Nyra stood tall in the centre of the arena, her aura flaring like a raging storm. Her sword pulsed with energy as ten luminous butterflies formed around her, fluttering in a glowing arc above her head. With a wave of her hand, the butterflies merged into one colossal butterfly made entirely of spiritual energy.
"This is the end, loser," Nyra declared, her voice cold and triumphant.
With a flick of her wrist, the massive butterfly soared toward Jin, leaving trails of ethereal light in its wake. The moment it struck, a deafening explosion erupted across the arena. Dust billowed high into the sky, shrouding everything in a thick, smoky haze.
From within the dust cloud, Nyra smirked. Her entire body trembled from exhaustion, her legs barely holding her up. Her spiritual energy had been completely drained.
"He's finished," she murmured under her breath. "No one could survive that."
As the dust began to clear, gasps echoed through the crowd. Standing at the centre of the blast zone was Jin. Unscathed. Calm. Not a single scratch marked his body.
Nyra's eyes widened in disbelief. "No... How?"
She staggered backwards, the realisation hitting her like a wave. "I have no energy left... I can't fight anymore."
In the audience, Xing Tian's expression grew serious. "This isn't good."
Jin's brows furrowed. His calm demeanour faded into irritation as he recalled Nyra's earlier taunt.
"You called me a loser," he muttered.
With a burst of speed, Jin vanished from sight.
"White Tiger Fist – Third Form."
A thunderous boom echoed as Jin reappeared in front of Nyra, his glowing fist barreling toward her. She barely registered his movement.
Time seemed to freeze.
Then—
A flash of silver.
Xing Tian appeared between them in the blink of an eye, catching Jin's fist with his bare hand. The resulting shockwave cracked the arena floor, tearing through stone and soil alike. Half the arena collapsed in an instant, debris scattering in every direction.
Silence.
Gasps followed.
Spectators stood frozen, their faces pale.
Some clutched the edges of their seats, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Murmurs broke out, rippling through the crowd like a tide of disbelief.
"Did you see that?"
"He destroyed half the arena with a single punch... and it was stopped."
"What monster strength... and he's just a child."
A few elders exchanged troubled glances, while the younger disciples looked on with fear and awe.
On the edge of the arena, Xing Tian slowly lowered Jin's fist, his face unreadable.
He exhaled deeply, his voice a quiet mutter only he could hear.
"That strength... it was too much. If I hadn't stepped in... she could've died."
His gaze turned toward the silent audience.
Nyra collapsed to her knees, her body unable to withstand the pressure. Her vision darkened as she lost consciousness.
One day later…
In a quiet room within the Nangoum Clan estate, Nyra lay unconscious in bed, her body wrapped in bandages. Her breathing was steady, but her face was pale. Beside her sat her mother, a graceful woman in healer's robes, her hands glowing with soft light as she channelled healing energy into her daughter.
Her father, Lord Song Yun, stood silently nearby, eyes clouded with worry.
Moments later, Xing Tian entered the room. The couple stood and greeted him respectfully.
"No need for formality," Xing Tian said. "How is she?"
"Stable," Nyra's mother replied. "But it will take time."
"I see." Xing Tian sighed. "I'll make sure Jin is punished."
Song Yun waved his hand. "There is no need. It was just a match between children. They must grow and learn."
Xing Tian nodded. "Very well."
Before he turned to leave, Song Yun added, "My father would like to speak with you.
Xing Tian chuckled. "That old bastard still breathing? Alright, I'll be there."
As he exited the room, Jin stood outside the door, his expression unreadable. On his hands were two metallic rings, each glowing faintly.
"These are special weights," Xing Tian said. "Each one seals your cultivation and weighs 100 pounds."
Jin grunted, adjusting to the heavy burden.
"How long do I have to wear them?" he asked.
"Until I say otherwise. Now follow me. We're heading to the training grounds."
Back in Nyra's room, she stirred. Her eyes slowly opened.
"What... happened? Why does my head hurt?"
Her mother leaned forward. "Nyra! You're awake!"
"You don't remember what happened?" her father asked.
Nyra closed her eyes, then memories surged back.
The fight. The defeat. Jin.
She turned away, refusing to speak.
Her parents exchanged worried glances. Moments later, her grandfather entered the room.
Nyra sat up, guilt etched on her face. "I lost... I brought shame to our family. I was overconfident."
Her grandfather placed a hand on her shoulder.
"You did well. But you underestimated your opponent. Jin isn't just a talented fighter. He's something else."
Nyra's eyes narrowed. "He's not that great. I can beat him next time. He's only strong because of his family. Look at Wang Ling—he reached the ninth level of Qi Refining at twelve. He's more of a genius than Jin."
Her grandfather shook his head. "You don't understand. Jin lowered his cultivation level to match yours during the fight."
Nyra's heart skipped a beat. "What? Then... what's his real level?"
"He's at the First Stage of the Golden Core Realm."
Nyra's jaw dropped.
"Impossible! The Martial Emperor Tian Dao reached Golden Core at fifteen. How can Jin be more talented than him?"
Her grandfather grew solemn.
"Martial Emperor Tian Dao was a legendary figure, yes.
Known as the pioneer of modern cultivation, he unified fragmented techniques and formed the Nine Paths of Ascension, which remain the foundation of cultivation today.
He was a master of both martial arts and spiritual doctrine, rumored to have been a reincarnated immortal with memories of the divine realms.
He created hundreds of unique techniques, established five ancient sects, and defeated armies single-handedly.
His breakthroughs inspired generations, and he reached the Golden Core Realm at the unheard-of age of fifteen.
But even he never broke a talent stone.
Jin did.
Do you understand what that means? It means Jin has already surpassed the limits of what we believed possible.
To shatter a talent stone, an artefact created by ancient sages to withstand even the most prodigious spiritual pulses, is not just a show of power—it's a declaration.
A declaration that the future bows to him.
His potential isn't bound by tradition or even by fate. He's not just a genius—he's something else entirely. A prodigy born once in an era, perhaps even once in a world.
If nurtured correctly, there may be no height he cannot reach. No path he cannot walk. His future... is limitless.
Jin did."
Nyra clenched her fists.
"No. He must be hiding something. A secret. I have to find out what it is. And I will expose him."