The arena seethed with noise, excitement, disbelief, and barely contained chaos.
Qin Hao stood at one end of the stage, spear in hand, his presence sharp and predatory.
Chu Feng stood opposite him, calm as a frozen lake, his half-black, half-white hair drifting lightly in the breeze.
The incense was lit.
A thin curl of smoke rose into the air — the duel had begun.
No one moved.
Whispers swept through the spectators like wildfire:
"Chu Feng is insane…"
"One move against Qin Hao?"
"He's handsome, but he's courting death…"
"He doesn't understand!"
Others leaned forward, hearts racing.
"What if… he really can do it?"
Qin Hao slowly rotated his spear, the metal singing.
His gaze narrowed. "Junior Brother… one move, you said?"
Chu Feng nodded once with a smile.
meaning "any more would be unnecessary."
The crowd exploded with curses and shock.
But Qin Hao's expression shifted — not anger, but seriousness.
For the first time since stepping on the stage, he regarded Chu Feng as a serious opponent.
"…Very well," he murmured. "Then I won't insult you by holding back."
He took a single step.
The arena shook.
A feral howl echoed across the sky as Qin Hao's qi exploded outward — wild, savage, ancient.
The shadow of a Heavenly Wolf manifested behind him:
A colossal wolf with silver fur like moonlit frost,
eyes like bleeding stars,
and a presence that made weaker disciples fall to their knees.
Gasps erupted:
"T–that's… a Heavenly Wolf cosmic Soul!"
"A true beast cosmic soul manifestation!"
"He's not just serious… he's going all out!"
The elders leaned forward.
Some frowned.
Some nodded.
Even the Sect Master's eyes gleamed.
The Heavenly Wolf tilted its head back and howled.
Qin Hao's spear blazed with silver killing intent.
"Chu Feng," he called, his voice deep and resonant. "Prepare yourself."
The wolf surged forward with him.
In the same blink, Qin Hao vanished — only an afterimage remained.
He descended from above like a falling star, spear thrusting with a force meant to break mountains.
"Heavenly Fang — Moon-Splitting Strike!"
The silver wolf pounced in perfect sync, its jaws opening to devour Chu Feng whole.
The crowd screamed.
"He's dead!"
But Chu Feng didn't move.
He only exhaled softly.
The world stilled.
Runes of black and white spiralled behind him — silent, profound, eternal.
They flowed like the rhythm of the cosmos.
Chu Feng opened his eyes.
Light and shadow intertwined within them like dancing galaxies.
For a heartbeat, heaven and earth seem to align.
He raised one hand.
Just a hand.
No weapon.
No technique.
No stance.
A gentle push.
At that moment, the audience saw nothing spectacular — only a soft push.
But the elders all had a change of expression
The effect was cataclysmic.
The Heavenly Wolf froze mid-pounce.
Its silver eyes widened in disbelief — then its massive form cracked apart from the centre, as though crushed by an invisible law of Heaven.
CRRRR—K—!
The wolf manifestation shattered.
The moon-splitting spear-light dimmed.
And Qin Hao's strongest strike unravelled in an instant.
Before he could understand what happened
BOOOOOM!
A burst of black-white energy erupted from Chu Feng's palm, swallowing Qin Hao's attack whole and blasting him backwards in an arc across the arena.
He slammed into the barrier and fell, coughing blood, his spear clattering beside him.
Silence fell.
The incense had barely burned a grain's length.
Every spectator stared, eyes wide, mouths open.
Some looked terrified.
Some awestruck.
Some were unable to comprehend what they had witnessed.
A whisper broke the silence:
"…He crushed the attack… with a single palm…"
Among the elders, a voice stuttered:
"That wasn't strength alone… that contained a trace of Dao force…"
"Impossible," another elder said, not wanting to believe his eyes
Two covered in a cloak trembled.
"He's… monstrous…"
Even the Sect Master's breath caught.
Han Long finally lowered his flask.
"Tch. This brat has a bit of my style."
Qin Hao staggered up, pale but conscious.
His voice trembled — not with fear, but respect.
"Junior Brother Chu Feng… I concede."
Chu Feng inclined his head.
The referee elder swallowed and shouted:
"Chu Feng… passes! From this day forward, he is an inner court disciple of the Sword Sect!"
The arena erupted — cheers, arguments, cries, and disbelief merging into a single storm.
But Chu Feng simply glanced toward Han Long, who pretended not to watch.
A faint smile tugged at Chu Feng's lips.
One move.
One truth.
One shattering of all doubt.
The path before him had only just begun.