Lord Wei Long sat in his dark chamber, the air thick with malice. Word of Sun Shi's victory had reached his ears, and what he heard chilled him to the bone—not because of fear, but because of challenge. A boy with a double chi core… such a being could shake the heavens. He would not allow it.
Without hesitation, Wei Long made his move. At the Obsidian Moon Sect's grand hall, he stood before his elite disciples—dozens of warriors clad in obsidian robes, trained in merciless arts.
"With this command," he declared, "I order you to burn the Shaolin Sect to the ground. Leave no trace of their legacy."
The disciples bowed in unison, their voices thundering like war drums.
"For the Obsidian Ruler!"
Back at the Shaolin Sect, the mood was joyous. Following Sun Shi's hard-earned victory, the elders finally relaxed their strict rules. For the first time in years, the disciples were allowed to feast, drink wine, and even indulge in meat. The courtyard buzzed with laughter and camaraderie. Sun Shi, usually reserved, found himself at the center of attention—offering humble words to fellow disciples and receiving praise from instructors.
That evening, under the pale moonlight, Sun Shi walked alone in the garden behind the hall. The night was quiet, until a familiar voice broke the silence.
"Congratulations on your win."
He turned. Lan Mei stood before him, a faint smile on her lips.
"Yeah, thanks," he replied, rubbing the back of his head. "You were really strong out there—especially your… Falling Lotus Stance. Almost called it aikido."
She chuckled. "Well, it's not much of a stance if it lost to whatever strange style you used."
"I call it strange too," Sun Shi replied, smiling. "But I know you'll come back stronger."
"I will," she said, her tone sincere. "And next time, I'll win."
They shared a brief handshake. It was a strange moment of mutual respect—awkward, but honest.
As Lan Mei turned to leave, another figure stepped from the shadows. It was the Shaolin Sect Chief, standing with his arms crossed and a warm smirk on his face.
"Were you watching us?" Sun Shi asked, startled.
"I was here first," the Chief said with a chuckle.
Sun Shi laughed awkwardly. "That's kinda creepy, Chief."
"No worries," he replied, placing a hand behind his back. "I won't tell anyone. Do not worry"
He looked up at the sky, the stars reflected in his aging eyes.
"When a spark rises too high, even the clouds notice. And not all clouds bring rain—some bring thunder."
He turned to Sun Shi. "It's only the beginning, Sun Shi. When your power becomes known to the world, you won't just attract allies—you'll awaken the sleeping giants. Conflict will follow you like a shadow."
Sun Shi smiled. "Then I'll solve every single one of them."
The Chief smiled. "Hohoho… This might be the golden age of Shaolin after all."
But their peaceful night shattered with a deafening boom.
A disciple sprinted into the courtyard, panic in his eyes. "Master! Intruders! Explosions at the gate!"
"Who?" the Chief demanded.
"It's the Obsidian Moon Sect!"
The Chief's eyes went wide. "Sun Shi—run. Now. As far from here as you can."
"What? No! We can fight them off together!" Sun Shi shouted, grabbing the Chief's shoulder.
"No," the Chief said firmly. "They're not here for the sect. They want you—your chi core. If they get to you, everything we've protected collapses."
"But—"
"There are those who might one day be worthy of your teachings. But not if you die here!"
Another explosion rocked the ground. Instructor Li appeared, blood on his robes. "They've breached the inner gate!"
The Chief turned to Sun Shi, kneeling before him. "I've always watched you like my own grandson. You remind me of him—brave, stubborn, full of light."
Tears welled up in Sun Shi's eyes. "Chief…"
"You must survive, boy," he said, patting his shoulder. "Shaolin is already stained. It is you who must restore it. Let your fist carry our legacy."
The Chief stood and turned toward the battlefield.
"Go. Now."
Sun Shi ran—tears streaming down his face—as the Shaolin warriors rose to meet the invaders.
The courtyard became a battleground. Shaolin disciples fought fiercely, their movements flowing with years of training. Tiger Claw, Crane Style, Snake Fang—they used every technique they knew. For a moment, it seemed they could hold the line.
But then... the ground turned black.
A cold voice whispered from the shadows, "Black Claw."
From beneath the earth, hundreds of dark scythes erupted like spikes, impaling warriors where they stood. Even the Chief, in mid-strike, was pierced through the chest.
Wei Long stepped into the light, his presence suffocating.
"Where is the boy who won the tournament?" he asked.
The Chief, coughing blood, looked up at him. "You'll never find him… not even in heaven."
"Fool," Wei Long sneered. "Tell me now, and I'll spare your men."
All surviving Shaolin warriors, battered and bleeding, stood together and shouted:
"NO!"
"So be it," Wei Long said coldly. "You've chosen the path of your demise"
Far from the battle, Sun Shi reached the edge of a cliff overlooking the sect.
A massive explosion rocked the earth. A burning shockwave erupted, swallowing the Shaolin grounds in black fire. The mountain trembled. The sky lit red.
Sun Shi fell to his knees, watching everything he knew crumble into dust.
His fists dug into the dirt. He screamed to the heavens, his voice cracking with grief and rage.
"You will pay for the destiny you've brought upon me!"
He stood, eyes burning with resolve.
"I, Sun Shi, swear—my fist will pierce the heavens themselves. I will forge a path of justice. My fist… will be equal to heaven."