The skies above East Sea City had been growing darker for days.
The humidity clung to skin like invisible mist, the air itself thick with pressure. Out in the distance, over the sea, clouds had begun to churn—towering masses of gray and blue, spinning like ancient titans stirring in their sleep.
It was just past dawn when the announcement came.
Every student at East Sea Academy heard it.
The voice crackled through the crystal speakers mounted along the walls of the dormitory hallways, lecture chambers, and even the arena itself.
"Attention. Due to the incoming typhoon, all scheduled classes are canceled for the next week. Students are advised to remain within shelter during storm surges and avoid coastal districts. The final match of the Class Promotion Tournament will be delayed. It will now take place one week from today."
Silence followed the announcement.
Then a loud, victorious cry broke the stillness.
"YES!"
It came from Xie Xie, who had burst out of his room half-dressed, his twin daggers strapped awkwardly across his waist as he leaned against the railing of the dorm stairwell with a grin.
"An extra week!" he laughed, doing a little hop. "An entire extra week! Oh, Spirit Gods, you've answered my prayers!"
Behind him, a sleepy Tang Wulin stepped out of the same room, rubbing his eyes.
"Did you actually pray?"
Xie Xie smirked. "No. But I'm going to now."
The news spread quickly.
The storm would be intense—one of the worst in years, from the looks of it—but for many students, it meant one thing:
Time.
Time to breathe.
Time to recover.
Time to train.
Qiang Ming stood on the rooftop of the dormitory, staring at the horizon as the first gusts of typhoon-born wind swept through his silver hair.
He didn't smile.
But his eyes gleamed with anticipation.
He hadn't fought in the last few matches. Not with his team. Not in unity.
But now, finally, that moment was coming.
The First Class. The top of their year.
All of them were rank 20 and above. Dual-ringed. Experienced. Pressured into a higher tier since the day they joined.
This, Qiang Ming thought, will be the real test.
His hammer pulsed in his soul sea.
Not with restlessness.
With readiness.
In the training arena, Xie Xie was already in motion.
He ran drills alone—over and over—circling shadows, practicing dagger forms, alternating between his Light Dragon and Shadow Dragon skills with more finesse than ever before.
He didn't have Gu Yue's elemental versatility or Qiang Ming's crushing power.
But he had speed.
He had precision.
And he had ambition.
He remembered how the First Class students had stood in the hallway one day, backs straight, voices sharp. He'd seen the glow of two soul rings beneath each of their feet. Had heard one of them scoff as Class 5 walked by.
He remembered how his hands clenched.
Now he was just barely behind them.
He could feel it.
The edge of breakthrough.
And it would be his.
Elsewhere, in the privacy of their forging room, Tang Wulin sat in deep meditation.
His expression was pained, brow furrowed, sweat glistening on his forehead despite the breeze flowing through the cracked window.
Inside him, something ancient stirred.
His breath came in short gasps. His body trembled.
Then—
CRACK.
It wasn't sound. It wasn't physical.
It was spiritual.
The first seal on his bloodline—on the Golden Dragon King's power—had fractured.
He cried out, eyes flashing gold for the briefest moment, the pain surging through his limbs like magma, like ice, like lightning compressed into his veins.
He nearly collapsed.
But he didn't.
He endured.
And when he opened his eyes again—chest heaving, fingers clawed into the bedding—his soul power had changed.
He was now Rank 13.
His path had begun.
The days passed in a strange rhythm.
The typhoon swept over the city, rattling windows and flooding low roads, but the academy held firm. Their wards and structures kept the worst of the storm at bay.
Inside, training continued.
Xie Xie was often seen running laps in the halls, pushing his stamina past its limit.
Gu Yue sat beneath stormlight, refining her transitions between elements—faster, sharper, more fluid.
Tang Wulin slept. Ate. Meditated. Repeated. The first seal had changed something in him. His body ached with power not yet mastered.
And Qiang Ming?
He trained in silence.
Footwork.
Breathing.
Hammer arcs.
He sparred with shadows and memories—especially of Wu Zhangkong, whose brutal night sessions had left him covered in bruises more than once.
Yet now, those bruises were less frequent.
He'd learned.
He'd grown.
Then, on the sixth day, just as the clouds began to part—
Xie Xie broke through.
It happened during a meditation session.
His soul rings ignited around him like twin serpents—two yellow, brilliant and new.
He opened his eyes, blinked in stunned joy—and ran, shouting, through the halls.
"I DID IT!"
He barreled into Tang Wulin's room, tackled him with a hug, then ran into the training courtyard, spun Gu Yue in a circle before she could protest, and then looked around wildly.
"Where's Ming?! I need to—"
"You already tackled me once this week," Qiang Ming said behind him, not even looking up from his meditative position.
Xie Xie grinned. "This one's justified."
"No."
"Party pooper."
The day of the match finally arrived.
The arena gates were opened.
The clouds had cleared.
Students gathered by the hundreds. Teachers lined the observation towers.
Wu Zhangkong stood quietly at the side of the entrance tunnel, arms folded.
Qiang Ming was there. So was Xie Xie. Gu Yue stood a step behind, eyes calm, staff in hand.
But Tang Wulin—
"...Where is he?" Xie Xie asked, eyes darting.
Gu Yue frowned.
"He'll make it," Qiang Ming said.
"I'm not so sure—"
THUD THUD THUD THUD
Footsteps echoed through the entrance tunnel—
And then Wulin appeared, panting, clothes only half-buttoned, scarf lopsided.
"I'm here!" he gasped, hands on knees. "I'm here, I'm here…"
Wu Zhangkong raised a brow.
"You're late."
"Better than not showing," Wulin panted.
Qiang Ming smirked.
Gu Yue nodded.
Xie Xie punched Wulin lightly in the arm.
"Showtime."
Together—
The four stepped forward, the gates rising before them.
And ahead?
The First Class waited.