A heavy silence hung in the air like the calm before a storm. The crowd surrounding the platform stared in disbelief, their eyes fixed on the youth in black robes standing tall beneath the sky. The boy they once laughed at—the 'trash' young master of the Li family—now stood victorious, untouched, his sword still sheathed, and his gentle smile utterly unfazed.
The platform, once thought to be the stage for his humiliation, had become his throne.
Yun Han, the pride of the Yun family, had been defeated—not in a fierce back-and-forth struggle, but in a single exchange. No wounds. No wasted movements. Just a clean, effortless dismissal.
Not a soul below dared to challenge the result.
It was too absolute.
Li Yang didn't bask in their stares. He simply stood there, calm as ever, as though none of this surprised him. The crowd, however, had begun to shift uneasily. They came expecting the Li family to be disgraced. Instead, they were witnessing a miracle.
Their confused whispers circled like wind:
"Wasn't he crippled?""I heard he never cultivated at all!""How is he... this strong?"
Even the younger generation of the Li family—those who had once mocked him, those who never once called him "Young Master"—now looked away, ashamed to meet his gaze.
But all eyes were slowly drawn to a figure who had yet to move since the beginning of the competition—a boy sitting cross-legged in the distance, eyes still closed, as if uninterested in the commotion.
Zhang Yu.Genius of the Zhang family.Windborn prodigy.And the final hope of the two allied clans.
He slowly opened his eyes.
As he rose, a gentle breeze swept across the arena.
Every gaze turned toward him. His movement was fluid, precise, and filled with confidence. But it wasn't arrogance. It was the calm self-assurance of someone who had never been defeated.
Zhang Yu stepped onto the platform. Unlike Yun Han, he didn't rush forward in rage. He observed. His sharp eyes scanned Li Yang's posture, his sword, his relaxed stance, and that maddeningly calm smile.
That sword... it's barely touched the wind, yet it carries weight.
Zhang Yu narrowed his eyes.
"There's no cultivation," he thought, confusion bubbling in his heart. "But I can feel danger. Not killing intent... not spiritual power... something deeper. Hidden."
Finally, he spoke aloud. His voice was calm, even complimentary—though laced with skepticism. "Why are you hiding your cultivation? To defeat Yun Han's saber intent, one would need high-level sword comprehension. The people down there call you trash, but honestly..." he stepped forward, "compared to you, they're the real trash."
The crowd gasped, stunned by the declaration.
Zhang Yu smiled slightly. "I thought this competition would be boring. But you—you're interesting."
But Li Yang just tilted his head. "You talk too much. If you're here to fight, then fight. Or get off the platform."
The words struck like a slap.
Zhang Yu's smile froze. His face darkened, his pride pricked.
He dares... look down on me?
Without a word, he vanished from view.
A gust of wind burst forth as his figure blurred into streaks of motion, faster than most could follow. Even the elders narrowed their eyes.
"He's using wind fusion footwork... at his age?!" one elder muttered.
In less than a breath, Zhang Yu appeared at Li Yang's right, a punch already in motion.
But—
Clang!
The punch met cold steel.
Li Yang hadn't even drawn the sword. He had simply turned and raised the sheath.
Zhang Yu's eyes widened.
His full force. His speed. Yet the sword hadn't even shifted an inch.
Before he could recover, he tried to pivot—swinging his leg toward Li Yang's abdomen. A sharp, sweeping kick aimed to cripple. But—
Clang!
The sword moved again. Smooth. Predictive. Almost lazy.
He saw through me.
Zhang Yu was thrown backward, landing at the platform's edge. Pain bloomed in his limbs. He looked at Li Yang with disbelief.
"How... did he read me like that?"
Li Yang's voice drifted softly across the platform. "Your movements are fast. But your intent is fragile. You rely too much on the wind to carry you."
Zhang Yu grit his teeth.
The elders of the Zhang family looked on in horror. This wasn't just a fluke. Li Yang wasn't lucky. He was in control.
Jiang Wu, hidden among the crowd, clenched his fists. Zhang Yu understood primary wind intent by the age of fifteen... And yet... he's being played with. The world tilted before his eyes.
"Even geniuses are being thrown around now... What has the world come to?"
Zhang Yu roared.
Wind burst out of his body like a hurricane. He became a blur, circling Li Yang from all directions, his form flickering in and out of view.
This was his signature—Heavenly Gale Steps.
No one could trace his trajectory.
And then, just as he spotted the slightest opening in Li Yang's stance, he struck—his legs whipping out like a storm.
He imagined it all: the shocked gasps, Li Yang's broken figure sailing off the platform—
But then—
Snap.
A hand clamped tightly around his leg mid-attack.
The world flipped.
With monstrous force, Zhang Yu was yanked mid-air and slammed into the stone platform. The impact cracked the ground.
He tried to scream, but no air came. His ribs were shattered. His vision blurred.
Above him stood Li Yang, staring down in pity. "You're fast. But predictable."
And then—
Wham.
A single kick.
Zhang Yu was launched off the platform like discarded waste.
The world went silent.
Then came the roar.
Cheers erupted like a tidal wave.
"The Li family won!""They crushed the Yun and Zhang families!""That's Li Yang! The sleeping dragon!"
The Grand Elder of the Li family shot to his feet, emotion choking his throat. He had walked into this tournament expecting humiliation. But now...
Victory.
Dominance.
He turned to the elders of the other two families, eyes gleaming with unrestrained pride. "Well? Where are your geniuses now?" he said, voice dripping with mockery.
"Didn't you say my Li family was finished?"
He turned his gaze back to the boy on the platform.
Li Yang stood alone.
Unyielding.
Undefeated.
The Grand Elder's heart swelled with pride—and pain. He had barely spoken to this boy in two years. The child who had quietly entered their home, bearing an unimaginable past, now stood as a giant before the world.
This boy... he doesn't belong here.
He's a dragon.And dragons... were never meant to stay grounded.