The Hundred Schools Tournament

Weeks turned into a month, and a new rhythm settled over the Sky-Piercing Academy. Amrit, now a Core Disciple, became a figure of legend and myth. His overwhelming victory in the Entrance Tournament and the subsequent stories of his impossible feats had cemented his status. He was no longer just the "boy who broke the stone," but was now referred to in hushed tones as the "Void Prince," a name born from the utter mystery that surrounded his power.

He rarely appeared in public. His days were spent in the seclusion of his villa or the forbidden depths of the Vault of the Unseen. He was a ghost in the system, his presence felt more through his influence than his actions. Prince Valerius, bound by his wager, was forced to report to Amrit's villa once a week. These meetings were brief and humiliating for the proud dragon prince. Amrit did not ask him to perform menial tasks or to grovel. Instead, he would give him complex, almost impossible assignments: "Procure a list of the Draconian Empire's hidden trade routes with the northern kingdoms," or "Provide a detailed analysis of your family's draconic bloodline cultivation method."

He was using his "subordinate" not as a servant, but as a high-level intelligence asset, forcing the prince to leverage his own imperial connections for Amrit's benefit. Each completed task further solidified Amrit's power base and chipped away at Valerius's pride, a far more effective form of servitude than any physical punishment.

Meanwhile, Amrit's study of the Void Sutra deepened his mastery over his own abilities. His Void Perception grew sharper, allowing him to see the world as an intricate tapestry of energy, laws, and concepts. He learned to use his Conceptual Cloaking to move through the Academy completely unseen, a true ghost, gathering information and observing his rivals without their knowledge. He was a spymaster with the ultimate stealth technology.

The Academy, however, was not a place that allowed its geniuses to remain idle. As the first semester drew to a close, a new announcement echoed from the central spire, sending a fresh wave of excitement and ambition through the student body.

It was time for the Hundred Schools Tournament.

This was not an internal trial. It was the Academy's grandest and most prestigious event, held once every three years. The "Hundred Schools" was a colloquialism; in reality, it was an invitation extended to every major sect, kingdom, empire, and reclusive clan on the continent. They would send their finest disciples under the age of twenty-five to compete against the Academy's own students.

It was more than a tournament. It was a political summit, a continental showcase of the next generation's power. Fortunes were won and lost in the betting houses. Alliances were forged and broken. The careers of young geniuses were made overnight, their victories bringing immense honor and tangible rewards to their home factions.

The tournament was divided into two main events: the Alchemical Exposition and the Martial Grand Tournament.

Rohan brought the news to Amrit's villa, his face alight with the city-wide excitement.

"This is it, Amrit! The big one!" he said, pacing the room. "Emissaries are arriving every day. The city is packed. The Alchemical Exposition is first. It's a competition of crafting, pill-concoction, and artifact creation. Yan Tao and the Academy's Alchemists' Guild are determined to reclaim their honor after you… well, you know."

Amrit listened, a calm interest in his eyes. The Exposition was an opportunity to acquire more rare materials and perhaps reveal another, carefully calculated piece of his skill.

"But the main event," Rohan continued, his voice dropping with reverence, "is the Martial Grand Tournament. It's not like the Entrance Trials. The contestants are older, more experienced. We're talking late-stage Spirit Sea masters, geniuses who have been famous for years. They say this year, even the hidden 'monster generation' from the great powers is participating—disciples who are usually kept secret until they are old enough to shake the world."

Amrit understood. This was the true test. The Entrance Trial was a wading pool. This was the ocean.

"Participation is voluntary, but the rewards are immense," Zian added, having joined them. He had become a regular visitor, his scholarly alliance with Amrit deepening. "The winner of the Grand Tournament is not just crowned Champion, but is given a single, priceless treasure from the Academy's deepest vault: a 'Seed of a Minor Law'."

Amrit's attention sharpened. "A Seed of a Minor Law?"

"Yes," Zian confirmed, his eyes gleaming with intellectual fervor. "It's a conceptual artifact, a fragment of a primordial rule of the universe, left over from the world's creation. There are seeds for concepts like 'Sharpness,' 'Weight,' or 'Speed.' If a cultivator can successfully absorb one, they gain a degree of divine authority over that specific concept. A swordsman with the Seed of Sharpness could cut through any defense. A warrior with the Seed of Weight could make his fist strike with the force of a collapsing mountain. It is a direct path to a sliver of godhood."

A path to a sliver of godhood. It was a prize that would make kings and emperors go to war.

Amrit's mind processed the information. This was a power that operated on the same conceptual level as his own. Acquiring one would be a massive boon, allowing him to study the fundamental laws of this reality up close.

"I will participate," Amrit stated simply.

"Of course you will," Rohan laughed. "But it won't be a cakewalk this time. Everyone has been training frantically. And your primary rivals have not been idle."

Zian nodded grimly. "Prince Valerius, despite his service to you, has been seen training in the volcanic caverns, pushing his draconic power to its limits. His humiliation has turned into a terrifyingly focused rage. And Vikramaditya…"

Zian paused. "The Son of Destiny has been doing nothing. He attends lectures, helps junior students, and meditates in the public gardens. But his aura… it grows more profound every day. He is not cultivating his power; he is deepening his harmony with the world. He is becoming more in tune with his own destiny. In a way, he is the most terrifying one of all."

The stage was being set for a much grander conflict. It was a convergence of the continent's brightest stars. Amrit, the Void Prince. Valerius, the Raging Dragon. Vikramaditya, the Son of Destiny. And dozens of other hidden masters and powerful geniuses, all vying for a single prize and the glory that came with it.

The notice for registration appeared on their tokens that evening. The Alchemical Exposition would begin in one week, followed by the week-long Martial Grand Tournament.

Amrit stood in his garden that night, looking out at the city, which was now more vibrant and alive than ever, glittering with the lights of a thousand new visitors. He could feel the new auras, the powerful, ancient energies of the emissaries and their champions. The world had come to the Academy.

He thought of the Seed of a Minor Law. He thought of his vow to cut the strings of fate. To do so, he first had to become a master of the threads. This tournament was the perfect opportunity.

He had spent the last month in quiet study, consolidating his power and understanding his own nature. He had been a ghost, a legend whispered in corridors.

Now, it was time for the ghost to step back into the light. It was time to show the Hundred Schools, and the entire continent, the true nature of the anomaly in their midst. The tournament was not just a competition. It was a declaration. And Amrit intended to make his declaration heard across the heavens.