Xiao Ke didn't get back to the barracks until four in the morning. He followed his usual Spartan routine: a quick shower, then straight to his bunk. Just two hours later, the piercing shriek of the camp's wake-up whistle shattered the pre-dawn silence.
The moment the sound hit the air, Xiao Ke's eyes opened. He sprang from his bed in a single, reflexive motion.
He dressed with the crisp, practiced efficiency of an Imperial soldier, then fell in with his men for the morning wash-up. No wasted motion, no grogginess. You'd never know he was running on only two hours of sleep; in fact, he looked more alert and energetic than Duan Canglong or Luo Hou, both of whom had gotten a full eight.
After washing up, Xiao Ke led his team to the Killer Whale Camp's temporary mess hall for breakfast.
They'd just gotten their food and sat down when a buzz of conversation started up at a nearby table.
"Did you hear?" one soldier whispered, "It's true. Qiao Dong lit up his third martial node last night. He's officially a third-rank warrior now."
"I heard that, too," another chimed in. "That's the peak of the warrior realm. The guy just awakened his power a few days ago, and he's already there. He's gotta be one of the chosen ones."
"Seriously. Why even bother with the selection trials today? The centurion spot is as good as his."
"No kidding. It's a lock. Which means things are about to get really ugly for the guys who crossed him. Just like he promised yesterday, their good times are officially over."
The whispers spread like wildfire. Everyone was talking about Qiao Dong's new power, convinced he had the centurion position in the bag. The prevailing sentiment was that Xiao Ke and his squad were about to have a very bad day.
Xiao Ke, however, seemed oblivious, calmly eating his breakfast as if he hadn't heard a word. Beside him, Duan Canglong and Luo Hou's faces had visibly tightened, and the rest of his men looked grim. They were all first-rank warriors. How in the world were they supposed to compete with a third-rank?
Just then, a group of soldiers swaggered into the mess hall.
Leading the pack was Qiao Dong himself. He carried himself differently now, radiating an aura of power that hadn't been there before. Maybe it was the surge of Origin Power from his new rank, or maybe it was just the confidence that came with knowing you were the strongest person in the room.
His eyes immediately found Xiao Ke's table. A slow, arrogant smirk spread across his face as he strode directly toward them.
He stopped before their table, glancing down at their breakfast trays. With a casual flick of his wrist, he snatched the plate of steamed buns from in front of Xiao Ke and simply let it drop. The stainless steel plate clattered loudly on the concrete floor, sending buns rolling in every direction.
The mess hall went dead silent. Everyone just stared.
Rage flashed across the faces of Duan Canglong and Luo Hou. This was deliberate, and they knew it. Yesterday, Xiao Ke had publicly humiliated one of Qiao Dong's men, Liu Jinquan, by forcing him to pick up dropped chopsticks. This was payback, a clear power play from a newly empowered Qiao Dong, meant to reclaim his lost face.
His provocative stance seemed to scream, I knocked your plate over. What are you going to do about it? Think you can make me pick it up?
Xiao Ke's expression didn't change. He simply looked up at Qiao Dong with a flicker of amusement.
Qiao Dong sneered, chin held high. "You're seething, aren't you? Trying to play it cool, act like you're not terrified."
Xiao Ke offered a small, easy smile. "Actually, I was just picturing the look on your face when all that ambition comes crashing down and you lose today's selection."
Qiao Dong's eyes widened, genuinely shocked that even now, as a third-rank warrior, Xiao Ke still showed him absolutely no fear.
Normally, a first-rank warrior had a sliver of a chance against a second-rank warrior. The power gap wasn't insurmountable. Combat wasn't just about raw Origin Power, after all—especially at this level. Physical strength, experience, technique, and stamina all played a massive role.
But a first-rank versus a third-rank? That was a different story entirely. The chance of winning was purely theoretical, like hitting the lottery. Sure, it was possible, but you had a better shot at being struck by lightning. Maybe one in a million first-rank warriors could pull off such an upset.
Recovering from his shock, Qiao Dong let out a cold laugh. "I thought you were just blindly arrogant, but I see now it's worse. You're completely ignorant of what real power is. That's why you're not afraid. Well, this should be fun. Suddenly, I can't wait for the trials to begin."
"Me neither," Xiao Ke said.
"Good," Qiao Dong nodded, his smile turning predatory. "I'll see you in the ring."
He turned and left with his crew in his wake.
After breakfast, the entire Killer Whale Camp assembled in the town square. The energy was different today. Instead of the usual training drills, this morning was dedicated to selecting a new centurion from the fifteen Decani—the five captains and ten vice-captains—who would lead the camp's two hundred soldiers.
The event was big enough that even the White Shark Camp had turned out. Aside from a few soldiers on guard duty, their entire force, led by Qiao Mingxuan, was present to help Qin Bing maintain order and witness the appointment of the new leader.
Nearly three hundred soldiers stood in perfect formation. Soon, Qin Bing appeared, her military uniform immaculate, her presence sharp and commanding.
She surveyed the assembled troops, her voice cutting through the morning air. "I'm not one for long speeches, and you all know why we're here. Some of the Decani have withdrawn from the competition, acknowledging they are not yet ready. That leaves eight challengers. You will draw lots, be paired up, and compete. The last man standing becomes the Centurion of the Killer Whale Camp."
With that, she called the eight competitors forward: Qiao Dong, Liu Jinquan, Xiao Ke, Duan Canglong, Luo Hou, and three others. It was time to draw lots.
The eight were split into four pairs. By a stroke of fate, Xiao Ke drew Liu Jinquan.
Qiao Dong was matched against a vice-captain from the third combat team, Xu Feihong.
Duan Canglong and Luo Hou had the worst luck of all—they drew each other.
The four duels were set to begin simultaneously across the vast square.
Qin Bing and Qiao Mingxuan took their seats on the viewing platform, their expressions unreadable as they prepared to observe the matches. Both of their gazes, however, were fixed on one fight in particular: Xiao Ke versus Liu Jinquan.
In the ring, the two men faced each other, standing less than six feet apart, waiting for the referee's signal.
Liu Jinquan cracked his knuckles, a malicious grin spreading across his face. "There are no ranks in the ring, Xiao Ke. You embarrassed me yesterday. You don't even deserve a shot at Brother Dong. I'm going to be the one who beats you to a pulp."
He figured they were evenly matched. Both were first-rank warriors. At six-foot-one, he was a little taller and broader than Xiao Ke, and he was confident that gave him the edge.
A slight, almost imperceptible smile touched Xiao Ke's lips. He said nothing.
The referee's arm sliced down. "Begin!"
Liu Jinquan lunged forward, but Xiao Ke was faster. A blur of motion, he unleashed a kick that whistled through the air, aimed right at Liu Jinquan's head.
The sheer speed and power behind the kick were terrifying. The wind it generated was a physical force. Liu Jinquan's face went pale as he instinctively threw his arms up to block.
He managed to deflect the blow, but the impact sent him staggering backward several steps, a searing pain shooting through his forearms as if they'd been smashed with an iron bar.
How is this possible? Liu Jinquan thought, his mind reeling. We're both first-rank! We both have 100 Kahe of Origin Power. Where is all that force coming from?
He had no way of knowing that this was just a probing attack from Xiao Ke, thrown with barely half his true strength. Having tempered and awakened three separate bones in his body, Xiao Ke could generate over 400 pounds of force from his physical strength alone.
Even at fifty percent, that was 200 pounds of force—twice that of a normal man. To Liu Jinquan, it felt like being hit by a sledgehammer.
Sensing his opponent's shock and his own surprising power, Xiao Ke pressed his advantage. He closed the distance in an instant, following his opponent like a shadow, and unleashed a furious, non-stop barrage of attacks.
Every night, Xiao Ke trained for hours with Qin Bing, honing his combat and killing techniques. He was superior in both power and skill, and it showed.
Liu Jinquan was completely overwhelmed. Under Xiao Ke's relentless assault, he felt like a tiny boat caught in a tsunami. He managed to parry a few desperate blows before a final, brutal kick from Xiao Ke caught him square in the chest, sending him flying out of the ring.
He hit the ground hard, struggled to his feet for a moment, and then collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest. A wet, ragged cough brought up a spray of blood. He couldn't continue.
The referee's voice boomed. "Winner: Xiao Ke!"
At almost the same moment, another announcement rang out from a different ring. "Xu Feihong is unconscious! Qiao Dong wins by total domination!"
As cheers erupted from different sections of the crowd, Xiao Ke and Qiao Dong turned and looked at each other from across the square. Their eyes locked, and in that gaze, you could almost see sparks fly. The battle had just begun.