The Winner Moves On

This time, the gray wind no longer felt unfamiliar.

But to Hao Nhien, it was still extremely powerful.

Perhaps because this place was already close to the end of the body tempering section, every gust was sharp as a blade. The gravity beneath his feet also shifted unpredictably, as though an invisible hand were deliberately trying to pull anyone standing on the stone steps off balance.

Hao Nhien deliberately relaxed for half a breath.

Boom!

His entire body was immediately slammed into the stone wall by the wind.

A sharp pain shot through his right shoulder.

A small cut opened across his flesh.

The meridians across his back were stretched until they burned.

But he did not panic.

His right foot dug into the stone.

His hips turned.

His shoulder lowered.

His center of gravity quickly returned.

Before he had fully stabilized, another gust struck.

His body was immediately pushed back another step.

Pain.

Still pain.

If anyone saw this, they might truly think he had a habit of torturing himself.

Hao Nhien could not entirely deny it.

At least right now, he really was seeking out pain on purpose.

But the pain was useful.

Then enduring a little was worth it.

It took almost half an incense stick before he returned to the entrance of the eighth stone chamber.

Hao Nhien stepped inside.

Dense spiritual qi immediately surrounded him.

He sat down.

And began breathing cultivation.

True qi circulated through his shoulders, back, and arms.

Vitality followed the flow of true qi, nourishing the places that had just been injured.

The bleeding from his shoulder gradually stopped.

The burning sensation in his meridians also slowly eased.

The Soul Nourishing Qi in the chamber silently touched his awareness.

The mind that had just been stretched tight outside gradually settled again.

Hao Nhien could feel it very clearly.

Each time he did this, his body did not become so much stronger that the difference was immediately obvious.

But his ability to adapt to pressure improved a little.

His muscles learned how to bear force more efficiently.

His meridians gradually became more accustomed to being stretched and then contracting again.

Even his mind no longer tightened as much when the wind suddenly changed direction.

In less than half an incense stick.

Hao Nhien opened his eyes.

He stood again.

The second time.

Go down.

Let the wind strike him.

Let his body bear the force.

Return.

Recover.

The third time.

This time, Hao Nhien went several steps farther.

He deliberately allowed the gravity to press down on his knees.

Both legs immediately began to tremble.

His thighs ached sharply.

His calves tightened.

But he did not retreat at once.

His entire body bore the pressure together.

Shoulders.

Hips.

Back.

Knees.

Feet.

Only when the trembling in his legs was about to exceed his control did he turn back.

When he returned to the eighth chamber, the recovery this time was clearly deeper.

Quan Mac finally opened his eyes.

He stared at Hao Nhien for a long time.

At first, his gaze held surprise.

Then it gradually became difficult to describe.

The corner of his mouth even twitched slightly.

Finally, he asked hoarsely:

“Are you... all right?”

Hao Nhien nodded while regulating his breathing.

“Mm.”

Quan Mac fell silent.

After a while.

He closed his eyes again.

And asked no more.

Hao Nhien ignored it.

The fourth time.

He stepped outside again.

By now, his body had adapted a little further.

He did not dare say he could easily cross whatever lay above.

But at the very least, if he encountered similar pressure again, he had a little more to rely on.

Hao Nhien descended once more.

Let the wind press against him.

Let gravity pull at him.

His shoulder hurt.

His back burned.

His meridians tightened.

Everything was the same as the previous three times.

Once it felt like enough, he turned back upward.

The entrance to the eighth chamber was right before him.

Hao Nhien stepped forward.

Boom!

An invisible force suddenly appeared.

The door was clearly only half a step away.

But it felt as though he had slammed into an unseen wall.

His body was thrown backward.

The wind behind him immediately swept in.

Hao Nhien’s expression changed.

Both hands quickly grabbed the edge of the stone step.

Pain shot through his fingertips.

Only then did he barely manage to keep himself from being swept away.

“What is this?”

He gritted his teeth.

Stabilized himself.

Then tried to move forward again.

The repelling force appeared once more.

This time, it was even clearer.

Not violent enough to injure him.

But the meaning was simple.

No entry.

Hao Nhien stood outside the door.

The wind whipped his hair into chaos.

The torn edges of his robe constantly slapped against his body.

He stared at the door before him.

Silent for a moment.

“Only three times?”

Hao Nhien reached out and tried touching the stone door.

A cold fluctuation immediately passed through it.

There was no voice.

No clear intent.

But the feeling was difficult to misunderstand.

That was enough.

Hao Nhien gave a bitter smile.

“All right.”

“Ignorance is no sin.”

“Looks like three times is the limit.”

He lowered his gaze to his hands.

Even though he had been blocked, he had lost nothing.

Those three cycles of breaking and rebuilding in the eighth chamber had allowed his body, meridians, and soul power to accumulate a little more.

Not much.

But it was real.

To Hao Nhien, every small improvement was valuable.

He did not insist any further.

If the secret realm would not let him return.

Then he would continue forward.

Hao Nhien turned around.

And looked upward.

According to his guess, the next section should be even more terrifying.

But when he passed the bend ahead, his steps suddenly stopped.

There were no twenty steps.

No gray wind.

No mountain like gravity.

Beyond the bend.

There were only three stone steps.

Three short steps.

At the end of the third stood a large silver gray door.

Hao Nhien remained still for several breaths.

Then laughed.

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“So the body tempering ends after the eighth chamber.”

If he had known only three steps remained.

Perhaps he would not have been so tense.

But on second thought.

If he had not believed there was still greater danger ahead, he might not have gone back to make use of the eighth chamber three times.

Sometimes.

Not knowing was useful too.

Hao Nhien stepped upward.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

No pressure.

No wind.

Only the soft sound of his footsteps echoed through the empty passage.

He placed his hand on the door.

The stone door opened on its own.

Behind it was a large chamber.

Empty.

Completely different from the resting chambers before.

There was no dense spiritual qi.

No obvious recovery formation.

At the center of the chamber stood only an ancient stone arena.

Square.

Raised about three feet above the floor.

The surface was covered in fist marks.

Footprints.

Cracks.

There were even several dark stains that had dried there countless years ago.

Above the arena.

Four large red characters floated in the air.

THE WINNER MOVES ON

Hao Nhien’s eyes brightened slightly.

“Fist.”

If the previous section had been Body.

Then this place was very likely Fist.

Someone was already standing on the arena.

He wore faded silver gray clothes.

Average build.

An unremarkable face.

But his aura was deep.

Steady.

Like a block of mountain stone weathered by wind and rain for years.

He stood still.

Both hands hanging naturally at his sides.

Not impatient.

Nor deliberately releasing killing intent.

At the center of the arena was a small stone pedestal.

Two deep handprints were carved into it.

The man in silver gray stepped forward.

And placed his hand into one.

A black pillar of light immediately appeared.

Running from his feet to the top of his head.

As though measuring something.

After several breaths.

The black slowly turned pale red.

Then stabilized.

The man looked toward Hao Nhien.

Hao Nhien understood.

He stepped forward.

And placed his hand into the remaining depression.

Cold.

Then immediately hot.

A force flowed from the pedestal into his palm.

Sweeping through his flesh.

Meridians.

Dantian.

Bones.

The pillar of light before him appeared ash gray.

It fluctuated for several breaths.

Then slowly turned pale red as well.

Finally stabilizing at a level almost equal to the other man’s.

At that exact moment.

A warm current flowed from the pedestal into Hao Nhien’s body.

His expression changed immediately.

The true qi in his dantian surged.

It was not a breakthrough.

Nor had his own true qi suddenly increased.

It felt more like an external force was temporarily supporting his body.

His meridians tightened.

His muscles burned hot.

The strength in his limbs rose by a clear degree.

Hao Nhien clenched his fist.

His heartbeat quickened.

This power...

Clearly exceeded what he normally possessed at the sixth layer of Qi Condensation.

He tried to mobilize the Spirit Sword within his meridians.

The Spirit Sword softly responded to his intent.

Its pale blue light remained the same.

No increase.

No obvious change.

Hao Nhien’s heart stirred slightly.

The arena did not seem to interfere with the soul.

“If this were a reward...”

“It would be far too great.”

But immediately afterward.

He rejected the thought.

No.

This did not feel like a reward.

It felt more like a condition of the match.

The man in silver gray looked at him.

“You’re Hao Nhien from Dong City?”

Hao Nhien was slightly surprised.

But quickly remembered that this man might have seen him in the square outside.

He nodded.

“That’s right.”

The man gave a faint snort.

“My name doesn’t matter.”

“Win first, then ask.”

Hao Nhien raised an eyebrow.

Quite the tone.

But not enough to be irritating.

The man rotated his wrist.

His joints gave several faint cracks.

“You can feel your strength increasing?”

Hao Nhien did not deny it.

“Yes.”

“I’m the opposite.”

The man looked at his own hand.

“The rules are suppressing part of my strength.”

“Looks like this place wants us to fight at roughly the same level of power.”

Hao Nhien narrowed his eyes slightly.

He still did not understand exactly how far this mechanism went.

He only knew the strength within his own body had increased.

While the other man had been restricted.

Whether anything else had been affected.

He could not yet be certain.

The man in silver gray continued:

“You aren’t used to that strength.”

“I’ll give you half an incense stick.”

“Get used to it.”

Hao Nhien looked at him.

There was arrogance in the man’s voice.

But not the unreasonable kind that came from contempt.

At the very least, he clearly did not want to defeat someone who had not yet become accustomed to the strength in his own body.

Hao Nhien cupped his hands.

“Thank you.”

He did not stand on ceremony.

He immediately stepped aside.

And began familiarizing himself with the new power.

A straight punch.

The air in front of his fist gave a faint whistle.

Turn the hips.

Force traveled from the feet to the shoulders faster than before.

Advance.

Stop.

Retreat.

Stop.

Step sideways.

Stop.

The simple three step footwork he had practiced countless times.

But with a higher level of strength supporting his body, many details immediately changed.

Some movements his body had previously lacked the strength to complete fully.

Now he could.

Some changes of direction that had previously been too slow.

Were now faster.

Hao Nhien did not waste the half incense stick.

He did not try anything flashy.

Only straight punches.

Elbow strikes.

Leg sweeps.

Short retreats.

Closing distance.

He repeated each movement several times.

Feeling the force.

Feeling the speed.

Feeling the delay between intent and body.

Half an incense stick passed quickly.

The man in silver gray stepped forward.

The two stood opposite each other on the arena.

No hatred.

No killing intent.

Only seriousness.

The other man moved first.

One step.

Not fast.

But extremely steady.

A straight punch shot forward.

No flourish.

No display.

Only a direct attack toward Hao Nhien’s centerline.

The force behind it was heavy as a hammer.

Hao Nhien leaned aside.

Avoiding it by half an inch.

Then countered with three consecutive punches.

Chest.

Ribs.

Lower body.

Fast.

Clean.

Decisive.

The man in silver gray did not retreat.

His body suddenly softened in a strange way.

Shoulder tilted.

Hips turned.

Most of the force from Hao Nhien’s first two punches was dissolved.

At the third, the man lowered his knee to block.

At the same time, he turned his body.

A horizontal leg sweep.

Immediately followed by a straight kick.

Two movements linked together.

Extremely familiar motions.

Hao Nhien sprang away from the sweep.

But the moment he landed, an elbow shot upward from below.

Boom!

His left shoulder burned as though struck by red hot iron.

Hao Nhien retreated half a step.

His qi and blood immediately surged.

He laughed.

“Good!”

The man did not answer.

He charged again.

The two collided.

Fists.

Elbows.

Shoulders.

Legs.

For the first dozens of exchanges.

Hao Nhien was clearly at a disadvantage.

Not because his strength was lower.

But because the other man’s experience was deeper.

He read breathing rhythms.

Watched the shoulders to predict punches.

Used half step retreats to lure Hao Nhien deeper.

Then struck at the moment his center of gravity shifted.

Hao Nhien took hit after hit.

Blood began to seep from the corner of his mouth.

His forearms burned with pain.

His left ribs also took a kick.

But his eyes only grew brighter.

The opponent was strong.

Not because of cultivation.

But because every movement looked as though it had been repeated through countless battles.

Hao Nhien did not rush to win.

He observed.

Got hit.

Remembered.

Adjusted.

Tried again.

Every time a strike landed.

He immediately understood where he had gone wrong.

Retreated too early.

Raised his shoulder too high.

Turned his hips too slowly.

Committed too much force.

Exposed his breathing rhythm.

After several dozen exchanges.

His body gradually became accustomed to the temporary power.

Movements that had initially felt stiff began to connect more smoothly.

Short retreat.

Close in.

Left elbow.

Right fist.

Horizontal sweep.

For the first time, the opponent was forced backward.

One step.

Then a second.

Hao Nhien did not let the opportunity pass.

He drove forward with repeated elbow strikes.

Not stronger.

But constantly changing angles.

Left.

Right.

Low.

High.

The man in silver gray tilted his shoulder.

Turned his hips.

Blocked with his forearms.

Then suddenly counterattacked.

A chain of punches exploded forward.

Sharp impacts cracked through the air.

Shoulder.

Chest.

Ribs.

Abdomen.

Hao Nhien could not dodge them all.

The first two struck his forearms.

Painful.

But he immediately swept a leg to break the rhythm.

His other foot stamped down.

His body surged forward.

A straight punch landed on the opponent’s chest.

Boom!

The man staggered backward.

Hao Nhien was also shaken by the rebound, pain flashing through his chest.

Neither stopped.

They rushed together again.

A hundred exchanges.

Then more.

Their movements gradually lost whatever beauty they had possessed at the beginning.

Clothes tore.

Blood began dripping onto the arena.

Toward the end.

Neither cared whether a movement looked good.

Only whether it worked.

Block.

Punch.

Sweep.

Lock.

Break balance.

Fall.

Stand.

Fight again.

When both were nearly exhausted, the arena suddenly lit up.

Hao Nhien immediately became alert.

A warm current rose from beneath the stone floor.

And wrapped around both of them.

Their wounds began to ease.

True qi rapidly recovered.

Tightened muscles loosened.

Hao Nhien paused.

The other man also stopped slightly.

Neither knew why.

But the force favored neither side.

Within only a few breaths.

Both had been pulled back close to peak condition.

Hao Nhien looked at his opponent.

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

“Looks like I’m starting to get used to it.”

The man did not answer.

His gaze only deepened.

Then he charged again.

Their fists collided head on.

Boom!

Their strength was still equal.

Hao Nhien was not stronger.

But his sense for using that power had changed.

At first, the strength granted by the arena had felt like a blade too heavy for his hand.

He could wield it.

But not smoothly.

Now.

Feet.

Hips.

Shoulders.

Hands.

Each stage of force began linking together more naturally.

He was not stronger.

But his movements were a little faster.

Not because he had more true qi.

But because he wasted less time and force.

As they continued fighting, Hao Nhien gradually noticed something else.

His opponent did not seem completely accustomed to his current state either.

His strength remained stable.

His technique remained extremely solid.

His experience still surpassed Hao Nhien’s.

But sometimes, at the instant he exerted force, there was a trace of unnatural restraint.

Very slight.

Like someone accustomed to using greater strength, now forced to hold himself back.

Hao Nhien did not know whether that guess was entirely correct.

But he tested it.

Their fists had just touched.

Hao Nhien suddenly broke the rhythm.

He did not retreat.

Did not dodge.

He simply stopped for the briefest instant.

The opponent’s judgment immediately missed by half a beat.

Hao Nhien stepped aside.

Half a step.

His body closed in.

A leg sweep shot out.

Not meant to overwhelm with strength.

Only to strike at the exact moment the opponent’s center of gravity shifted.

The man in silver gray immediately lowered his arm.

But he was half a beat too slow.

Only half a beat.

Enough.

Hao Nhien’s elbow had already arrived.

Boom!

His elbow slammed into the opponent’s arm.

The force was not superior.

But the angle was vicious.

The defensive frame immediately shifted out of place.

The man staggered.

Hao Nhien did not let him stabilize.

One punch.

One kick.

One elbow.

Continuous.

Not using force to crush him.

Using rhythm to cut apart rhythm.

Every time the opponent tried to rebuild his guard, the next strike arrived at the exact point of transition.

Every time he tried to counterattack, Hao Nhien changed the angle.

The opponent was forced backward.

One step.

Two.

Three.

The edge of the arena was already behind him.

The man immediately planted his feet.

Trying to force himself steady.

Hao Nhien stamped down on the stone.

Force traveled from foot to hip.

But he did not punch.

He turned.

His leg swept across the opponent’s supporting point.

It did not need to be heavy.

Only well timed.

The man in silver gray lost balance.

His eyes narrowed.

True qi immediately circulated.

But it was already too late.

Hao Nhien stepped forward another half step.

His shoulder bumped lightly into the man’s chest.

Breaking the last point of balance.

The opponent’s body passed beyond the edge of the arena.

At that exact moment.

An invisible force appeared.

Wrapped around him.

Then pulled him out of the chamber.

Silence.

Hao Nhien remained standing on the arena for several breaths.

Then dropped heavily into a sitting position.

He gasped for breath.

Sweat mixed with blood and ran down his face.

His arms hurt.

His chest hurt.

His legs still trembled.

But the corner of his mouth curved upward.

He had not won because he was stronger.

At least, not in any simple sense.

He had simply become accustomed to that temporary strength faster.

In an evenly matched battle.

Sometimes half a beat was enough.

At that moment.

Mist began gathering before him.

Hao Nhien immediately looked up.

Within the glowing haze.

Two figures appeared.

Him.

And the opponent from moments ago.

The battle began replaying.

Every punch.

Every step.

Every dodge.

Every strike that landed.

Then.

The images slowed.

Every rhythm.

Every angle.

Every transfer of force.

Hao Nhien immediately sat straighter.

Without blinking.

He saw one moment when he had retreated half a beat too early.

His shoulder opened immediately.

He saw a strike to the ribs where he committed too much force.

His fist returned too slowly.

Then his leg was broken off balance.

He saw the first time his chain of elbow strikes had worked.

His shoulder had unconsciously lowered at exactly the right moment.

Even near the end.

When his body had nearly been moving on instinct alone.

Some of his motions had actually become simpler and cleaner than when he was consciously calculating every detail.

Hao Nhien nearly forgot to blink.

This was the true opportunity.

Not merely being allowed to fight.

But being allowed to watch the entire battle again from another perspective.

For Hao Nhien, who was accustomed to observing and correcting each small mistake.

This was almost a treasure.

He watched in fascination.

Muttering unconsciously:

“No...”

“I shouldn’t retreat here.”

“Wait half a beat longer.”

“Relax the right shoulder more.”

“This sweep...”

“If I lower the hips a little more, the force will go deeper.”

After an unknown amount of time.

The mist finally dispersed.

The temporary power inside his body also began to withdraw.

True qi.

Strength.

Speed.

Everything gradually returned to his true sixth layer Qi Condensation state.

But what he had seen remained.

Hao Nhien stood.

And slowly went through several movements.

Very slowly.

One punch.

Withdraw.

Turn the hips.

Step.

Elbow.

Stop.

None of the movements had changed dramatically.

But there was less excess.

Cleaner.

More connected.

He clenched his fist.

His eyes brightened.

“Worth it.”

“Far too worth it.”

Behind the arena.

A new door slowly opened.

Hao Nhien walked through.

Another short staircase appeared ahead.

Three steps.

At the end of the third.

Another door almost identical to the last.

Hao Nhien looked at it for a moment.

The corner of his mouth curved upward.

“There’s more?”

He stepped up.

There was some pressure on these stone steps.

But nothing like the earlier body tempering section.

Just enough to keep his body from fully relaxing.

The door opened.

Another arena.

Another opponent.

Still silver gray clothing.

Still a steady aura.

Hao Nhien did not say much.

Neither did the other man.

They placed their hands on the stone pedestal one after another.

The pillars of light appeared.

Their strength was drawn close together.

The opponent looked at Hao Nhien.

The battle began.

The second opponent was completely different from the first.

He did not favor continuous exchanges of fists and kicks.

He was extremely skilled at joint locks.

Breaking balance.

Borrowing force.

If Hao Nhien extended his arm even half an inch too far.

His wrist was caught immediately.

His shoulder pulled.

His center of gravity broken.

Hao Nhien was thrown down onto the surface of the arena several times.

His left shoulder hurt so badly it nearly dislocated.

His ribs also took several heavy blows.

But what he had learned from the first battle was not wasted.

He began resisting force less directly.

When pulled.

Follow the force.

Turn the hips.

Withdraw the shoulder.

Cross step.

Find the angle of escape.

The two fought for a long time.

Both were covered in injuries.

Their breathing was heavy as though dragging stone.

When both were close to exhaustion.

The familiar warm current appeared once again.

The arena pulled them back into a state where they could continue fighting.

Hao Nhien still did not fully understand the rule.

But he was no longer surprised.

And this time.

He adapted faster.

Only one beat.

A tiny beat.

But enough.

The opponent locked his shoulder.

Hao Nhien did not pull backward.

He followed the force.

Turned his hips.

Freed his arm.

Closed in.

Foot stamped down.

Elbow drove into the opening that had just appeared.

The opponent retreated.

Hao Nhien immediately swept the supporting leg.

Balance broken.

Shoulder pushed.

The man’s body crossed the edge of the arena.

The invisible force appeared.

And pulled him away.

The glowing mist appeared again.

This time, Hao Nhien almost sat down immediately.

His eyes locked onto every image.

“Right...”

“I should follow the force here.”

“No.”

“Still too early.”

“Wait another beat.”

“If the shoulder gets locked, don’t pull backward.”

“Turn the hips first.”

He learned like a starving man.

Every mistake.

Every angle of force.

Every instant the opponent broke his balance.

Nothing was missed.

Only after the mist dispersed did Hao Nhien slowly stand.

His body was tired.

But his eyes were even brighter.

He looked at his hand.

A thought slowly surfaced in his mind.

Having a lower cultivation realm.

Perhaps it was not entirely a disadvantage.

At least inside an arena that pulled both sides toward a similar level of strength.

The ability to adapt quickly also had value.

Of course.

The condition was surviving long enough to adapt.

And possessing enough experience to recognize where one was going wrong.

Hao Nhien slowly breathed out.

Then stepped through the newly opened door.

And continued upward.