."
The Emperor smiled faintly, stepping down from his throne. His gaze lingered on his son, Li Wuxin.
"Rise, my son. Rise, my children. The empire is proud."
He walked slowly before them.
"For centuries, our empire has stood as Heaven's beacon. But now, other kingdoms grow bold. The Northern Frost Sect, the Crimson Lotus Kingdom, the Temple of Azure Flame — all claim they have surpassed us."
He turned, his eyes blazing.
"To silence their arrogance, the Divine Council has called the Heavenly Martial Tournament. Each empire shall send its champions to fight beneath Heaven's gaze. You seven shall represent us."
Chen Jianwang rested a hand on his blade, his voice firm.
"We will not fail, Your Majesty."
"Failure," the Emperor said, "is not what I fear. It is the corruption of victory that concerns me. You seven have been trained not to conquer but to protect. Remember that."
Li Wuxin stepped forward, bowing deeply.
"We will fight in harmony with Heaven's will."
The Emperor smiled faintly.
"Spoken like your master. May his wisdom guide you."
The Tournament Arena
Three days later, the Divine Colosseum opened its gates — a colossal floating arena suspended in the sky, carved from starstone and lit by celestial flames.Thousands of cultivators, nobles, and spirits filled the stands. The Divine Council presided above — twelve saints whose qi alone could level cities.
The banners of empires fluttered in the divine wind:Crimson Lotus, Frost Sect, Azure Flame, Iron Pagoda, and at the center — The Li Empire's golden dragon sigil.
The seven stood together on the platform, their robes flowing, their weapons gleaming with restrained power.
A voice like thunder echoed from above.
"Let the Heavenly Martial Tournament begin!"
The ground trembled. From the opposing gates emerged seven warriors clad in silver — champions of the Northern Frost Sect. Their leader carried a halberd of black ice, eyes burning with arrogance.
"So these are Tian Xu's disciples," he sneered. "Legends fade fast when faced with true strength."
Feng Lianyu's fan snapped open, reflecting the light of the sun.
"Legends do not fade. They shine when the world grows dark."
Hou Zhan cracked his knuckles.
"Talk less. Fight more."
Li Wuxin unsheathed the first of the twelve swords from his Heart Box — the Sword of Dawn. Light scattered like water around him.
The Frost Sect warriors charged, divine qi roaring like thunder.The Seven Formidable Youths moved as one.
The Dance of Seven
The first blow shattered the clouds.Chen Jianwang's Dustless Blade cut through the halberd's ice aura, scattering shards across the sky.Hou Zhan's fist met an enemy's spear, the shockwave splintering the arena tiles.Wei Shuren flicked his umbrella, releasing a cascade of hidden blades that deflected arrows midair.Jing Ge spun his spear in a perfect circle, forming a barrier of moonlight that protected his brothers.
Li Wuxin's sword danced — calm, fluid, merciless.Each strike flowed like water, each parry shimmered like mist.
And above all, Yue Liuyun's staff pulsed once — Wujie releasing a wave of divine resonance that silenced all sound.Their movements aligned, rhythm merging into a single breath.Seven hearts, one harmony.
The Frost Sect warriors fell one after another, unable to comprehend the unity before them.
When the last enemy collapsed, silence filled the sky. Then — applause, thunderous and endless.
From the viewing platform, even the Divine Council rose.
"The harmony of Lithness…" one of the Saints whispered. "A technique thought lost to time."
The Emperor stood tall, pride shining in his eyes.Tian Xu, watching from afar within meditation, smiled faintly.
"They understand," he murmured. "They have become one with the flow of Heaven."
The Rising Storm
As the seven stood together, victorious under Heaven's light, the air trembled faintly.Far above, hidden among the stars, a dark ripple spread — faint, unseen.
An ancient force stirred, watching.
The Heavenly Tournament had only begun.And beyond glory and honor… destiny itself awaited the Seven Formidable Youths.