Corrupted tournaments

The spiritual energy that would usually refuse to buckle unless forced to do so was now flowing seamlessly through Mia's body. 

Every strike of her fist or foot against the training pillar would add to her Qi's momentum. 

Soon, every last of her moves turned in tune with the natural flow of her inner energy. Every twist, every contraction of the muscle, or attack itself would be just a part of the melody rang by Mia's power. 

'It's all working now,' Mia thought, immersed in her training way more than she normally would. 'It's like adding oil to a burning plate,' Mia realized, lost in the fervor of striking the stone before her.

Strike, strike, strike and strike. Mia's Qi continued to converge on one point, condensing well beyond any reason. 

For every bit of energy lost in the condensation, the more spiritual force would flow into Mia's veins, nourishing her body back to the perfect shape.