Ding!
"You have experienced a special battle. In this battle, you slew an enemy three tiers above your own. Your mental energy has undergone an unprecedented surge. Within your body, you sense the birth of a new kind of Qi. Mental Power +10!"
The system notification echoed in Zhao Xuan's ears.
For a long moment, silence blanketed the battlefield.
Zhao Xuan stood motionless, his eyes closed, as if lost in sudden enlightenment.
Qi.
A stream of Qi buried deep within his mind.
It was something completely different from Armament Haki—not merely in nature, but in essence.
This Qi was dense, majestic—far thicker, far stronger than the Armament Haki flowing within his body.
And yet…
No matter how he tried to rouse it with his mental strength, Zhao Xuan could only stir the faintest trace.
The feeling was like standing before a mountain of treasure yet being forbidden to step inside.
Again and again he tried, until his limited mental power was nearly spent.
But the result never changed—he could only mobilize a ten-thousandth of that immense Qi.
Footsteps sounded behind him.
Zhao Xuan opened his eyes.
"Zhao… Brother Zhao?" Fatty Fu called hesitantly as he approached.
"Brother Fu." Zhao Xuan nodded slightly.
"That guy's… dead, right?" Fatty Fu glanced at the mangled corpse of the Demon Cult elder, his tone cautious.
"Yeah, dead."
"Really dead?" Fatty Fu asked again, disbelief in his eyes.
"Relax. He's really dead this time," Zhao Xuan said with a second nod.
"Whew…" Fatty Fu finally let out a long breath. Then he waved toward the others behind him.
The crowd erupted.
"He's dead?"
"Really dead!?"
"Hahahaha! We actually killed a Tier-7 Sovereign!?"
Cheers thundered through the night sky. Faces flushed with excitement, the group could hardly contain themselves.
Then, as if remembering something, Fatty Fu blinked and muttered, "Brother Zhao… if I remember right, didn't that guy die… from sheer rage?"
Everyone froze, then exchanged odd looks as the memory resurfaced. Slowly, their gazes all fell on Zhao Xuan.
Zhao Xuan's expression turned awkward. "Seems… so."
"Holy sh*t!"
"No way!"
"Did we just… piss a Tier-7 Sovereign to death!?"
The shouts turned into deafening laughter.
Originally, for a bunch of third- and Tier-4 ability users to kill a Tier-7 Sovereign was already absurd.
Now to realize the man had literally died of anger—that was beyond comprehension.
Before the laughter subsided, an old man descended from the sky and landed beside the corpse.
White-haired but full of vigor, his eyes shone sharply as he examined the remains.
"Grandpa Jiang!" Fatty Fu greeted me immediately.
"Lord Jiang!"
"President Jiang!" the others called out one after another.
"Little Fu," Jiang Youde said calmly, "what happened here? These wounds—don't tell me you all…?"
"Hehehe." Fatty Fu scratched his head, grinning proudly. "You guessed right, Grandpa Jiang—we killed him!"
Jiang Youde rapped him on the head with a glare. "Quit the suspense and talk."
"Hehe, okay, okay!" Fatty Fu quickly recounted the entire battle in detail.
When he finished, Jiang Youde's expression grew strange.
He gave Zhao Xuan a deep look, then turned back to the corpse and suddenly laughed aloud.
"Hahahaha! Interesting! How very interesting! A dignified elder of the Demon Cult, pissed to death by a bunch of kids barely at third and fourth tier! Hahahaha!"
News spread like wildfire.
"Did you hear?"
"Hear what?"
"The Demon Cult's Tier-7 elder—was literally enraged to death by some kids taking the provincial exam!"
"What!? For real?"
"Of course it's real!"
"Pffft—hahahaha!"
Within hours, the Demon Cult had become the laughingstock of all Hang City.
Meanwhile, word of Zhao Xuan and Di Ruqing's breakthroughs to Tier-4 Minor Grandmaster—and Zhao Xuan's feat of slaying a Tier-5 Demon Scion right after advancing—spread among the City Guards and Ability Guild elites like a storm.
By dawn, the entire city was in an uproar.
"Did you hear? Old Master Jiang's already at the eighth tier!"
"Ha! Anyone who dares mess with Hang City must have a death wish!"
"They say the Demon Cult elder was injured by Jiang Youde, but he was still a Tier-7 Sovereign! Those kids actually attacked instead of running—unbelievable courage!"
"Truly heroes among youth!"
"Hahaha, a Tier-7 elder, angered to death! The Demon Cult's reputation is in shambles!"
"Eighteen years old and already fourth tier! Incredible!"
"And that Zhao Xuan—defeated a Tier-5 master! Outrageous talent!"
Soon, Zhao Xuan's name echoed not only in Hang City but across the entire Nanjiang Province—and even throughout all of Shenzhou.
He had become famous.
Utterly, unmistakably famous.
But Zhao Xuan himself didn't care much.
As the saying goes: "Man fears fame, pig fears fat."
He knew fame brought danger—and surely, the Demon Cult now wanted him dead more than anyone.
Still, he wasn't afraid.
As he put it: "If the enemy comes, I'll block the soldiers; if the flood rises, I'll dam it with earth."
And if the Demon Cult came looking for trouble?
All the better—more fights meant more experience to gain.
The real reassurance came from the jade talisman Jiang Youde had gifted him.
It was hand-crafted by an eighth-tier King himself, sealed with one of Jiang's full-strength attacks—enough to injure an eighth-tier and annihilate a Tier-7.
As Jiang Youde explained, after the Great Purge ten years ago, the Demon Cult had no eighth-tier elders left.
So if they dared to come, they'd simply be marching to their deaths.
The provincial exam resumed soon after the chaos.
Of the original five finalists—Zhao Xuan, Di Ruqing, Fu Jieyan (Fatty Fu), Wang Defa, and Zhao Shi—one was dead: Zhao Shi, the Demon Cult's infiltrator and Demon Scion, slain by Zhao Xuan.
That left four contestants.
Perfect for two duels, to decide the top two.
Zhao Xuan's opponent was Wang Defa, a user of the Momo Fruit.
His strength wasn't weak at all—though only third-tier, he could fight on par with Tier-4s.
But unfortunately for him, his opponent was Zhao Xuan—whose power rivaled Tier-5 masters.
Barely ten minutes later, after entering his Minor Dragon Form, Zhao Xuan crushed him.
Next came Di Ruqing versus Fatty Fu.
By all logic, the Natural-type user Di Ruqing should have had the upper hand.
Yet the result shocked everyone—after half an hour of fierce battle, Di Ruqing lost.
Fatty Fu had mastered dual-blade swordsmanship and Armament Haki to the master level.
In the two days since the Demon Cult's attack, he'd grown monstrously strong.
Without even using his Devil Fruit, his blades alone overwhelmed Di Ruqing.
When he won, Fatty Fu raised his head proudly and looked straight at Zhao Xuan.
Their eyes met—burning with a fighting spirit.
Zhao Xuan grinned. "Interesting."
He was genuinely happy for his friend's progress—after all, the stronger Fatty Fu became, the better for Zhao Xuan.
A worthy rival meant greater rewards.
But make no mistake—there was only one slot for the National Exam, and Zhao Xuan had no intention of giving it up.
Just imagining the powerhouses he'd face there filled him with excitement.
In the viewing stands, Jiang Youde chuckled.
"Old Fu, if I'm not mistaken, your boy's already reached fourth tier, hasn't he?"
Fu Haojie nodded proudly. "Yes, he broke through the night the Demon Cult attacked."
"Excellent—eighteen and already Tier-4. A bright future indeed." Jiang Youde sighed.
Fu Haojie's gaze deepened. "If this were a year ago, I'd agree. But since early this year, the world's spiritual energy has thickened drastically. The fourth tier isn't what it used to be. I've heard of quite a few young talents breaking through."
"The winds of change are coming," Jiang Youde murmured.
"Yes," Fu Haojie nodded. "A storm is brewing."
The surge in spiritual energy would not only benefit humanity—but also the beasts lurking in mountains and seas.
Time passed quickly.
The next morning, the finals of the 2021 Nanjiang Provincial Martial Exam officially began.
Zhao Xuan and Fu Jieyan stepped onto the newly rebuilt arena—its surface now paved with rare Tier-4 blue bricks, each twenty times more expensive than before.
The cost of the new platform alone exceeded seventy million credits—a clear sign of how seriously the authorities took this duel.
The referee's whistle cut through the air.
The final match began.
Neither moved.
They simply stared at each other in silence.
"Brother Zhao," Fatty Fu said with a faint smile, "ever since I met you in the Dream Realm, I knew this day would come."
Then—he moved.
Black-violet mist enveloped his body. When it dispersed, a towering, four-meter-tall figure with eight muscular arms stood revealed—terrifying and majestic.
Eight-Armed Asura.
Fatty Fu's Devil Fruit: Zoan-type, Human-Human Fruit, Model: Eight-Armed Asura—technically a Mythical Zoan.
"Starting off with your Fruit ability, huh?" Zhao Xuan muttered.
Then he activated his own—entering Minor Dragon Form.
Fivefold amplification.
His physique instantly surpassed five thousand.
The pressure Fatty Fu emitted faded to half.
"Look down on me, and you'll pay the price!" Fatty Fu's distorted Asura voice roared.
Then he charged—eight blades gleaming coldly.
"Eight-Blade Style—Heaven-Splitter!"
Eight swords swung, one after another, each shadow overlapping the last.
A massive sword aura cleaved through the air like a colossal axe, splitting even the wind itself.
Zhao Xuan's eyes narrowed.
"What a strike!"
He admitted—he'd underestimated his friend.
With a roar, Zhao Xuan entered Dragonman Form.
Lightning coiled over his chest, forming a storm-forged armor.
The giant axe-shaped sword aura crashed down.
BOOM!
Lightning armor shattered.
The sword aura struck Zhao Xuan's chest—and exploded into eight razor-sharp slashes, carving bloody marks across his torso.
A mere scratch—but still, a hit.
Proof of Fatty Fu's terrifying skill.
Zhao Xuan touched his wounds, then laughed wildly.
"Interesting! Hahahahaha!"
Battle intent surged.
He dashed forward as Fatty Fu lunged to meet him.
"Eight-Blade Style—Thousand Edge!"
Hundreds of sword auras rained toward Zhao Xuan like a storm.
The air screamed under their pressure, winds so fierce they blew back the lower-ranked staff around the ring.
Zhao Xuan stopped, drew back his fist, and struck.
Lightning burst forth—violet arcs coiling around his arm, merging with his Armament Haki until his entire fist turned black-purple.
"Thunder—Bagua!"
The punch tore through the air, detonating the storm of blades in an instant.
Sword light vanished.
Explosions roared one after another, cracking the blue-brick arena beneath them.
The audience gasped.
"Monsters! They're monsters!"
"That's not Tier-4 power—it's fifth! No, Tier-6!"
"Unbelievable!"
Even with several Tier-6 masters reinforcing the arena with Haki barriers, the shockwaves made the entire stadium tremble.
Within that maelstrom of destruction, the two fighters clashed again and again—until finally, both leapt back, panting.
"Brother Zhao," Fatty Fu rasped, "one move. Let's decide it all in one move!"
As he spoke, his eight arms rose skyward.
"Eight-Blade Style—Asura!"
A colossal phantom Asura manifested above him, gripping a sword of pure killing intent.
It swung down with world-shattering force.
Zhao Xuan roared in reply, golden lightning surging around him.
"No matter how many forms you take—"
"I'll shatter them all with one strike!"
His punch met the falling sword.
BOOM!
A blinding explosion engulfed the arena.
Even the reinforced Haki barrier quivered violently under the shockwave.
"This power—it's… Tier-6!"
Gasps echoed through the hall as people watched in awe and disbelief.
When the dust finally settled, silence reigned.
Slowly, a lone figure appeared amid the haze—tall, proud, his clothes torn but his spirit unbroken.
Sword brows, starry eyes, a face like carved jade—handsome, radiant, unstoppable.
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