The First True Battle

The battlefield fell silent.

Xian Ye stood before Feng Jiao, his grip firm on the blunt training blade he had chosen.

His first fight had been nothing. A warm-up.

But this?

This was different.

Feng Jiao wasn't just strong—he was chosen. A Peak Outer Sect disciple, one step away from ascending into the Inner Sect.

And he wasn't here to just fight.

He was here to crush Xian Ye.

The smirk on his face said as much.

"You've been making waves, Xian Ye."

Feng Jiao casually spun his iron staff in one hand, the heavy metal humming through the air.

"People are saying you're different now. Stronger. Smarter."

He slammed the end of the staff into the ground, cracking the stone beneath them.

"I don't believe in rumors."

He raised his weapon, eyes sharp.

"So show me."

The challenge was set.

The battle began.

The First Exchange

Feng Jiao moved first.

A burst of speed—faster than anyone Xian Ye had faced so far.

The iron staff came down like a meteor, splitting the air with sheer force.

Xian Ye's body reacted on its own.

Unseen Step.

A blur of movement—he wasn't there when the staff hit.

The ground exploded beneath the impact, stone fragments scattering like shrapnel.

Feng Jiao's eyes flickered in surprise.

But he didn't hesitate.

He twisted mid-motion, swinging the staff sideways toward Xian Ye's ribs.

Fast.

But not fast enough.

Xian Ye's blade moved to intercept.

Metal met metal.

A deafening clang rang through the battlefield as the two weapons clashed.

The force of the impact rippled through Xian Ye's arm. A normal disciple would have lost their grip—maybe even broken bones.

But Xian Ye barely shifted.

Feng Jiao's smirk faltered.

"That strength..."

Xian Ye countered.

He twisted his blade, redirecting the force and stepping inside Feng Jiao's range.

A perfect opening.

He struck.

A single blow—fast, precise.

His fist connected with Feng Jiao's chest.

The impact sent the larger disciple skidding backward, boots carving trenches in the dirt.

For the first time, Feng Jiao looked serious.

"Hah. Not bad."

He exhaled, rolling his shoulders.

"Then let's stop holding back."

Unleashing the Beast

Feng Jiao shifted his stance.

The air around him changed.

It was subtle—just a whisper of Qi activation.

A technique.

"Steel Body Technique—First Gate."

Xian Ye's eyes narrowed.

Feng Jiao's muscles tightened, his skin taking on a faint metallic sheen. His aura expanded, pressure radiating outward.

"Let's see you stop this."

He attacked.

This time, it was different.

Faster. Heavier. Stronger.

Xian Ye raised his blade just in time—but the impact was brutal.

He was sent sliding backward, his grip tightening to absorb the shock.

"His Qi is reinforcing his strikes."

Feng Jiao smirked.

"You're good without Qi."

"But let's see how far that gets you."

He rushed forward again.

The ground cracked beneath his steps. His staff blurred through the air—a rapid barrage of strikes, each blow heavier than the last.

Xian Ye's world slowed.

His instincts screamed.

He moved.

Unseen Step.

Weaving through the attacks, dodging by millimeters, feeling the wind of each strike pass just barely over his skin.

But—he wasn't fast enough.

A single misstep.

A single opening.

Feng Jiao exploited it instantly.

The iron staff struck home.

A direct hit.

Pain exploded through Xian Ye's side as he was sent flying.

He hit the ground hard, rolling once before stopping in a crouch.

Dust settled.

Silence.

Feng Jiao let out a breath.

"That should've broken something."

But then—Xian Ye stood up.

Without hesitation.

Without pain.

And for the first time, Feng Jiao looked unsure.

"…What the hell are you?"

A Glimpse of the Past

Xian Ye pressed a hand to his ribs.

No fractures. No broken bones.

His body had taken a direct hit from a Qi-enhanced strike—and barely felt it.

"This isn't normal."

The sigil on his chest pulsed.

And suddenly—he understood.

This strength… this resilience…

It wasn't new.

It was old.

A piece of something that had once been his.

Something returning.

He looked at Feng Jiao, his expression unreadable.

Then, he raised his blade again.

"You should've hit harder."

Feng Jiao's eyes widened.

Then—he laughed.

"Finally."

He gripped his staff tighter, his stance lowering.

"Let's get serious."

The fight was only beginning.