The Mission Hall held its breath.
No one spoke. No one moved. Even the low murmur that once filled the space had died, leaving behind a suffocating stillness. At its center stood Li Wei, a single jade slip now resting in his hand, as if the storm had already passed.
But storms did not end so quietly.
They broke.
Without warning—
Jin Lei moved.
It was not a shout. Not a challenge. Not even a warning glance.
Only a sudden shift of intent.
Cold. Sharp. Hidden beneath the surface like a blade drawn in silence.
Then—
He struck.
His palm surged forward, wrapped in dense Foundation Establishment Qi. The air around it warped under pressure, a low hum trailing its path as it cut toward Li Wei's back with ruthless precision.
This was no test.
No lesson.
There was killing intent in it—subtle, but real.
A strike meant to end more than pride.
A gasp rippled through the hall.
"He—!"
"That's—!"
Too late.
The palm landed.
THUD.
The sound echoed—heavy, solid… wrong.
Li Wei did not move.
Not a step.
Not even the sway of cloth.
His figure remained as it was—still, upright—like a mountain rooted into the earth itself. The force that should have shattered bone, disrupted meridians, sent him crashing forward—
Disappeared.
Swallowed.
As though it had struck something that did not acknowledge its existence.
Silence followed.
Deeper than before.
Jin Lei's expression stiffened.
For a heartbeat, he didn't understand.
His palm was still pressed against Li Wei's back—but what he felt beneath it was not flesh.
It was resistance.
Absolute.
Unyielding.
As if he had struck forged metal.
"No…"
His eyes widened slightly.
Instinct screamed.
Withdraw.
But he was too slow.
Li Wei's hand moved.
Not fast.
Not urgent.
Just inevitable.
His fingers closed around Jin Lei's wrist.
And tightened.
The world seemed to shrink around that single point of contact.
Jin Lei's breath caught violently in his throat.
The grip—
It was crushing.
Not forceful in a wild, explosive way—but dense, controlled… inescapable. The bones in his arm groaned instantly, his meridians buckling under the pressure that seeped through skin, through muscle, straight into the core of his being.
It felt like being seized by something ancient.
Something that did not break.
Something that only broke others.
Li Wei turned his head slightly.
Just enough for the edge of his profile to be seen.
His expression was calm.
Too calm.
Within him, a quiet thought passed.
So this is the result…
The Divine Overlord Body Refining Art…
Then—
He squeezed.
CRACK.
The sound was sharp. Clean.
Merciless.
Jin Lei's hand collapsed under the pressure, bones fracturing inward as if crushed by an unseen vice. Pain exploded through him, raw and immediate.
He tried to scream—
But the sound never fully came.
Because Li Wei had already moved.
He released the broken arm—
Stepped forward—
And raised his hand.
There was no buildup.
No technique.
Just a simple motion.
A slap.
But the force behind it—
Was overwhelming.
BOOM.
The impact detonated through the hall.
Jin Lei's body was torn from the ground, flung backward like a rag caught in a storm. He crashed through a wooden pillar, splinters bursting outward, before slamming into the stone wall beyond with bone-rattling force.
Dust rose.
Debris scattered.
Then—
Silence.
His body slid down slowly.
Unconscious before it touched the floor.
The Mission Hall stood frozen.
No one breathed.
No one dared.
What they had witnessed was not a clash.
Not even a fight.
It was a verdict.
Delivered without effort.
A Foundation Establishment cultivator had attacked—
And had been crushed in return like something fragile.
Li Wei did not look back.
He adjusted his sleeve slightly, as if brushing away something insignificant.
Then he walked.
Each step steady. Unhurried. Untouched by what had just occurred.
The crowd parted instinctively, opening a path without command. Eyes followed him—not with admiration alone, but with something deeper.
Something colder.
Near the edge of the hall—
Zhuo Hong stood still.
Too still.
The faint smirk he once wore had long since vanished.
In its place—
A tightening in his chest.
A flicker of something unfamiliar.
Because in that moment, he understood.
What stood before them was not simply a genius.
Not merely a prodigy favored by the Sect Master.
It was something else.
Something that did not fit within the neat boundaries of realms and ranks.
Something that turned certainty into illusion.
Something that—
If provoked—
Would not hesitate to break you.
Zhuo Hong's fingers curled slowly at his side.
His eyes followed Li Wei's retreating figure.
And for the first time…
He felt it clearly.
Fear.
Not loud.
Not overwhelming.
But real.
Ahead, sunlight spilled across the stone steps as Li Wei stepped out of the hall, the jade slip still resting quietly in his hand.
Behind him—
Silence lingered like a wound.
And before him—
His hunt awaited.