The Grand Tournament was a mere two months away. The clan's atmosphere grew thick with competitive tension. Disciples trained with a newfound desperation, their eyes flicking nervously toward Li Jin, the undisputed peak, and now, with a new, wary curiosity, toward Li Wei.
But Li Wei was unconcerned with their petty rivalries. His goal was not to win their tournament. His goal was to use it as an anvil upon which to hammer his newfound power into a usable weapon. His cultivation, now solidly at the 6th Level, was a vast reservoir of power, but he lacked a channel for it—a way to express the might of the Primordial Sovereign in combat.
He found his answer not in the clan's scripture pavilion, but in the depths of his own soul.
Meditating in his hidden cave, he delved into the inherited memories of the Ancient God. It was a vast, chaotic tapestry of a dead epoch. He saw glimpses of star-forges and heard the echoes of wars that shattered continents. And within that chaos, he found a pattern—a series of profound, brutal movements that embodied pure, unadulterated force.
It was not a technique that relied on elemental affinity or delicate control. It was a principle. A declaration that the fist was the extension of the will, and the will was absolute.
"Heaven-Shattering Fist"
The memory imprint did not come with tedious instructions. It conveyed the intent. The fist was not a tool to strike an enemy; it was a tool to reject reality's limitations. To strike was to declare that what stood before you was an illusion that needed to be corrected.
He rose and began to practice. The first movement was simple—a straight punch. But as he executed it, he poured his Chaos Qi into the fist art's circulation path. The air in front of his fist didn't just part; it shattered. A visible ripple, like fractured glass, shot forward and blasted a fist-sized hole clean through a solid granite boulder ten feet away. There was no explosion, just utter, silent annihilation of everything in its path.
Li Wei stared, his heart thundering. The power was immense, but the drain was equally so. A single punch had consumed a tenth of his Chaos Qi.
He spent the next week in seclusion, practicing. He learned that the "Heaven-Shattering Fist" had layers of power he could control. He could throw a punch that simply carried overwhelming physical force, or he could invest it with the shattering intent that erased matter.
During this time, the pressure against the Heavenly Seals within him grew ever more intense. The seals felt like spheres of obsidian, and the power behind them was a raging, golden light, straining to break free. He knew it was close. The dam would not hold much longer.
His chance to test his new skill came unexpectedly. He was returning from the forest when he found Li Jun and two of his lackeys blocking the path back to the clan compound. They had been waiting.
"Leaving so early, Fourth Level?" Li Jun sneered, his confidence bolstered by his companions. "We've been wondering where you go all day. Stealing clan resources, perhaps? Found a secret treasure vein?"
Li Wei stopped, his expression calm. "Move, Li Jun."
"Or what? You'll use that pressure trick again?" Li Jun grinned, a Foundation-level defensive talisman glowing faintly in his hand. "I came prepared this time. Now, we're going to search you and find out what you've been hiding."
The two lackeys, both at the 5th Level of Qi Gathering, stepped forward.
Li Wei sighed. He had hoped to avoid this, but the opportunity was too perfect. He needed a live test.
As the first lackey lunged, sword drawn, Li Wei didn't retreat. He took a single step forward, his right fist lashing out in a simple, direct punch. He held back the shattering intent, using only the fist art's basic amplification.
The result was still devastating.
His fist met the spirit sword. Instead of a clang of metal, there was a deafening CRACK as the low-grade weapon shattered into a dozen pieces. The force continued, striking the lackey in the chest. The boy's ribs audibly fractured, and he was thrown backward through the air, slamming into a tree and slumping to the ground, unconscious.
The second lackey froze, his face a mask of terror.
Li Jun's smirk had vanished, replaced by pale-faced shock. "Y-You... you broke a spirit sword! With your fist!"
Li Wei turned his gaze to Li Jun. He didn't say a word. He simply raised his fist, and this time, he let a wisp of the true shattering intent gather around it. The space around his knuckles seemed to warp and crackle, emitting a low, terrifying hum.
That was enough. Li Jun stumbled backward, the talisman falling from his nerveless fingers, and fled without a second glance at his fallen friend.
Li Wei looked at his fist, then at the unconscious disciple. The "Heaven-Shattering Fist" was everything he had hoped for. It was a fitting art for a Sovereign. But there was still much to improve upon, he thought to himself.
He continued on his path to the Whispering Fangs to hunt, the silent warning clear. The tournament was no longer a test for him. It was a demonstration. And he was ready to show the entire Li Clan what it truly meant to be named "Wei."