Chapter 34: Fist, Blood, and Will
Unknown to all, today marked the second great turning point in the fate of Wu Yuan—and that of his parents.
In another path, in another time, Wu Lin might have set his sights on the Wu Clan's patriarch seat, challenging his brother Wu Lingtian for power. But watching Wu Yuan's meteoric rise, that ambition now faltered. What use was the throne, when the future stood right in front of him—small in frame, but vast in potential?
But with each deliberate step, the boy quietly rewrote the threads of fate. And at the center of that slow change stood Wu Lin, his father.
A man once hardened by duty and regret… now stirred by something he couldn't quite explain.
Wu Lin snapped out of his wandering thoughts and focused his gaze on the duel ring once more.
His son stood across from the so-called Jiang challenger.
But this time, something was different.
In all his previous duels, he had waited—defending, calculating, baiting his opponents into overextending before striking with surgical precision.
But not today.
Today, he closed the distance the moment the signal rang out, launching a swift but controlled assault. His movements were still fluid, his footwork still crisp, but there was more urgency—as though he had something to prove… or something to hide.
Wu Yuan knew it was time to act carefully.
He couldn't afford to seem untouchable again. Not today.
Not when all of Wu City was watching—including elders from every major clan. If he dominated again, suspicion would grow.
He needed to take some blows.
He needed to look like a gifted Level 4 Body Tempering Realm cultivator—not a monster walking in a child's body.
Wu Yuan struck first.
His fist shot forward like a lightning bolt, aiming straight for his opponent's chest.
But Lei Tian met it with calm precision—one palm raised, catching the blow with practiced ease.
He immediately twisted his hand, trying to seize Wu Yuan's wrist. But Wu Yuan didn't give him the chance. Like a snake slipping through fingers, he pulled back before the grip could tighten.
Before Wu Yuan could fully stabilize his stance, Lei Tian countered with a sudden burst of speed.
A heavy kick arced toward Wu Yuan's head.
The crowd gasped.
Wu Yuan's eyes narrowed. He raised both arms in time, crossing them to shield himself from the impact.
CRACK!
The blow landed solidly.
Wu Yuan managed to block it—but the sheer force behind the strike sent him staggering back five full steps across the stage.
Lei Tian stood firm, not moving even a single foot from his place. His hair swayed slightly in the aftermath of the strike, but his expression remained steady.
For the first time in the duel ring, Wu Yuan was being pushed back.
A murmur rolled through the audience, followed by excited whispers.
"He's on the defensive!"
"That Lei kid is strong… Wu Yuan didn't get the upper hand right away this time!"
Even the elders leaned forward with renewed interest.
This was no ordinary duel.
This was the first time Wu Yuan wasn't in control.
But no one noticed what stirred inside Wu Yuan the moment he blocked Lei Tian's kick.
A flicker. A pulse.
Deep within his body, the dormant lightning essence—drawn from his cultivation—trembled, reacting to the impact.
Wu Yuan's brow furrowed slightly.
'Just like yesterday… this feeling again.'
He didn't have time to ponder it.
He lunged forward again.
This time, he leapt—a spinning kick aimed at Lei Tian's ribs.
But once again, Lei Tian blocked it with effortless control.
His hand snapped out—grabbing Wu Yuan's leg mid-air, just above the ankle.
The crowd gasped.
"He's caught him!"
But Wu Yuan didn't resist.
Because it wasn't a mistake—it was a trap.
Even before Lei Tian could tighten his grip, Wu Yuan twisted mid-air—his body coiling like a spring.
A second kick, vertical and vicious, descended from above.
Lei Tian's eyes widened—too late.
CRACK!
Wu Yuan's heel slammed into the crown of Lei Tian's head.
But at the same moment—
Lei Tian roared, lifting Wu Yuan and smashing him down into the platform like a hammer pounding a nail.
BOOM!
The wooden dueling stage groaned—thin cracks spidering outward from the impact point.
Dust exploded upward, veiling both fighters for a moment.
Both fighters took the hit.
Lei Tian staggered back, rubbing the top of his skull, eyes burning with fury.
Wu Yuan lay flat for a heartbeat, dust swirling around him—but his eyes were still sharp. Alive. Calculating.
The crowd erupted into shouts and gasps.
"Did he just let himself get grabbed?!"
"That was insane!"
"He's just a kid—how can he fight like that!?"
Even among the watching elders, a few eyes narrowed.
But for others—especially the younger cultivators—a chill ran down their spines.
That wasn't a move of desperation.
It was ruthlessness. Cold, practiced ruthlessness.
He'd risked everything to land that hit.
And he didn't care what it cost him.
But when Wu Yuan tried to summon that same strange sensation—the spark of lightning that had stirred in his body earlier—it didn't come.
He narrowed his eyes.
So… it only activates when I'm struck directly?
There was no time to ponder. Gritting his teeth, Wu Yuan forced himself to stand again.
Across the stage, Lei Tian's expression shifted.
"What kind of monster is this brat?"
"He's just eight… How can he be this ruthless?"
The crowd murmured, watching the boy rise with blood on his lips and a steady gaze in his eyes.
Lei Tian took a breath and moved. This time, there was no hesitation—just raw power.
His fist slammed directly into Wu Yuan's chest before the boy could even raise a guard. The impact echoed like a hammer strike across the ring.
Wu Yuan's small body rolled across the platform, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth.
Gasps erupted from the crowd. Even some of the older cultivators furrowed their brows.
Yes.
That feeling again.
The moment Lei Tian's punch landed—lightning stirred within Wu Yuan's body once more.
His eyes sharpened as he lay there, blood at the corner of his lips.
So it only responds when I'm struck by someone with lightning-aligned force…
A thought began to take shape.
Does that mean… he cultivates using lightning materials as well?
Wu Yuan's mind raced, even as pain echoed through his ribs.
That would explain the reaction. His body tempering isn't just brute force—it's infused with lightning, just like mine.
But then his eyes narrowed further.
The Jiang Clan isn't known for lightning cultivation. In fact, there's barely anyone in the Verdant Mountain who specializes in lightning, let alone so many talented ones appearing all at once…
One possibility surfaced. It wasn't just likely—it felt almost certain now.
"They're not Jiang disciples at all…" Wu Yuan's eyes narrowed.
"They're from outside Verdant Mountain."
A cold chill ran down his spine as the pieces locked into place—too neat, too deliberate.
"And for outsiders to meddle this brazenly in Wu Clan affairs…"His breath hitched as a single word struck him like thunder.
"The Lei Clan."
The same Lei Clan whose offer he had just rejected not long ago.
Now that Wu Yuan had clarity, he knew what he needed—to finish this battle quickly.
He locked eyes on Lei Tian once more. No hesitation. No theatrics.
Just resolve.
Seeing Lei Tian charging toward him, Wu Yuan surged forward too, fist raised with full force.
Their fists collided midair—
Crack!
The shockwave rippled across the arena. Dust kicked up. Both boys staggered back—Wu Yuan took five steps, Lei Tian only three.
A ripple of relief spread through the crowd.
"Looks like he's finally hit his limit."
"Yeah, if he kept dominating a Level 6 like that, he wouldn't be human… he'd be a monster in disguise."
"Maybe he really is only at Level 4 after all."
But on the stage, there was no room for relief.
Again, Wu Yuan met Lei Tian head-on.
Bang!
Smash!
Crack!
Ten rounds.
Each clash more brutal than the last.
And yet—Wu Yuan wasn't backing down.
Even when he took two hits for every one he landed.
Even when bruises painted his arms.
Even when blood ran down his side.
He didn't flinch.
He didn't retreat.
He fought like a man possessed—ruthless, calculating, and utterly unyielding.
Lei Tian's breathing grew heavier. His strikes—once sharp and precise—were now starting to miss by inches.
He was getting rattled.
Every time Wu Yuan rose again, bloodied but calm, it gnawed at Lei Tian's mind.
He should be slowing down. He should be on the ground.
But instead… he kept getting stronger.
And that's when it started—
The fear.
His once-bold eyes now flickered with hesitation. His movements grew rigid. His timing—sloppy.
And Wu Yuan noticed.
He didn't need to say a word. He simply stepped in.
Bang!
A blow to Lei Tian's ribs.
Smack!
Another to his jaw.
Thud!
And now—Lei Tian staggered.
The rhythm had shifted.
From being struck twice for every attack, Wu Yuan now struck twice for every blow he received.
The crowd fell into a tense hush. Even the elder-level cultivators narrowed their eyes.
"Is that… a reversal?"
"No. That's control."
"He's not just enduring anymore. He's dismantling him."
Even among the Lei Clan elders watching from the shadows, there was silence.
Fifth Elder Lei Jinghong narrowed his eyes.
"He didn't win because he was stronger," he muttered.
"He won… because he was more ruthless."
Second Elder's fingers curled at his side. "That boy is terrifying. Every hit he takes, he learns. Every wound, he weaponizes."
Lei Xueyin's voice trembled slightly. "He's not fighting to prove himself. He's fighting like someone cornered. Like someone with no way out."
Jinghong exhaled. "And that's exactly why we misjudged him."
Another elder spoke quietly, "If Lei Tian had fought anyone else, he would've won. But against a monster willing to sacrifice his own flesh just to shatter your rhythm…"
They watched as Wu Yuan, bruised and bloodied, stood tall while Lei Tian wavered on one knee.
"…Victory was never about talent. It was about resolve."
A grey-robed elder from the Shan Clan stroked his beard. "This Wu Yuan... he's not just talented. He's cunning, daring, and far too calm for his age."
One of the Shan juniors muttered, "He fights like a veteran, not a child."
A member of the Jiang Clan, face shadowed under a wide brimmed hat, frowned deeply. "No wonder those 'juniors' failed to crush him before. If we let this boy grow... the Wu Clan may rise again."
From the Tu Clan, Lady Tu Yulan leaned forward, her eyes glinting. "He's injured, bloodied, but still dominates the rhythm of the fight. That kind of willpower doesn't come from soft training. It comes from pain."
A young Tu heir beside her asked softly, "Should we reach out to the Wu Clan?"
Lady Tu didn't respond. But her silence carried weight.
Mu Rong, a middle-aged man with a thin mustache and eyes like a hawk, swirled his teacup calmly. "Interesting," he murmured. "Very interesting."
Beside him, Mu Yao, a graceful woman in her twenties known for her sharp tongue, leaned on the railing. "I thought the Wu Clan was finished. Now I'm not so sure."
Another elder spoke cautiously, "He's still only at the Body Tempering Realm, but this level of composure… brutality… it's not normal."
Mu Rong chuckled softly. "It's not about normal. It's about value."
Mu Yao raised an eyebrow. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
He nodded slightly. "Whether he wins or loses, Wu Yuan's already changed the game. A gamble on the Wu Clan may not be foolish anymore."
"But only if he survives," Mu Yao replied with a slight smirk.
Mu Rong's gaze sharpened toward the dueling platform. "Exactly. If he survives—and continues to grow—the Mu Clan must decide early whether to remain neutral... or ride the next wave before others do."
Back at the Arena—
For the first time, the crowd wasn't murmuring about luck or coincidence. They weren't waiting for Wu Yuan to fall.
They stood, tense and awestruck, as realization dawned:
This child wasn't just lucky or clever. He was worthy.
A low voice echoed from someone within the audience.
"This is no longer a duel of juniors... This is a declaration of war."