The final tournament was no longer entertainment—it was judgment.
Inner disciples packed the arena, whispering nervously as Li Shen stepped forward. His presence alone felt oppressive, as if something ancient walked among them.
His first opponent attacked without warning, unleashing a flurry of sword strikes. Li Shen dodged effortlessly, countering with a palm strike that sent the disciple skidding unconscious across the stone.
Match after match ended the same way.
No wasted motion.
No cruelty.
Only inevitability.
By the time Li Shen reached the final round, the atmosphere had turned suffocating.
His opponent, Lin Hao, clenched his fists, eyes bloodshot. "I won't lose to a monster."
Lin Hao unleashed a forbidden technique, burning his own life force to amplify his Qi. The arena trembled. Elders stood up in alarm.
Li Shen felt pressure crash into him like a tidal wave.
Something inside his chest stirred.
If I hold back… I die.
Jade light erupted from his core.
Behind him, a massive phantom dragon formed, roaring toward the heavens. Its eyes burned with ancient fury.
The shockwave shattered the arena walls.
Lin Hao collapsed, defeated.
The spectators fled in terror.
High above, clouds twisted unnaturally.