The announcer's voice rolled across the arena like thunder.
"Edran Vaelthorne versus Jarek of the Steel Fang Sect!"
The noise from the crowd swelled — some cheers, some jeers, but all eager. Edran rose from his seat, the sunlight catching on the faint silver thread embroidered into his dark tunic. Each step toward the sand was measured, unhurried.
---
[Cultivation Panel]
Name: Edran Vaelthorne
Age: 16
Realm: Qi Condensation – Mid Stage
Physique: Dormant Dragon Vein
Cultivation Technique: Azure Dragon Breathing Art – Low Earth Grade
Skills:
Azure Step – Body movement technique that condenses qi into the legs for explosive acceleration.
Draconic Flow Strike – A palm strike that channels qi in a spiraling flow, mimicking the coiling force of a dragon.
Flowing Scale Guard – Defensive technique that wraps the body in layered qi scales to disperse impact.
Dragon's Fang Pierce – Focused thrust using compressed qi to puncture defenses.
---
Across from him, Jarek cracked his neck, the sunlight glinting off the small iron studs embedded in his fists.
Jarek – Qi Condensation, Peak Stage
Famous for his Iron Fang Fists, a brutal close-combat art that reinforced his knuckles with hardened qi, turning each punch into a bone-crushing blow.
The referee's hand sliced through the air. "Begin!"
---
Jarek was a blur, closing the distance in a heartbeat. His fist, wrapped in thick, dark qi, shot toward Edran's temple.
Edran shifted — Azure Step — the sand beneath his feet scattering as he vanished from the spot, reappearing three paces to the left. The crowd gasped.
Jarek spun, growling, and charged again, fists hammering in a relentless flurry. Edran raised his forearm — Flowing Scale Guard — shimmering scales of condensed qi rippling into existence. The first punch struck with a metallic clang, forcing Edran back a step but leaving no injury.
"You think you can block forever?!" Jarek snarled.
Edran didn't reply. His eyes were cold, calculating.
Another blow came. This time, Edran stepped into it, twisting his palm forward — Draconic Flow Strike. Qi spiraled from his core into his arm, and when his palm met Jarek's chest, the impact was like being hit by a coiled steel spring suddenly unleashed.
Jarek stumbled back, coughing once, his footing broken.
Edran advanced now, each step in rhythm with his breathing technique. The air around him seemed to hum faintly, his qi flowing in smooth, serpentine patterns.
Jarek roared, qi flaring wildly as he went for his signature — Iron Fang Barrage. Dozens of blows rained in, the air cracking with each strike.
Edran waited for the narrowest gap. His body blurred — Azure Step — his right hand forming the shape of a spear.
Dragon's Fang Pierce.
A silver streak shot forward, qi compressed to a lethal point. It struck Jarek's shoulder cleanly, punching through his outer qi shield and sending him sprawling across the sand. His arm went limp, useless.
The arena erupted.
Jarek lay panting, eyes wide in disbelief, before the referee's hand lifted Edran's.
"Winner — Edran Vaelthorne!"
---
From the VIP stand, the Vaelthorne patriarch watched in silence, but the faintest trace of a smile ghosted his lips. The mother's eyes softened briefly before resuming their usual poise. Serenya nodded once in approval.
But in the highest shadowed balcony, a cloaked figure leaned forward, watching Edran with interest that was far from friendly.
The Dragon Vein stirs, they thought. This… complicates things.