The moment Xu Ming stepped onto the Bone Forging training grounds, the atmosphere shifted.
At first, no one noticed.
He stood there quietly, holding a plain sword, wearing simple robes with no insignia of clan or lineage. To the seasoned eyes of veteran disciples, he looked like fresh prey.
A tall disciple cracked his neck and walked forward.
"Newcomer," he said lazily. "Hand over your contribution points and crawl off. I'll make it quick."
Xu Ming did not answer.
He adjusted his grip on the sword, breathing steady—five elements circulating in perfect harmony beneath his skin.
The tall disciple scoffed and charged.
He never reached Xu Ming.
Xu Ming stepped aside—just half a pace—and swung.
No flourish.
No shout.
No wasted movement.
The plain sword struck the man's forearm.
CRACK.
Bone snapped cleanly.
The disciple screamed and collapsed, clutching his arm.
Silence rippled outward.
Xu Ming looked down at the fallen man, surprised—not by the violence, but by the ease of it.
So this is real combat, he thought calmly.
Another disciple laughed nervously.
"Lucky hit," he said, stepping forward. "Let me—"
Xu Ming moved first this time.
His foot slammed into the ground, earth qi stabilizing his stance. Fire surged through his muscles. Metal sharpened his strike.
Three breaths.
Three strikes.
The challenger fell unconscious, ribs shattered.
Whispers erupted.
"Bone Forging… but his control—"
"That strength—no, that's not brute force!"
"He's reading movements!"
One by one, challengers stepped forward.
One by one, they fell.
Xu Ming did not kill.
He broke weapons.
Dislocated joints.
Crushed bones—precisely, efficiently.
Each fight refined him further.
Water softened impacts.
Wood repaired microfractures.
Fire pushed him forward.
Earth anchored him.
Metal made his sword unyielding.
Chaos did not clash.
It ruled.
On the viewing platform, elders began to take notice.
"This disciple… which master trained him?"
"He has no clan backing."
"He's using body cultivation—but why does it feel complete?"
Li Chen stood at the edge of the grounds, posture relaxed, gaze lowered.
Inside, he exhaled slowly.
Good. He's not wasting it.
A heavily built senior disciple finally stepped forward, aura thick and oppressive.
"Enough," he growled. "Bone Forging peak. You won't pass me."
Xu Ming raised his sword.
"You're in my way."
The clash shook the platform.
The senior disciple attacked relentlessly, fists like iron hammers. Xu Ming retreated—one step, two—then suddenly advanced.
Metal sharpened his bones.
Fire exploded from his core.
Earth locked his footing.
He struck once.
The senior disciple was flung backward, smashing into a stone pillar and sliding down, unconscious.
Dead silence.
The training grounds erupted.
"He won!"
"Dominated!"
"That's not Bone Forging—that's monstrous!"
Xu Ming stood alone at the center of the arena, chest rising and falling, eyes bright with realization.
This is power, he thought. Power that can protect.
He turned his head slightly.
At the edge of the crowd, Li Chen nodded once.
That was all.
Xu Ming sheathed his sword.
From that day on, the Bone Forging training grounds had a new rule—
Do not provoke the sword carrier.
And somewhere deep within the sect, several elders quietly updated their evaluations.
Xu Ming was no longer trash.
He was a problem.
And problems, in the cultivation world, never went unnoticed for long.