At the mouth of Gale Canyon, a relatively flat clearing had been turned into a makeshift arena. The spectators held their breath, eyes fixed on the two figures facing each other across the field.
On one side stood the leader of the younger generation of Godwind Academy—sixteen-year-old Feng Xiaotian, Soul Elder, martial soul: Stormwind Doubleheaded Wolf. Two yellow and one purple soul rings slowly circled his body. On the other side was Chen Yi, hailed as the continent's first genius and the young master of the Body Sect. He simply stood there, no soul power fluctuating around him, with his Martial Spirit unreleased, looking for all the world like an ordinary boy from next door—a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere.
Feng Xiaotian's heart pounded as he gazed at Chen Yi. While he doubted the rumors of Chen Yi's prowess, he knew those raised directly by such powerful figures had to be far stronger than ordinary people. Chen Yi met Feng Xiaotian's gaze calmly and broke the stagnant silence with a clear, unhurried voice:
"Brother Feng, don't be so nervous. Bing'er told me you've created your own skill—the 'Stormwind Demon Wolf's Twenty Four Successive Chops.' I've heard it's powerful, but never seen it before. Since we have the chance today, could I see it?"
His tone was friendly and light, as if chatting with a friend. Feng Xiaotian felt his nerves ease a little—even as Chen Yi named his strongest hidden card. The unforced, natural way Chen Yi spoke left him feeling almost disregarded as a threat. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Feng Xiaotian replied in a low voice:
"Since the young sect master wishes to see it, please be careful!"
Before he'd finished speaking, his soul power exploded; his broad, blue-green wings behind him shook violently, lifting him off the ground and into the air! He knew Chen Yi was giving him the chance to go all out, which made him respect his opponent... but seeing Chen Yi still not even releasing his Martial Spirit, a bitter mix of humiliation and anger surged in his chest. Was he truly so underestimated?
"First Slash!"
No more hesitation. Feng Xiaotian's eyes flashed sharply; his body spun nimbly in midair, the edges of his wings condensing into razor-sharp wind blades. Two giant blue-green scythes whistled toward Chen Yi from either side. Combining the force of his wings, the momentum of descent, and the Stormwind Doubleheaded Wolf's speed and sharpness, this attack was a perfect blend of power and velocity. Yet Chen Yi didn't even move his feet. He calmly raised his hand, palm open, a thin halo of purple-gold soul power enveloping it.
Clang! Clang!
Two crisp metallic sounds rang out almost at once! Feng Xiaotian's powerful first slash was stopped easily, Chen Yi catching the attack with his bare palm, the blue-green wing blades bouncing off the purple-gold glow without leaving a mark. Feng Xiaotian's pupils shrank in shock and fear. This first slash already contained over thirty percent of his soul power, but Chen Yi blocked it barehanded—without even using his Martial Spirit.
"Impossible!"
Feng Xiaotian roared inwardly, using the recoil to soar higher, his soul power surging wildly.
"Second Slash! Third! Fourth—!"
One after another, sharp, fast wing slashes came storming in from clever angles, his silhouette blurring as his broad wings turned into blades, axes, whips, exploiting every aerial advantage. The Stormwind Doubleheaded Wolf's signature move—twenty-four consecutive slashes, each stronger and faster than the last, culminating in a final, devastating strike.
Spectators outside the arena were dazzled and awestruck:
"What exquisite wing-blade technique! He can use his wings for such unpredictable attacks?"
"This is Godwind Academy's top genius? He truly lives up to the name!"
"But will Young Sect Master Chen be able to stop it barehanded? Is his flesh made of iron?!"
Even the usually composed Grand Elder nodded in admiration at Feng Xiaotian's display:
"To combine his Martial Spirit's characteristics with personal insight, creating a continuous wing-blade combat technique at such a young age—this child has both understanding and creativity. Impressive."
Dean Feng Ao, hearing this, managed only a self-deprecating smile, "Our reputation is too high. Such minor skills can't compare to Young Sect Master Chen. How could they possibly suffice?"
The Grand Elder's tone grew a little more serious:
"He has talent, yes. But at sixteen, a soul master's golden period is for building foundations and improving soul power. How much time can he afford to pour into soul skill creation? You elders should understand this, even if the child doesn't."
Feng Ao's face grew even more bitter, sighing, "We... we didn't know. Xiaotian's talent let him outpace his peers, so we allowed him to explore his own soul techniques. Perhaps we were too lenient..."
The Grand Elder shook his head, regret in his voice:
"Standing ahead of your peers now? Once this golden period is passed, catching up will cost ten—or a hundred times more! And let me be frank: with his natural gifts, even now his soul power is only at thirty-fifth rank. Is that so impressive among so-called peers? A true genius wouldn't sacrifice roots for branches."
His words struck Feng Ao like a bell, leaving his face pale and cold sweat trickling down. He realized the Grand Elder only cared to say such things because he had hope for them—even as he felt both grateful and ashamed.
Meanwhile, on the field, Feng Xiaotian had reached the twenty-third of his Stormwind Doubleheaded Wolf's twenty-four slashes. His entire soul power surged, momentum peaking, blue wind blades on his wings darkening to an inky blue-black as their pressure carved deep marks into the earth. This blow could seriously injure even a Soul King!
"Take this!"
Pouring all his power into this slash, his wings crossed before him, forming a massive blue-black wind blade that tore at Chen Yi with the force to split mountains. This time, Chen Yi finally stopped blocking with just one hand. He held his left hand forward, right hand behind, palms facing each other, as an invisible cyclone formed between them. Instead of meeting the attack head-on, he drew his palms back in a mysterious arc. The moment Feng Xiaotian's blade touched the cyclone, its momentum was swallowed as if trapped in a bog, its terrifying force subtly redirected and diffused.
Buzz—!
The wind blade howled, skimming the edge of Chen Yi's robe before flying off to shatter a distant boulder. Chen Yi still stood unmoved, his hair and clothes barely ruffled.
"How... how is this possible?!"
Feng Xiaotian staggered and sank to the ground, staring at Chen Yi—eyes full of despair and confusion. His best slash had been resolved effortlessly; he hadn't even forced Chen Yi to use his Martial Spirit. The frustration chilled him to the bone, but stubborn pride kept him from admitting defeat.
"Twenty-fourth Slash!"
With a beastly roar, he squeezed out the last of his soul power, his wings spreading wide as he spun rapidly into a giant blue-green tornado, charging faster and fiercer than ever at Chen Yi. The strain made blood trickle from his lips.
Chen Yi regarded the desperate, tragic charge with a faint sigh. No longer simply neutralizing; now purple-gold thunder flickered over his palm as he pressed forward with a gentle but majestic force, striking the eye of the tornado dead-on.
Bang!
Feng Xiaotian's momentum was halted instantly, the violent rotation vanishing against an invisible, unbreakable wall. He was sent flying backward, tracing a parabola through the air before landing more than twenty meters away. He staggered to his knees, gasping for breath, face as white as paper, wings drooping weakly behind him. He looked up at Chen Yi, who stood as calmly as ever, not even short of breath—as if he'd just brushed off a speck of dust.
Defeated. Utterly, simply, and without suspense. He hadn't even qualified to force Chen Yi to reveal his Martial Spirit or soul skills.
Chen Yi slowly approached, his voice as calm as ever:
"Your self-created soul skill is a good idea, and you utilize your wings' characteristics well. But you focus too much on chaining movements and stacking force, overlooking the basics and the essence of soul power. At your current level, forcibly layering power puts great strain on your meridians and scapula, and the effect isn't ideal. Rather than pouring so much energy into an immature self-made skill, you'd do better to focus on reality and raise your soul power first. It's still too early for you."
His words pierced Feng Xiaotian's last shreds of hope and pride like icy needles. He opened his mouth to argue, but before absolute strength, all words felt pale and powerless.
As soon as Chen Yi finished, he turned away without another glance, walking quietly toward the elder waiting at the side. The sun shone on his straight back, gilding him in gold, starkly and cruelly contrasting the defeated, kneeling Feng Xiaotian.
The elder merely nodded and turned, his blue robe billowing as he led the way away, never once mentioning the outcome of the match—as if everything had been preordained.
Chen Yi followed closely. The two quickly disappeared from sight, leaving only the dead silence at the canyon entrance and the kneeling, exhausted Feng Xiaotian.
Dean Feng Ao watched them go, feelings conflicted—grateful for the elder's guidance, worried for his grandson's future. He walked to Feng Xiaotian's side, gazing at his downcast face and drooping wings, finally only able to sigh deeply.
All he could hope was that, after this utter defeat, Feng Xiaotian would awaken, let go of unrealistic dreams, and return to the proper path of soul cultivation. Perhaps this bitter lesson could become a stepping stone for his future.
…
Bonus chapter at 300 PS
Read advanced chapters at patreon.com/AbsoluteCode