Before dawn, the snowfall that had shrouded the heavens finally ceased. The entire city of Baicheng was draped in a silvery mantle, enveloped in profound stillness, broken only by the chirping of sparrows flitting amid the branches.
In a small courtyard of the Gao clan, a half-man-tall snowman sat cross-legged at the center, as if mimicking a meditating warrior. Its surface was covered in immaculate white snow, and to its right stood a gleaming longsword, its cold radiance shimmering sharply against the wintry backdrop.
"Brother…" A lovely young girl in pink attire dashed into the courtyard. This was Gao Yang, Gao Han's younger sister, and the courtyard belonged to none other than Gao Han himself.
The young girl burst impetuously through Gao Han's chamber door without hesitation, calling out as she stepped inside: "Why would you enter the martial tournament? You know full well they will bully you, and Father actually agreed to… Huh! Brother, where are you?"
Gao Han was nowhere to be seen on the bed, the quilts neatly folded. Gao Yang stormed back outside in frustration: "Brother, where on earth are you?"
"Little sister Yangyang, I'm over here! I am far superior to that useless brother of yours! Hahaha!" A shrill, grating voice echoed from the courtyard gate. A youth around fifteen entered with the call; he possessed passably handsome features, yet his arrogant sneer marred his entire countenance. This was Gao Jian, the second son of Gao Jianfeng and Gao Ping's own younger brother. At eighteen, he had reached the seventh layer of Qi Condensation—a respectable talent, yet one that paled utterly in comparison to Gao Han's. Gao Jian visited this courtyard two or three times each month, his sole purpose to humiliate Gao Han, to glimpse despair on his face and salvage his own fragile pride.
"Gao Jian, what did you say? You called my brother a useless wretch! You're asking for death!" Gao Yang snapped fiercely, charging toward him with tiny fists raised. Yet a girl with no cultivation stood no chance against a seventh-layer Qi Condensation warrior. Her small fists were seized in an instant, rendered completely immobile.
"I said your brother is a useless cripple!" Gao Jian retorted, tightening his grip on her wrist slightly. The pain made Gao Yang shriek loudly: "It hurts! You brute, let go! I'll beat you to a pulp!" "Gao Han, do you only dare to hide behind your little sister? And you call yourself an eighth-layer Qi Condensation expert—what lofty cultivation indeed!" Gao Jian laughed unbridled.
"Release her, or I shall not hesitate to cripple that hand of yours." A calm, quiet voice drifted from an unseen corner.
"Brother, don't come out! I can handle him!" Gao Yang kicked wildly at Gao Jian with her small feet.
"I won't let go! Come out and try to cripple me, then!" Gao Jian scanned the courtyard for the source of the voice.
A sharp crack resounded as the snowman at the courtyard's center split open. A figure darted swiftly from within it to stand before Gao Jian. In an instant, Gao Jian felt his left hand seized by another, as if encased in ice, the cold seeping into his bones and robbing him of all strength. Gao Yang's hand slipped free effortlessly.
Gao Han's grip tightened, waves of frigid qi flowing from his palm into Gao Jian's body. Gao Jian felt a bitter cold spreading upward from his hand, until his entire arm went stiff.
Daring not to underestimate his opponent any longer, Gao Jian channeled his cultivation throughout his body, regaining limited movement in his arm yet still overwhelmed by the piercing chill. Fuming, he glowered at Gao Han: "Useless wretch! How dare you harm me!"
Gao Han smiled faintly. "Why would I dare not?"
He surged inner qi through his hand and into Gao Jian's meridians, his grip tightening further. Gao Jian felt his body encased in a sheet of ice, trembling uncontrollably. He tried to yank his hand free, but Gao Han's strength was overwhelming, leaving him utterly trapped. His face paled as his inner qi stagnated, frozen solid within his veins. He lashed out with his right fist, only to be repelled by a single palm strike from Gao Han.
"Cripple." Gao Han uttered the word softly. The blood in Gao Jian's left hand froze instantly, his meridians flooded and ruptured by Gao Han's frigid qi, snapping apart one by one. Amid Gao Jian's bloodcurdling screams, his left hand was rendered completely useless.
"Now, get out of here." Gao Han finally released his grip, turning toward his younger sister.
Gao Jian clutched his left wrist tightly with his right, his eyes blazing with hatred. "You shall pay for this! I will have my revenge!"
"I shall be waiting." Gao Han paused for a moment, speaking calmly before dismissing him entirely. Gao Jian stumbled out of the courtyard, consumed by resentment.
"You big dummy! When did you become so powerful, and never told me? I had to stand up for you!" Gao Yang chided him petulantly, stamping her foot lightly in mock anger.
"Hehe, even at my strongest, I could never match you. What brings you here today?" Gao Han could never stay cross with his beloved sister, his tone warm and gentle.
"I came to ask why you joined the tournament, but seeing how strong you are now, I'm no longer worried. I won't have to protect you anymore!" Gao Yang declared proudly. "Alright, I'm off!" With that, she scampered out of the courtyard.
Watching her retreating figure, Gao Han smiled softly. He turned and focused on the newfound power coursing through his body. "As I suspected. Last night, I discovered that cultivating in the snow accelerates my progress; my body can draw wisps of cold energy from the snow itself, converting it into my own inner qi. A miraculous transformation has indeed taken place within me."
Gao Han pulled the sword from the snow and began practicing the Soul-Breaking Sword Art, repeating each form from the first to the ninth time and again. Practice makes perfect, and he repeated the motions tirelessly, murmuring, "Soul-breaking… break the spirit." Gradually, he slipped into a state of profound comprehension. The sword forms remained the same, yet they flowed with newfound grace.
Where his strikes had once held slight pauses between forms, they now transitioned seamlessly, each movement merging into the next. As he continued his practice, a sharp glint flashed in Gao Han's eyes.
His sword flashed, slicing toward a nearby stone table. The table split cleanly in two, its surface smooth as glass, and frost wisped from the blade of his sword.
"The tenth and final form of the Soul-Breaking Sword Art—Soul Severance. I have finally mastered it!" Excitement surged within Gao Han. Though the form was still unrefined, given time, it would reach perfection.
In Gao Jianfeng's residence, Gao Jian sobbed before his father: "Father, you must avenge me! I merely called Gao Han a useless cripple, and he dared to cripple my hand!"
"What? He crippled your hand?!" Gao Jianfeng roared in fury.
"Yes! Father, you must punish him, kill him!" Gao Jian's eyes burned with vengeance.
"You went to provoke Gao Han again, didn't you? How many times have I told you to wait until after this year's tournament? If I confront him now, he will hold it against us, accusing me of poor discipline—how can I lead a clan if I cannot even teach my own son proper etiquette? How shall we seize the position of clan leader?" Gao Jianfeng reasoned gravely.
"And I am to let my hand go unavenged?!" Gao Jian shouted in rage.
"Father, brother, worry not. I hear Gao Han intends to compete in this year's tournament. I shall 'accidentally' cripple his dantian during our bout." A cold voice sounded from the doorway as Gao Ping stepped inside.
The annual martial tournament drew near, and every disciple of the Gao clan regarded it with the utmost gravity. This year, the clan had invited elders from the Misty Sect to select talented disciples for recruitment. Entry into a major sect promised boundless cultivation resources, superior martial arts, sword techniques, and all the glory that came with them—all things the young cultivators craved, for such boons would elevate their strength and earn them widespread admiration. The Gao clan's martial arts were held exclusively by the clan leader, bestowed only upon disciples of exceptional talent or those who had rendered great service to the family.
This stood in stark contrast to the major sects, which housed vast collections of secret manuals and cultivation techniques. Once a disciple's cultivation reached a sufficient level, they could enter the sect's library to choose arts suited to their physique.
Naturally, not all clans operated like the Gao family; the great clans maintained their own libraries, accessible only to direct blood members, not even to elders of foreign surnames.
Boom… boom… boom… Resonant, stirring drums echoed throughout the Gao clan manor, heralding the long-awaited start of the martial tournament. The four-hundred-square-meter arena was surrounded by registered disciples, while a raised platform to the north seated the clan's dignitaries. Clan Leader Gao Jianfei occupied the main seat, flanked by First Elder Gao Fenglei and Elder Gao Fengxiang on his left. To his right sat Elder Li Changtian of the Misty Sect, followed by Gao Jianfeng and Gao Jianshang, Gao Jianfei's third younger brother.
The tournament rules were simple: any registered disciple could challenge another on the arena; defeated participants could not fight again, and refusing a challenge counted as an automatic loss. The last remaining warrior on the stage would be declared the victor.
An elder stood upon the arena and announced: "Disciples of the Gao clan, the annual martial tournament begins now! The rules are as follows: one, all participants must be under twenty-five years of age; two, fights shall cease once a clear winner is determined; three, falling from the arena constitutes defeat; four, poisons and hidden weapons are strictly forbidden. Let the tournament commence!" With that, the elder leaped down.
Moments later, a figure leaped onto the stage. "I Gao Liang shall fight the first bout! Who dares challenge me?" Gao Liang was at the peak of Qi Condensation, twenty-three years of age.
He did not wait long before a challenger emerged. "I Gao Wang shall face you!" Gao Wang was at the ninth layer of Qi Condensation, though not yet at its peak, slightly inferior to Gao Liang, and twenty-four years old.
The two exchanged blows on the arena, wielding their weapons in fierce combat. Both were ninth-layer experts, their clash evenly matched for a time.
Gao Wang slashed his broadsword toward Gao Liang, who dodged and thrust his longsword forward. Gao Wang's strike missed, and he hurried to defend, yet his hasty blocks could not withstand Gao Liang's calculated assault. He was ultimately sent flying off the arena.
The elder declared Gao Liang the victor, and several more bouts followed, though none matched the intensity of the first—few disciples possessed ninth-layer cultivation.
"This bout goes to Gao Yong! Any challengers?" the elder called out.
"Enough of these petty displays. From now on, I shall hold the arena. Who dares fight me?" A cold, deep voice rang out as Gao Ping leaped onto the stage.
Elder Li Changtian of the Misty Sect turned to Gao Jianfeng: "Who is this young man?" Gao Jianfeng rose proudly: "This is my son Gao Ping, an outer-sect disciple of the Qianling Sect! He possesses a Metal Physique!"
Li Changtian shook his head inwardly—regrettable, for the boy was already a disciple of another sect.
The duel between Gao Ping and Gao Yong began. In just two sword strikes, Gao Yong was sent tumbling off the arena. Before the elder could announce the result, Gao Ping pointed his sword at Gao Han in the crowd and sneered: "What? As the clan leader's son, will you not fight a single bout? Why did you even register? You would be safer hiding in your little room."
All eyes turned to Gao Han, a white-robed youth with a longsword standing quietly among the crowd. Many had not noticed him earlier, and whispers broke out. "A useless cripple dares to compete? He has a death wish."
"Hmph! I could defeat him with a single finger. What shameless audacity!" Gao Yong, just defeated by Gao Ping, scoffed arrogantly.
Gao Han ignored the taunts, walking calmly toward the arena and stepping onto its surface. The crowd scoffed—even in ascent, he moved like a cripple.
Gao Jianfei, who had once held faint hope for his son, shook his head silently, ready to intervene at any moment. Gao Yang had told him Gao Han crippled Gao Jian's left hand, and Gao Ping would surely show him no mercy.
"Useless wretch." Gao Ping snorted in disdain.
"Spare the words. Draw your sword." Gao Han replied calmly.
"Why would I need a weapon against the likes of you? I can defeat you with one hand alone." Though he had heard of Gao Han's newfound strength from Gao Jian, he chalked it up to his younger brother's own incompetence.
Gao Han smiled bitterly—was he truly so easily underestimated? If Gao Ping refused to use a sword, he would force him to. He surged inner qi into his palms and lunged forward. Gao Ping met the strike with contempt, channeling merely forty percent of his power, certain his Metal Physique and offensive cultivation art would cripple Gao Han's hand in one blow.
Reality betrayed his expectations. The two palms clashed, sending Gao Ping staggering back three steps, while Gao Han retreated five. The result shocked everyone, including Gao Jianfei, who lost control of his circulating qi and accidentally shattered the railing before him. Even Li Changtian stared in astonishment—rumors had labeled Gao Han a useless Water Physique, talented yet doomed to mediocrity. Miracles were not so easily forged.
"Incredible!" the disciples thought in unison. A mere eighth-layer cultivator had clashed evenly with a ninth-layer expert, even if Gao Ping had not fought at full strength. For a so-called cripple, this was nothing short of miraculous.
Humiliated, Gao Ping roared: "Cripple! You dare shame me!" He channeled his full inner qi, unleashing a palm art toward Gao Han, his hands striking in a flurry, forgetting his earlier vow to fight with one hand.
Gao Han showed no fear, circulating his eighth-layer qi to its limit and meeting each strike with his fists. Though Gao Ping's qi possessed immense offensive power, Gao Han's frigid qi granted him formidable defense and strength, seeping into Gao Ping's meridians with every contact.
Initially, Gao Ping's superior cultivation and palm art forced Gao Han onto the back foot, but as Gao Han grew familiar with his opponent's moves, he turned the tide. Gao Ping's face darkened with rage—how could a cripple fight him to a standstill? Determined to end the fight, he prepared his trump card.
Gao Ping unleashed a devastating palm strike, the wind of which stung Gao Han's cheeks. Gao Han dodged swiftly, and Gao Ping seized the moment to draw the longsword at his back.
"Cripple, your strength has indeed grown. I know not how, but you shall still fall before me!" Gao Ping laughed maniacally. "This is my trump card: a low-grade spiritual sword, won for third place in the Qianling Sect's outer-sect tournament. You are defeated! The tournament champion shall be mine!"
The crowd gasped. Weapons, like cultivation, were ranked; ordinary swords were mortal-grade, unranked, followed by low, middle, and high-grade spiritual weapons. Only elite True Essence realm warriors typically wielded low-grade weapons, reserved for the scions of great clans and sects.
All now believed Gao Ping would win. Even without a weapon, few could challenge him, let alone with a spiritual sword. Pity filled their gazes—Gao Han's defeat seemed inevitable. Li Changtian wrote him off, and Gao Jianfei prepared to order his son to concede. Yet Gao Han spoke.
"Do you truly believe you alone hold a trump card?" Gao Han said calmly. The crowd stared in disbelief—could the cripple have another secret?
Under their skeptical gazes, Gao Han concentrated his full power, his cultivation rising steadily. Eighth-layer advanced… eighth-layer peak… boom—ninth layer Qi Condensation! He had hidden his true strength. Three days prior, he had broken through to the ninth layer, and his frigid qi allowed him to seal his cultivation from others' perception. Now, he unleashed his sealed power.
"How now? Am I worthy to fight you?" The crowd gaped in awe—fifteen years old, ninth layer Qi Condensation! A true genius.
Gao Jianfeng and Gao Ping's faces turned stormy. A Water Physique had reached such heights, even ninth-layer Qi Condensation.
"Fight." Gao Han drew his sword and slashed at Gao Ping repeatedly. Forced onto the defensive, Gao Ping could only parry with his low-grade sword, retreating step by step. Gao Han's Soul-Breaking Sword Art unfolded in an unbroken chain, each form merging into the next as if a single strike. Frost-covered blade clashed with spiritual sword, the sheer force driving Gao Ping backward until he reached the arena's edge.
Gao Han's sword flashed—Soul Severance, the tenth form.
With a resonant hum, Gao Ping was sent flying off the arena. Gao Han's own sword, however, shattered into pieces, leaving only the hilt. "A low-grade spiritual sword remains a spiritual sword. Though my blade was strengthened by my frigid qi, it could not rival a ranked weapon." Gao Han sighed softly. Unbeknownst to him, ordinary swords would have broken after three strikes without the protection of his ice-attribute qi.
Silence fell over the arena. The duel had twisted and turned, defying all expectations at every turn.
"Excellent! Hahaha, you are truly my son! The champion of this tournament is Gao Han! Any objections?" Gao Jianfei declared from the platform, overjoyed at his son's transformation from cripple to genius.
"None!" the crowd chorused, and even the dignitaries on the platform nodded in approval.
"Wait!" A cold, grim voice cut through the cheers.