Chen's eyes turned cold the moment he saw Xinhao.
Feng Xinhao—Feng Yuji's elder brother, the most powerful student in the entire academy. A tyrant who bullied anyone he pleased. People feared him enough to drop their gaze the moment he passed. Even Shen Fei, the boy who tried to humiliate Chen earlier, had been sent by this bastard.
"My little brother wasn't wrong," Xinhao said, voice dripping with arrogance. "You've gotten a little stronger… strong enough to dodge one of my attacks. But not strong enough to stand against me. How dare you break my brother's hand? Did you forget how to fear?"
With every word, Xinhao released a crushing pressure that slammed down on Chen's shoulders.
Chen felt his lungs tighten—his bones trembled under the weight. Even at the eighth level of Qi Refining, he couldn't withstand the aura of someone at Foundation Establishment. If the sword mark on his body hadn't flared to life, he would've collapsed to his knees like an obedient dog.
A faint glow spread beneath his skin, and the suffocating pressure vanished.
Chen inhaled sharply. If not for the sword mark… I would've been finished.
Xinhao tilted his head, amused.
"Interesting. You have a few tricks. But compared to me, you're nothing."
He didn't wait. With a sharp exhale, he struck.
"Tiger Fist."
Chen barely saw the blur before a crushing impact hit his chest. His body flew backward, slamming into a tree so hard the trunk cracked. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth as he pushed himself back up, vision spinning.
He understood one thing clearly—he could not face Xinhao head-on.
To defeat a monster, he needed to strike its weak point.
Xinhao charged again, fury twisting his features, but this time Chen moved. His instincts screamed, his feet shifting just in time. He dodged—and then his fist shot forward, coated in swirling dark qi.
His knuckles buried themselves in Xinhao's abdomen.
A sickening thud echoed.
Xinhao's breath hitched. His knees slammed to the ground. Blood spilled past his lips as he choked, wide-eyed in disbelief.
He stared at Chen like he was seeing him for the first time.
The same Chen he once treated like a punching bag… had just brought him to his knees.
He tried to rise, but agony kept his body pinned to the ground.
Chen looked down at his own hand, at the faint dark qi pulsing around his knuckles. A slow, dangerous smile curved on his lips as he clenched his fist.
"You've made a big mistake, Chen…" Xinhao rasped. "The Feng Family won't spare you. They'll make you beg for death. But if you kneel right now—rub your nose against the dirt and call me 'master'—maybe I'll consider letting you live."
Even in pain, he still tried to intimidate him.
Chen stared at him—amused, disgusted.
The man could barely breathe, yet he still tried to threaten him.
His anger snapped.
"No one will ever force me to kneel again," Chen said, voice low and lethal. "Not this world, not your family—no one. I'll crush anyone who tries to stand in my way."
He raised his fist and slammed it into Xinhao's face.
Xinhao collapsed, unconscious.
For a moment, everything went silent.
Then Chen blinked, breath unsteady as reality returned.
He looked at Xinhao's limp body.
I really lost control.
The dark qi within him felt… hungry.
He turned away, whispering under his breath,
"I have to learn to control this dark qi. Otherwise… one day it'll consume me."
---
● Nightfall
Hours later, Chen sat cross-legged in his room, cultivating.
Because of the sword mark, spiritual energy flowed toward him like he was a living vortex. In just a short time, he broke through—stepping into Foundation Establishment.
His muscles tightened, bones strengthening until he felt like his entire body had been reforged.
But even with all that power, one thing frustrated him.
He still couldn't master any proper martial arts.
Only a few basic techniques lingered in his memory, and none of them satisfied him.
Frustration twisted inside him.
And then—
A sharp pain pierced his skull.
Chen clutched his head, groaning as a wave of dizziness dragged him into darkness. When he forced his eyes open again, he wasn't in his room anymore.
He was suspended in a void.
Endless, silent darkness stretched in every direction.
He couldn't see the ground, couldn't see the sky—only emptiness.
Then—
A blinding light tore through the dark.
Chen shielded his eyes. The brightness slowly faded, and when he looked again, a massive door stood before him.
Towering. Ancient. Its surface carved with ink-black symbols that pulsed with a chilling aura.
And at the very top, written in dark, divine lettering—
Dark Divine Library.
Chen's breath hitched.
"What… is this?"
He reached out and touched the door.
Instantly, an overwhelming pressure crashed down on him, enough to make his knees shake. But he gritted his teeth and wrapped himself in dark qi. The pressure relented just enough for him to push the door open.
Cold air rushed out—sharp enough to prickle his skin.
Inside, everything was pitch-black.
Then, all at once—
Light bloomed.
Rows upon rows of martial arts scrolls filled the vast hall. Every technique radiated a dense, sinister dark qi.
Chen's heart pounded.
A martial arts library? Here?
"After so many years… someone has finally arrived."
A voice echoed.
Chen instantly shifted into a defensive stance, but he saw no one. Only shadows flickering across the walls.
Then—
Something shifted behind him.
He spun around.
Two enormous red eyes stared back at him from the darkness.
He froze.
And when the creature finally stepped forward, his breath caught in his throat.
A colossal dark dragon emerged—seven heads rising like a nightmare given form. Its scales glimmered with a wicked black shine, each of its necks bound by massive chains.
Chen's eyes widened, heart thundering.
A chained seven-headed dark dragon.