The dust settled on four simultaneous matches, and two victors emerged at almost the same moment: Xiao Ke and Qiao Dong.
No one was surprised by Qiao Dong. As a Level 3 Battle Soldier with three activated Martial Nodes, he dismantled his opponent with the clean, brutal efficiency everyone expected of him. It was a foregone conclusion.
Xiao Ke, however, was another story entirely. He was a Level 1, the same as his opponent, Liu Jinquan. If anything, Liu Jinquan looked bigger, stronger. But what the crowd saw was a storm. Xiao Ke unleashed a torrent of blows so relentless that Liu Jinquan's defenses buckled in seconds. The match ended with him on his back, spitting blood onto the packed earth.
A ripple of shock went through the assembled soldiers. The veterans of the Killer Whale Battalion, who remembered Xiao Ke as the scrawny but stubborn kid who fought Duan Canglong, were floored. How long had it been? Days? Weeks? The boy they remembered was gone, replaced by a fighter who could no longer be described as weak. In fact, among the rank-and-file, you'd have to call him strong.
While the visiting Great White Shark Battalion watched with casual interest, the Killer Whales exploded. The clearing buzzed with chatter.
"No way that kid's just a Level 1. Did you see how he steamrolled Liu Jinquan?"
"You're missing the point," a grizzled veteran grunted. "At this level, Origin Power isn't everything. Raw strength, speed, technique… that stuff still matters. And Xiao Ke is just built differently. He completely outclassed him."
"Well, whatever the reason, this throws a real wrench in Qiao Dong's plans for that Centurion spot."
"You said it. They've already got bad blood. Now it looks like they're on a collision course. This is gonna be good."
Suddenly, the day had gotten a lot more interesting. For the men in Xiao Ke's own First Combat Squad, it was more than interesting—it was a revelation. Their gloom vanished, replaced by a surge of adrenaline and pride. If their leader could pull this off, they'd all be basking in his glory.
Up on the observation platform, the shock was just as palpable. Chiliarch Qin Bing and Centurion Qiao Mingxuan had watched the display with widening eyes. Qin Bing, especially, was stunned. She'd always seen Xiao Ke as someone with little natural talent for cultivating Origin Power, someone who had to grind and struggle for every scrap of progress during their nightly training sessions.
But the raw combat ability he'd just shown her was something else entirely. It was a flash of brilliance.
"Well now," she said, a slow smile spreading across her face. "It seems Xiao Ke might just give your man a run for his money."
Qiao Mingxuan shot a dark look at Xiao Ke's distant figure, though he kept his voice light. "I still have my money on Qiao Dong. He's a Level 3. Xiao Ke has some brute strength, I'll give him that. But what is muscle against true Origin Power?"
"At this stage? They're closer than you think," Qin Bing countered, her tone playful but sharp. "The real gap doesn't show up until you reach the General ranks. That's when Origin Power becomes everything, and a man's strength is just a footnote."
She leaned on the railing, warming to her point. "Think about it. There's a ceiling on physical strength. The strongest boxers in the old world, guys like Tyson, could hit with about 900 pounds of force—that's roughly 900 Kahe in Origin Power terms. A thousand pounds is pretty much the absolute human limit. But the moment a warrior breaks into the General ranks, say a Level 4, they're wielding at least 1,000 Kahe without breaking a sweat. So yes, eventually, power cultivation is the only path forward."
She paused, then looked directly at Qiao Mingxuan, who was a Level 5 Battle General himself. "But if, hypothetically, someone could shatter that physical limit… if they could punch with 2,000 pounds of force… they could go toe-to-toe with a Level 5. Someone just like you."
The implication hung in the air. Qiao Mingxuan's jaw tightened. They were supposed to be talking about Xiao Ke, but now she was talking about a theoretical fighter who could challenge him. It felt like a thinly veiled jab.
He scoffed, turning his gaze back to the arena. "A thousand pounds is the limit. That's why we cultivate Origin Power—because it has no limit. The further you go, the more muscle becomes irrelevant." He shifted gears, his voice turning slick. "You seem quite invested in Xiao Ke, Chiliarch. While I, of course, stand by Qiao Dong."
Qin Bing knew perfectly well that Qiao Mingxuan had cheated, secretly feeding Qiao Dong potential-enhancing drugs to fast-track his progress. The thought of a man like that leading her Killer Whales sat poorly with her. After seeing Xiao Ke's grit and skill, she knew who she was rooting for.
She gave him a sly, knowing smile. "Get to the point, Mingxuan."
"A small wager on the outcome?"
Her eyes, long and sharp like a phoenix's, narrowed. "What are you betting?"
His gaze drifted from her face down to the slender, custom-made saber at her hip. "I want your Dragon Scale."
Qin Bing froze. Her saber was a cherished possession, the hilt forged with a pattern like dragon scales. It was a part of her. For him to ask for it was a bold, unmistakable move—a claim.
A slow, dangerous smile played on her lips. Her eyes flicked to the blade at his own hip. It wasn't standard issue; it was a heavy, pitch-black saber that seemed to absorb the light, radiating a quiet menace.
"That's a fine blade you're carrying," she purred. "Master-forged, I'd wager. Must have set you back at least ten thousand gold coins."
A flash of pride crossed his face. "A recent gift. I'm told it cost a hundred thousand. It's called 'Fierce General.'"
The rumors of him being some powerful official's bastard son were likely true, she thought. No mere Centurion could afford such a weapon. She gave a sharp nod, her decision made. "Alright, Mingxuan. You're on. My Dragon Scale against your Fierce General. A small wager."
"Deal!" he said, unable to hide his excitement. The plan was already forming in his mind. Qiao Dong's victory was assured. He'd claim her beloved Dragon Scale, then magnanimously gift her his own Fierce General in its place. An exchange of blades. To any onlooker, it would look like an intimate token between lovers. It was a perfect power move.
A few minutes later, the other two matches concluded. Duan Canglong and Liu Pan had emerged victorious, but only just. Both men were battered, bruised, and utterly spent. They took one look at the untouched Xiao Ke and the confident Qiao Dong and knew the fight was over for them. Without a word, they both conceded.
And then there were two.
The referee waved Xiao Ke and Qiao Dong to the center of the arena. The crowd fell silent.
"The final match will now begin!" his voice boomed across the plaza. "The winner will be the new Centurion of the Killer Whale Battalion! Contestants, prepare yourselves!"