The first thing Tianhai felt upon waking was the lingering heat in his meridians. It wasn't the usual warmth of Qi circulation, but something deeper—denser. His body ached in places he didn't even realize could ache, the aftereffects of pushing himself past his limits the previous night.
Blinking against the morning light filtering through the paper screen, he exhaled slowly, memories of the prior evening settling over him like mist.
The elder's voice still echoed in his mind.
"This technique chooses its wielder. Few have ever succeeded in grasping it, and even fewer have survived its backlash."
It had been a moment of clarity, of undeniable connection. When he stood before the technique scroll, his Qi had responded instinctively, as if recognizing something familiar. The elder, watching from the shadows, had been silent for a long time before finally nodding.
"You have potential, boy. But potential means nothing without control."
Control. That was the key.
Tianhai sat up, rubbing his temple before shifting his gaze to his right hand. No mark. No strange sensation. Yet the memory of the previous night lingered—Jian Xuan's firm voice, the unshaken resolve in his eyes, the way their Qi had momentarily intertwined.
His fingers curled into a fist.
Now wasn't the time to think about that. Today, he had a fight to win.
The sect's dueling arena was packed. The competition had drawn countless disciples, all eager to prove themselves. Tianhai stood in the center, stretching his limbs as his opponent entered.
Xue Wei.
A hush fell over the audience as the two rivals faced off. Tianhai's heartbeat remained steady. He had expected this matchup sooner or later.
Xue Wei smirked, his stance relaxed but confident. "You've come far, but don't think for a second that you're my equal."
Tianhai didn't respond. Instead, he inhaled slowly, feeling the energy coiling in his core. His breakthrough had solidified his control over Qi Condensation, but he knew better than to underestimate Xue Wei, who had been at this stage longer.
"Begin!"
Xue Wei moved first, vanishing from view in a burst of speed. Tianhai barely had time to sidestep before a palm strike came inches from his ribs. He twisted his body, deflecting the blow with his forearm, but the force sent a tremor up his arm.
Strong. But not unexpected.
Tianhai retaliated with a sweeping strike of his own, forcing Xue Wei back. Their movements blurred as they exchanged blows—Qi flaring, feet shifting, neither willing to give ground.
Then Xue Wei's Qi surged, and Tianhai recognized the technique instantly.
"Whispering Phantom Steps."
The moment Xue Wei activated it, his form flickered unpredictably, leaving afterimages in his wake. The arena swarmed with illusions, each one striking at a different angle.
Tianhai's mind sharpened. He had seen this technique before. He knew its flaw.
Closing his eyes, he tuned out everything but the energy fluctuations in the air.
A breath. A shift.
His sword flashed.
A sharp clang rang through the air as Tianhai's blade connected with something solid. Xue Wei staggered back, his real body disrupted mid-movement.
The audience murmured in disbelief.
Tianhai exhaled, his focus unwavering. "Illusions mean nothing if your Qi betrays you."
Xue Wei's smirk faltered before twisting into something darker. "Fine. Let's stop playing around."
With a flick of his wrist, a silver talisman flared in his palm.
Tianhai tensed.
A forbidden technique.
Xue Wei crushed the talisman, and the air warped. Black tendrils of Qi burst from the ground, latching onto his body. His presence swelled, the very force of his aura pressing down on the arena.
Tianhai's breath caught. This was different. Dangerous.
The elder's voice echoed in his mind once more.
"If you cannot control this skill, it will devour you."
Now was the time to test it.
Tianhai's stance deepened, his Qi spiraling inward before rushing outward in a concentrated burst.
He lifted his palm. The technique ignited.
"Heaven-Sealing Talon."
A sharp, tearing sound split the air.
The moment Tianhai activated the skill, a shadow of energy coiled around his fingers, forming razor-like extensions. They shimmered, absorbing the surrounding Qi before solidifying into something tangible.
Xue Wei hesitated for the first time.
Tianhai moved.
His speed doubled, no, tripled in an instant. Each step cracked the stone beneath his feet as he closed the distance. He struck.
Xue Wei barely had time to raise his defenses before the talon slashed through the black tendrils binding him. The forbidden Qi dispersed as if repelled, unable to resist the force of the technique.
The audience gasped.
Xue Wei stumbled, eyes wide. "What—"
Tianhai didn't let him finish. He pivoted, channeling the last of his Qi into a final strike. The air howled as the Heaven-Sealing Talon descended.
Xue Wei raised his arms to block—too late.
A deafening boom rocked the arena.
When the dust settled, Xue Wei was on his knees, panting. His sleeves were shredded, blood dripping from thin, precise cuts along his arms. Tianhai stood above him, breath steady, unwavering.
Silence stretched over the arena before the elder overseeing the match finally spoke.
"Tianhai wins."
The words echoed, and then—an uproar.
Tianhai closed his eyes, exhaling slowly.
He had won.
Yet, as the power of the Heaven-Sealing Talon faded from his fingertips, he couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper had awakened within him. Something he didn't yet understand.
As he turned his gaze toward the audience, his eyes met Jian Xuan's.
The elder's expression was unreadable, but in his gaze, Tianhai recognized something unmistakable.
Pride.
And something else. Something neither of them could name.
But for now, Tianhai let the weight of victory settle over him.
This was only the beginning.