Floor 20 was a legend even before Feng set foot on it. Among academy students it was whispered with dread: The Talent Crusher.
A sprawling kilometer of swamp and forest wrapped in an eternal fog, where sight was useless and sound carried wrong. The challenge: clear it within thirty minutes or fail. Few ever did.
And fewer still left without scars.
Into the Silent Swamp
Feng stepped through the portal, boots sinking slightly into damp earth. The air shifted at once—cold, saturated with mist that clung to his skin and dulled his breath. The light dimmed, swallowed by endless fog.
He stilled.
The Qi currents… they're flat? Impossible. Qi is never uniform.
The words of Master Mark rang in his mind: When the world feels too still, beware what hides in the silence.
A spear hissed past his cheek.
Feng ducked reflexively, blade flashing upward to knock aside the second and third that followed. The sound rang sharp against the swamp's muffled quiet.
He pivoted toward the trajectory, but the fog betrayed him—no archer in sight. Just twisting trees, their branches dripping with moisture.
Another whistle—this one from above. He rolled to the side, mud splashing as a spear buried itself deep where he had been.
Feng exhaled. Slowly, deliberately, he closed his eyes.
"Qi Skin."Natural Ki shimmered faintly across his body, a translucent armor.
"Wind Dance—Gale Style." His voice was calm, almost reverent. "Mikadzuki: Release."
Green Qi unfurled around him, forming a circular zone, ten meters across. His heartbeat slowed. His mind sharpened.
Nothing enters this circle without dying.
Whispers in the Mist
From the academy stands, whispers spread.
"He's closing his sight? Blindfold in the swamp too?""Impossible—he'll be skewered."But Lisa leaned forward, her tone quiet yet absolute."No. He's reducing distractions. A ten-meter Qi zone is… unthinkable at his age. Every spear that enters will be cut."
First Contact
The mist stirred.
Six shadows darted through the trees—Lizardmen, humanoid reptiles with scaled limbs and spears poised. Some leapt from raptors, the beasts snarling as claws tore at the mud. Others crouched high above, short bows twanging softly.
The first spear pierced into Feng's circle. His blade moved before thought. Slash. The spear split into two harmless halves.
Another came from behind. Clang. His off-hand blade caught it mid-air.
One after another, the strikes poured in. Feng's circle became a storm of steel. His body flowed in silence, intercepting every intrusion with surgical precision. Not a step wasted. Not a breath misspent.
When the final spear broke against his blades, he turned his focus backward—tracing the path of Qi lingering on the shafts.
There.
He vanished.
Predator Behind the Hunter
In the blink of an eye, Feng appeared behind a lizardman crouched in a tree hollow. The creature hissed in shock, claws scrambling for its bow. Feng's blade cut.
But before steel could bite flesh, the tree itself twisted.
A root snapped up like a living arm, intercepting his slash. Bark split, sap splattered, and the lizardman tumbled away with a hiss.
Feng landed lightly, staring at the pulsing vein of Qi running through the root. Not Water. Not Wind.
Wood Qi.
The fog thickened. Vines began to creep across the ground, serrated leaves dripping with poison. Trees groaned, their branches stretching like limbs, shifting positions to block paths.
And Feng understood.
There's something else here. The Mopane.
The Lure to the Lake
He ran.
Not away, but forward—chasing the threads of Wood Qi as they slithered like veins through the ground. His blades cut vines as they snapped at his ankles, his speed pushing through the mist until the swamp widened into a vast, silent lake.
The water was still as glass. Mist drifted low, reflecting shadows.
On the far bank, thirty lizardmen waited, arrayed in disciplined ranks. Raptors pawed the earth, snarling. In the center, taller than the rest, stood the Chieftain—scaled deep green, robes of woven reeds about his shoulders, staff crowned with a glowing blue gem.
The Water Mage.
At his gesture, ripples spread across the lake. The surface stirred, currents pulling unnaturally.
From the academy stands, Maria muttered, "Thirty… plus the environment itself. That's a death field."
Professor Kael's brow furrowed. "And the Mopane has yet to reveal itself. He's being funneled into a kill-box."
Lisa's eyes narrowed, her voice low."This is the test that breaks pride. The Talent Crusher doesn't measure strength—it measures how long your arrogance survives."
The Trap Springs
Behind Feng, the trees closed. Massive trunks shifted, roots writhing into walls. His retreat vanished.
The fog thickened further until only the lake and the army before him remained.
Feng Jian stood still, blades pointed downward. Mist curled around his boots, green Qi whispering against the suffocating silence.
He lifted his head.
So be it.
The forest creaked. The lizardmen hissed in unison. The chieftain raised his staff.
The Talent Crusher had begun.
✨ End of Chapter 14 ✨