The laboratory, once a place of chaotic discovery, had transformed into the war room for a desperate campaign. Scrolls containing information on the major sects and their champions were spread across every available surface. Jian Ming, his eyes sharp and focused, moved between them, cross-referencing notes and creating profiles. Ci Ying practiced controlling her Fire Vein with meticulous precision, shaping tiny, intricate birds of flame that would dissolve into ash at her command. Lian Hua sat in a meditative trance, her senses extended, learning to differentiate the subtle "scent" of different elemental Qi signatures. And Bu He… Bu He endured.
Every day, he stood before the alchemical puppets, their blows now calibrated to a punishing new intensity. His body had become a testament to his journey; where once there were bruises, now there were only faint white lines that vanished in hours. Where once his skin broke, now it rang with the dull clang of impacted metal. The pain was a constant companion, but the hunger was a master, a dull, ever-present ache in his core that demanded to be fed.
"Your strategy cannot be simple," Elder Bao lectured, pointing a grime-stained finger at a map of the tournament's first arena. "You are not just fighters; you are a solution to a problem. The problem," he looked at Bu He, "is you."
Jian Ming stepped forward. "The other sects have been notified of the tower's new 'Heretic Vein' disciple. I've gathered intel. They are already preparing countermeasures." He pointed to a scroll. "The champion of the Ice Palace Sect, Leng Yue. They call him the 'Ice Prince.' His techniques don't just freeze the body; they freeze the very flow of energy in the veins. He is a natural counter to your Blood Core, Bu He. You must overwhelm him with raw, explosive power before he can establish his domain."
Bao nodded grimly. "Against him, Ci Ying, your fire is the key. You must melt his frost before it can settle. Jian Ming, you will identify the source of his Qi flow. Lian Hua, you will sense the moment he begins to channel his frost arts. We will shatter him before he can even begin."
He continued this for hours, breaking down their most likely opponents—the assassins from the Shadow Sect, the unmovable earth-benders of the Stone Fort, and of course, Xue Feng and his Golden Veins. "Against Xue Feng," Bao concluded, "it is a battle of attrition. His golden Qi gives him explosive power, but it is finite. Your body, Bu He, forged in this crucible, endures. Wear him down. Let his own pride exhaust him."
That evening, they received an unexpected visitor. A soft knock at the lab door revealed Mei Qian, the enigmatic Core Disciple who walked the path of poison and medicine. She was dressed in silks the color of a pale lotus, and her smile was as beautiful as it was unnerving.
"Elder Bao," she said with a polite bow, though her eyes were fixed on Bu He. "I have come to propose a temporary concord."
She explained that her nemesis, a poison master from the Serpent Marsh Sect, would also be at the tournament. "I need to acquire a sample of his 'Seven Steps Heart-Rot' venom for my research," she said coolly. "He is notoriously paranoid. I need a diversion—a loud, powerful, and utterly terrifying diversion to draw the attention of his guards. Your disciple," she gestured to Bu He, "is the perfect candidate."
"And in exchange?" Bao asked, his eyes narrowed.
"I will provide you with this," Mei Qian produced a small, jade vial containing a single, luminous white pill. "The 'Hundred Poisons Neutralizing Pill.' It can nullify almost any venom, a useful insurance for a team likely to make many enemies." She then looked directly at Bu He. "Furthermore, I have a scholarly interest in your unique condition. Your blood… it defies the known laws of life and alchemy. Assist me, and I will share my knowledge of how to suppress toxic energies—including the internal 'poison' your own power generates."
It was a viper's bargain, an alliance of convenience. But Bao, after a long moment, agreed. An expert in poisons was a terrifying enemy, but an invaluable ally.
The night before their departure, a strange calm settled over the team. They had a plan, they had allies—however temporary—and they had a purpose. As Bu He lay on his cot, the hunger in his core a dull throb, he drifted into a deep, clear dream.
He was standing on a vast, empty plain under the familiar crimson moon. Before him stood Usta Mo, his form clearer than it had ever been.
"The world will see a monster," Usta Mo said, his voice not a whisper, but a calm, steady resonance. "They will see a heretic. They will see a threat to their celestial order. Let them. But you must only see the path."
He raised a hand and pointed to Bu He's chest. "That power will tempt you with rage. It will whisper to you of glorious destruction. But your true strength is not in that core."
Usta Mo's form seemed to flicker, and for a second, Bu He saw the memory of a small, laughing child by a fountain, a kind old woman sharing her bread.
"Your humanity is not in the power you wield, but in the choices you make when that power threatens to consume you. Do not forget the boy who could laugh at his own misfortune. He is your anchor in the coming storm. Now go. And walk your path."
Bu He awoke with a start. The first light of dawn was breaking. A great horn blew from the tower's peak, a deep, resonant call that shook the very stones. It was the signal for departure.
He clenched his fist, feeling the steady thrum of the Blood Core within him, the memory of his master's words a shield around his heart. He was ready. He walked out of the lab, meeting the determined gazes of his teammates. Together, they joined the procession of disciples, a small, mismatched team marching towards a tournament that would decide not just their future, but the fate of their very souls.