Yu Tao'er carried a small medical kit. With practiced, gentle hands, she guided Lin Yun to sit on a nearby stool. She carefully cut away the torn fabric around his shoulder, revealing an ugly, already-purpling bruise and a slight, worrying deformity that suggested a dislocation. She produced a small jade bottle containing a dark, pungent ointment.
"This will hurt, Young Master," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
Lin Yun gritted his teeth and nodded. As she applied the cooling, numbing balm and began to expertly manipulate the joint back into place with a soft pop, he focused on the scene unfolding before him, using it as a distraction from the pain.
Back in the center of the avenue, City Lord Su smoothed his robes and addressed the Lin Clan with a genial smile, expertly steering the event forward.
"The Lin Clan has secured a victory," he announced. "According to the rules, the winning clan has the right to issue the next challenge. Who will you send?"
A murmur ran through the crowd. Most assumed the Lin Clan, having just scored a shocking but costly win with their weakest member, would now send out a lower-ranked disciple to continue testing the waters. Perhaps one of their 7th or 8th Level Qi Condensation youths.
They were wrong.
Before Lin Canghai could even consult his elders, a figure moved.
It was a simple, unhurried leap. There was no flourish, no wasted motion. Lin Feng landed in the center of the battle stage, his arrival as quiet and imposing as a mountain settling into place. The chatter died instantly.
All eyes were drawn to him. He stood with an innate, unshakable calm, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. His gaze, cool and penetrating, swept over the rival clans before settling with the weight of an anvil on one person.
Ji Gengxin.
The air grew thick. This was no longer a warm-up. This was the main event everyone had been waiting for.
Lin Feng's voice rang out, clear, calm, and utterly devoid of emotion. It was not a shout, yet it carried to every corner.
"Ji Gengxin."
He did not need to raise his voice. The name alone was a challenge.
"There's no need to waste time with trivialities," Lin Feng continued, his tone almost conversational. "Come up. Let us settle this."
A collective intake of breath swept through the audience. Everyone here knew very well on how powerful Lin Feng was. His reputation as the number one genius of the Fortune City was not a joke.
All heads swiveled to the Ji Clan's seating area, to the young man dressed in fine silks adorned with the Sky Sword Sect's emblem.
Ji Gengxin's face paled. His hand, resting on his knee, trembled almost imperceptibly. The calm confidence he had worn like a mask since his arrival began to crack.
The ghost of past defeats rose before his eyes—the countless times Lin Feng had humiliated him on this very stage, in these very competitions. The memory of that overwhelming, insurmountable strength was a brand on his soul.
He had joined the Sky Sword Sect. He had learned new techniques. He had advanced his cultivation. He had told himself he was different now, that he was stronger. But facing Lin Feng's unwavering gaze, all that newfound confidence crumbled into dust, leaving only the familiar, cold dread.
Seeing his disciple's hesitation, Jian Zihan, the Sky Sword Sect elder, let out a soft, displeased snort. The sound was like a needle of ice, jabbing into Ji Gengxin's consciousness.
"Gengxin," Jian Zihan's voice was a cold whisper, yet it carried a sharp, cutting edge. "Do not forget the resources the sect has invested in you. Do not forget your position. You will defeat him. There are no excuses this time."
The words were not encouragement; they were a command, laden with threat.
The pressure from his backer was the final push Ji Gengxin needed. He took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing the fear down into the pit of his stomach. He could not lose face in front of Elder Jian. He could not disappoint the sect.
His trembling hand stilled. A forced arrogance returned to his features, masking the lingering fear in his eyes.
"Arrogant!" Ji Gengxin declared, his voice a bit too loud, a bit too sharp. "You think you're still dealing with the same person from a year ago, Lin Feng? Today, I will wash away all past humiliations!"
With a flourish, he unsheathed the long sword at his hip. The blade gleamed with a cold, spiritual light, a clear testament to its superior quality. It was a sword worthy of a Sky Sword Sect disciple.
He took a deep breath, and then, his spiritual aura erupted.
Buzz—
A brilliant, golden light burst from his body, so intense it was hard to look at directly. A powerful pressure, heavy and sharp, radiated outwards, causing the protective barrier around the stage to hum loudly. At the center of the light, within his dantian, a perfectly formed, lustrous golden core spun rapidly, supplying him with immense power.
The Peak of the Golden Core Formation Realm!
Gasps of shock and disbelief echoed through the avenue.
"This... this is impossible!" a young master from the Wang Clan stammered. "A year ago, at the last competition, he was only at the 7th Level! How can he reach the Peak so quickly?"
"Even with the resources of the Sky Sword Sect, such progress is monstrous!" another from the Zhou Clan whispered, his face pale.
The peers who had grown up competing with Ji Gengxin were the most shocked. They understood the immense chasm between the 7th and the Peak level. This wasn't just progress; it was a meteoric leap that defied all logic. Whispers of "forbidden pills" and "sect secrets" rippled through the crowd.
Yet, standing opposite this dazzling display of power, Lin Feng remained as still as an ancient pine. The golden light reflecting in his eyes revealed no surprise, no fear, only a deep, unshakable calm. The violent winds of spiritual energy whipped at his robes, but he did not flinch.
He looked at the frantic Ji Gengxin and spoke, his voice flat and devoid of provocation. "Make your move."
The sheer, casual dismissal in those two words was more insulting than any taunt. It was as if he were humoring a child…