Jin stood at the edge of the sprawling tournament grounds, his stomach a churning mess of nerves and spiritual Qi. The sun beat down on the central arena, a massive stone platform where the sect's most promising disciples would face off for glory, fame, and a chance at the coveted spot on the Inner Sect's ranking list. Jin, the former sweeper, was a participant. The very thought of it felt like a cruel joke. He still had a vivid image of Lin Ming's terrified face from the previous day and the Elders' panicked bows, but it did nothing to soothe his anxiety. He was a fraud, and this tournament was where his masquerade would finally come crashing down.1
Relax, darling. They're just mortals. You used to create entire galaxies for fun. The system's voice, a calm and melodious hum in his mind, was no comfort.
"I don't remember any of that," Jin muttered back, his eyes darting around at the throng of disciples. They weren't just looking at him now; they were whispering. Every one of them, from the arrogant elites in their pristine robes to the nervous outer disciples, was stealing glances, a mix of awe and fear in their eyes. His reputation as the 'Hidden Master of the Misty Peaks' had already spread like wildfire.3
I know you don't. That's the entire point. But trust me, your instincts remember. Now, stand up straight. A King never slouches.
Jin straightened his back, his shoulders tense. He felt a faint surge of power in his meridians, a ghost of the sensation from the pill. It felt... good. But it was fleeting, a small comfort in a sea of overwhelming pressure. He was a Qi Condensation realm cultivator, the lowest level here. The rest of the competitors were at the very least in the Foundation Establishment realm, with many aiming for the Golden Core.4
The blare of a ceremonial horn signaled the start of the tournament. The Sect Master, a dignified man with a long white beard, stood in the central pavilion. He called out the names of the first two competitors. A series of thunderous clangs and flashes of spiritual light echoed across the arena as the first matches began.
Jin's mind was a whirlwind of panic. "I'm going to lose. What will happen then? They'll find out I'm a nobody."
They will not. The tournament will unfold exactly as I have planned it. You have to win your first match. I will help you. Trust me, I know what I'm doing. A new quest has been generated.
Jin frowned at the screen. A single move? He wasn't a powerhouse. And what was Soul Manifestation anyway? He was about to question the system when another name boomed across the arena.
"Next! Young Master Lin against… Disciple Jin!"
The crowd erupted into a murmur of shock and excitement. Young Master Lin, the very man who had shattered Jin's jade pendant, was his first opponent. The sneer on Lin's face was replaced by a look of sheer, unadulterated shock. He had assumed his brother, Lin Ming, had scared the living daylights out of Jin, but here he was, standing in the arena. Lin Ming, who was seated in the inner disciple stands, looked at his brother with a pale, worried expression, trying to subtly mouth "Don't." But Young Master Lin, arrogant and blind, couldn't see the terror that had consumed his brother's heart.
"You! How dare you show your face here?" Young Master Lin roared, leaping into the arena. He was a picture of refined grace, his spiritual Qi flaring brightly. He raised his hand, a powerful formation of earth and stone forming a fist in the air. "I'm going to teach you a lesson for daring to defy me!"
Jin's legs felt like jelly. He could barely muster a tenth of the Qi that Lin had just displayed. He was a sitting duck. He closed his eyes, bracing for the inevitable humiliation.
He's still a bully, isn't he? I remember him from before. He's always been trouble. The system's voice was now sharp, filled with an ancient, possessive fury. I'm going to teach him a lesson he will never forget. Watch this, darling.
Jin felt a sudden, strange sensation. Not a flood of power like before, but a shift. It was as if his Qi, his very essence, had been momentarily replaced by something else, something far older and more powerful. He opened his eyes and saw Lin's spiritual fist barreling towards him. He didn't have time to react.
In that same instant, the spiritual fist, a solid construct of pure energy, began to unravel. Its form twisted and broke apart, not with a sound, but with a silent, terrifying ripple. It didn't explode. It simply unmade itself. The spiritual Qi flowed back into the air, and the stone fist disappeared as if it had never existed.
The crowd went silent. Young Master Lin froze, his jaw hanging open. He hadn't even reached Jin, yet his most powerful attack had been… negated. Just like that.
But that was not all.
The system was not done. A new panel, a private, personal one, appeared in Jin's mind.
Jin, baffled by the instructions, simply stared at Lin. A small, confused pout formed on his lips. To the onlookers, this was the ultimate sign of a hidden master's disdain. He hadn't moved. He hadn't lifted a finger. He simply looked at Young Master Lin, and with a single, profound glance, he had unmade his attack. The bewildered look on Jin's face was interpreted as his disappointment that his opponent was so weak.
"This... this is the Divine Law of Deconstruction! Only a God King can perform such a feat!" Elder Han cried out, his voice hoarse with a mix of excitement and absolute dread. The other elders, who had been watching with casual indifference, were now on their feet, their eyes wide with disbelief.
Young Master Lin, who had been about to unleash another attack, felt a spiritual coldness wash over him. His body felt heavy, his dantian was sealed, and he was completely unable to channel his Qi. He looked down and saw his spiritual power being drained, not by an attack, but by a subtle, unseen force. He had been nerfed. He was a sitting duck. It was then that the terrifying message appeared in his mind. The System's private note to Lin: You thought you could touch my husband? I will personally ensure your cultivation stagnates for a hundred years. 5
Young Master Lin collapsed to his knees, his face ashen. He had been completely, utterly crushed. Jin, seeing him fall, walked over, and offered a hand. "Are you okay? Did something happen to your leg?"
The crowd, seeing this act of 'benevolence', went wild. They thought Jin was showing mercy to his pathetic opponent. A voice from the crowd, a well-known inner disciple, shouted out, "He sealed his cultivation with a single gaze! What immense power!"
Told you it would be fun, the system's voice murmured in Jin's mind. Now, just walk away. Don't say anything. They'll figure it out.
Jin did as he was told. He turned and walked away, completely unaware that he had just won his first match without even throwing a punch, and without realizing that he now had a new, terrifying ability that he had no idea how to use. He was, to everyone else, a legend in the making. He was, to himself, a fraud on a very strange and confusing journey to nowhere.1