The group followed Emperor Ichikawa through a cedar grove, the air thick with incense and drifting motes of gold dust. Before long, the trees parted to reveal a broad hill rising like a sleeping beast. At its base rested a massive sphere of stone—smooth as glass, it appeared to me to be a giant multi-colored marble.
The boulder's surface shimmered faintly under the sunlight, almost reflective, as though countless hands had tried and failed to move it over centuries.
At the base of the hill, painted into the marble earth, was a bold white starting line. Above it stretched a series of markers etched into the slope in luminous gold: 10 yards, 20 yards, 30 yards, and so on, each glowing faintly with Emperor Ichikawa's personal seal.
And at the summit of the hill, carved into a plateau of gleaming jade, stood the end-zone—a vast ring painted in radiant scarlet letters that spelled TOUCH-DOWN.
It gleamed like a symbol of glory and mockery.
The prodigies whispered among themselves. Some laughed nervously. Others simply stared at the massive sphere of stone before them.
Ichikawa stood before it, his hands clasped behind his back.
"This," he said, "is the Boulder of the Sun. It weighs two hundred and fifty tons. Your task is simple—roll it uphill, and score yardage. The further it rolls, the higher your standing."
A murmur swept through the ranks of the gathered prodigies. Then a hand rose from among the gathered prodigies. "Yes, you," said Ichikawa, turning with calm poise. "What is your question?" A young man in ocean-blue robes stepped forward and bowed deeply. His voice was respectful but edged with unease. "Your Majesty, forgive my boldness, but… will we not be in danger? If the boulder rolls back, could it not crush us?"
Ichikawa's faint smile returned, though his eyes glimmered like sunlight on water.
"You need not fear that," he said. "My Emperor's Intent blankets this hill. The Boulder will not harm you, no matter how it falls. Only your pride may be injured."
A few nervous laughs rippled through the crowd. The Emperor's gaze silenced them instantly.
A ripple of disbelief passed through the crowd. He turned slightly, his expression unreadable. "Begin."
A broad-shouldered youth from the Whispering Wood Continent stepped up first. He gathered his lightning Qi until arcs flickered across his arms, then slammed both palms into the boulder's base.
The sound rang like a thunderclap.
The boulder didn't budge. Not even an inch.
The youth's muscles quivered before he staggered back, clutching his arms as the lightning rebounded violently through his own Chakras.
Next came a fire cultivator from the Burning Continent. Flames burst from his shoulders, and the earth hissed beneath his feet. He roared and shoved, his heels digging into the dirt. The boulder trembled—then rolled half an inch before thudding back into place. Murmurs rose through the crowd. "Half an inch—he moved it!" someone shouted. Ichikawa's attendant scribbled something down on a long golden scroll. "Half an inch. Recorded."
A tall cultivator from the Ivory Continent stepped forward first. His arms bulged with stone essence, veins glowing faintly gray. He roared and slammed both palms into the boulder. The sound that followed was like thunder on hollow wood. The boulder didn't move an inch, but a bit of dust did fall from the hilltop.
Next came a dual-axe prodigy from the Crescent Continent. He spun his axes once, planted them into the dirt, and channeled his Qi into his back muscles until they gleamed like molten bronze. He pushed with everything—Qi crackling, teeth grinding—yet the boulder merely shuddered, as if amused.
"Impossible!" someone gasped.
Then a confident voice rang out:
"Allow me."
Heads turned. A tall, golden-haired youth stepped from the ranks—his robe marked with the sigil of the Cloud Continent. His expression carried neither arrogance nor fear, only focus.
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"That's Ken Renzo of the Cloud Continent!"
"They say he split a cliff in two during his Ascension test!"
Renzo bowed briefly toward Emperor Ichikawa, then turned to face the boulder. A faint wind gathered around him, swirling grains of dust in gentle spirals. His hands pressed to the marble surface.
He closed his eyes, and the wind stopped moving—it hung there, suspended, like breath held between heartbeats.
Then—
Boom!
The air cracked.
The boulder shifted. Slowly at first, then with growing rhythm as Renzo's feet dug furrows into the hill's base. The ground trembled with each inch gained. The golden measuring lines flared as the boulder crossed them—five yards, seven, ten—
—and finally ground to a halt at the twelve-yard line.
The crowd erupted in disbelief.
"Twelve yards!" cried one of the royal attendants, his voice echoing across the slope. "Renzo of the Cloud Continent—twelve yards achieved!" Renzo straightened, breathing evenly. A faint smile crossed his lips as he turned to face the Emperor. Ichikawa inclined his head slightly. "Impressive. You did not fight the mountain—you danced with it."
The golden-haired youth bowed deeply and stepped back, his aura still shimmering faintly in the air. The remaining contestants glanced between him and the unyielding boulder, some inspired, others shaken. Emperor Ichikawa focused his intent and allowed the boulder to roll slowly back down the hill to the starting position.
I said nothing, but my eyes followed the trail the boulder had left, as my eyes slid to Renzo, his expression was unreadable, but a flicker of understanding lit behind his gaze. As Renzo stepped back, the crowd still buzzing with disbelief, another voice rang out—low, steady, and edged with quiet pride.
"Not bad," they said. "But I'll show you what endurance looks like."
The speaker was a broad-shouldered man with bronze skin and silver tattoos spiraling up his arms. This was Calvin from the Bedrock Continent, famed for unbreakable bodies and hearts.
He approached the boulder without flourish. His bare feet pressed into the soil, and with a slow exhale he crouched, palms flat against the stone. The air changed—dense, hushed, as if the mountain itself was listening.
A deep vibration thrummed through the ground. Cracks spidered outward from his feet as his Qi sank into the boulder. His muscles didn't bulge; they simply hardened. Then he pushed.
No shout. No spectacle. Just a steady, inexorable pressure. Inch by inch, the Boulder of the Sun began to move. Five yards. Ten. Fifteen. The prodigies gasped as gold light flared along the markings. "Impossible—he's still going!" someone cried.
At twenty yards his arms began to tremble, stone cracking beneath his feet. He grit his teeth, eyes blazing with molten resolve. With a final, grounded heave, the boulder rolled forward once more—
—and came to rest at the twenty-two-yard line. Silence blanketed the grove. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. Emperor Ichikawa's eyes opened a fraction wider, the faintest glimmer of approval touching his gaze. "Name?" he asked.
"Calvin of the Bedrock Continent," he replied, still kneeling, sweat streaming down his arms and face. Ichikawa inclined his head. "Twenty-two yards," he said softly. "And not an inch of wasted strength. The boulder of the sun remembers your strength."
He bowed once and stepped back, his breathing calm, his aura sinking quietly back into his core. The crowd whispered in awe. Renzo's smile faded just slightly.
I couldn't help but notice the shift in the air—the first tremor of rivalry among the prodigies.
The air filled with the scent of dust, sweat, and frustration.
By the thirtieth attempt, ten more cultivators had managed to move the boulder to the ten- and fifteen-yard lines. While others could only manage to rock the boulder enough to make it roll a single yard, this still counted however, and it brought the total number of contestants who would enter the next round to fifteen. The field was strewn with panting prodigies, hands bruised, clothes torn, some coughing up blood from backlash. The boulder gleamed serenely under the sun—untouched, unmoved, eternal.
Just as whispers about Renzo and Calvins feats echoed through the grove, a tall, regal figure stepped forward, clad in mist armor, and his bearing was that of royalty and unrivaled training.
"Prince Edward of the Mist-Shrouded Continent," someone murmured.
The prince approached the Boulder of the Sun with calm authority. He placed his hands on the smooth marble, and immediately the air around him thickened with condensation, as if the very mist of his home continent breathed out onto the hill.
With a controlled exhale, he pushed. The boulder shivered at first, then gained momentum, rolling past the golden markers—10 yards, 20, 30…
The crowd's eyes widened as Prince Edward surged past the 40 yard line, then 50, leaving a deep grove in the hill.
Then, with a final, commanding effort, the boulder ground to a stop at the 55-yard line. A stunned silence fell across the grove, broken only by the distant rush of wind through the cedars. Even Ichikawa's attendants paused their scribes mid-stroke.
The prince stepped back, chest rising and falling, but his expression remained composed, almost serene. "Fifty-five yards," a royal attendant confirmed, bowing deeply.
The prodigies around him exchanged shocked glances. Few had imagined anyone could push the Boulder of the Sun this far. Even Calvin, who had reached twelve yards with apparent ease, now looked like a distant figure in comparison.
The air crackled with tension as all eyes turned toward the next contender-Ash. The murmurs of awe and tension rippled through the crowd as I stepped forward.
I paused at the base of the hill, palms hovering over the Boulder of the Sun. Around him, the Royal audience and the remaining cultivators went silent, as if even the wind had held its breath. I had considered using a complex origami array, one that would use spirit energy to lighten the load. But I decided the boulder was more than a test. It was a chance for me to measure the limits of Eon Qi and my Divine-grade Spirit Body. My mind was clear. I pressed my palms against the smooth marble. And to my shock, it felt incredible light, the boulder yielded as if recognizing my Divine Grade spirit body, responding to my Eon Qi with a subtle harmony.
With a steady exhale, I pushed. The boulder rolled—first to the 5-yard line, drawing murmurs from the audience. Then to the 10-yard line—a few of the other prodigies stepped back, unsure whether to admire or despair. The 15-yard line came up to me quickly as I worked—the crowd was on its feet, whispers turning to gasps.
By the time I reached the 25-yard line—the hill's slope steepened somewhat, yet the boulder continued to obey each mighty shove, moving as if guided by invisible hands. The audience erupted, voices cracking with excitement and disbelief. The air itself seemed to thrum with power as the boulder crept higher.
At the 35-yard line a frenzy overtook the grove. The spectators shouted, cheered, and some even dropped to their knees. The remaining prodigies gaped in awe and envy. A few muttered, "Impossible… no cultivator should move it that easily!"
My King level Intent pulsed steadily, Eon Qi flowing perfectly through my Divine grade spirit body. At the 45 yard-line The hill's gradient increased slightly, So I made a snap decision. I crouched slightly, centered myself, and with a roar, I lifted the Boulder of the Sun over my head. The weight was immense, yet my Divine-grade Spirit Body powered by Eon Qi absorbed it. For a heartbeat, silence hung in the grove—time itself seemed to pause.
Then the world erupted. The assembled prodigies leapt to their feet, some cheering, some gasping in shock. The Royal audience waved, clapped, and shouted in unison. Dust spiraled into the air, carrying the golden sunlight with it, and even the distant mountains seemed to echo the roar.
At the 50 Yard-line the crowd's roar became a single, unified tide of astonishment and elation. Emperor Ichikawa shot to his feet, eyes wide in a rare look of astoundment. Others screamed their amazement. Some covered their mouths in disbelief. A few of the strongest prodigies of the crowd clenched their fists, eyes narrowing, a mixture of jealousy and inspiration burning within them.
"Impossible!" a voice shouted. "No cultivator should be able to do that!"
I began to carry it upward, step by grueling step, toward the Touch-Down line. For a heartbeat, silence hung in the grove—time itself seemed to pause.
Each heartbeat resonated with divine power. Every prodigy, every elder, every attendant stood frozen in disbelief. The crowd's roar rolled like thunder as I crossed the 85 Yard-line and neared the summit. The Touch-Down line gleamed ahead, radiant under the noon sun.
My strides were steady, the Boulder of the Sun resting effortlessly on my shoulders as if it weighed little more than a cloud. But on the Royal Pavilion, Emperor Ichikawa's golden eyes narrowed. A faint smile touched his lips—sharp, knowing.
"This is Too easy for him. Lets see just how much he's holding back." With a calm motion, he raised two fingers to his right temple. The air shimmered. A pulse of invisible Emperor's Intent rippled outward like a silent wave, washing over the hill and the boulder in Ash's hands. The Boulder of the Sun shuddered slightly. Its marble glow deepened from gold to amber, then to a burning crimson. The ground itself groaned in protest.
In that instant, its weight doubled.
Two hundred and fifty tons became five hundred.
The crowd gasped as Ash staggered mid-step at the 95 Yard-line, knees bending slightly under the sudden surge of weight. This part of the hill was all stone and the earth beneath his feet cracked like spiderwebs.
A single grunt escaped him—low, controlled, almost amused. Then his breathing changed. His eyes narrowed, and the rhythm of his pulse slowed until each heartbeat echoed like the strike of a war drum. My arms trembled slightly, the strain of the Boulder of the Sun radiating through my entire being, I circulated eternal breath, opening my meridians, allowing more Qi from the spiritual planes to flow into my chakra paths, condensing into Eon Qi, empowering my divine grade spirit body. The strain in my arms vanished instantly as I circulated the eternal breath.
The boulder steadied in my hands. Dust rose in a cyclone around me, spinning up the slope like a living storm. My skin gleamed with light, every movement resonating with the rhythm of the world's core.
Step by step, I pressed forward again—each motion defying the weight of mountains. The onlookers were struck silent, their hearts pounding in their chests. Renzo's confident composure faltered. Prince Edward's calm mask cracked, his fingers tightening on his robe. Calvin of the Bedrock Continent lowered his head in wordless respect. Ichikawa's golden aura flickered faintly in response, his eyes alive with intrigue and something deeper recognition. I took one last eternal breath, Eon Qi surging like an ocean through my divine grade spirit body, my foot came down on the Touch-Down line, and I slammed the Boulder of the Sun down with an impact that shook the entire hill.
A shockwave of golden light erupted outward, sweeping through the grove like a solar wind. The banners above the royal pavilion tore free, fluttering wildly into the sky.
For a moment, the Boulder of the Sun burned as bright as the real one in the heavens.
Then silence fell.
Emperor Ichikawa lowered his hand slowly, eyes half-lidded in measured satisfaction.
"Five hundred tons," he murmured, barely audible over the ringing silence. "And still he stands."
The crowd erupted in awe. Some screamed. Some fell to their knees. Others wept, overwhelmed by the display of godlike power.
I straightened, exhaling slowly. The golden light faded from my aura, but not the awe that filled the world around me.
The Emperor smiled faintly, his words carrying across the trembling air, "So this is the power that defied a Sovereign."
The crowd erupted anew, this time into a chorus of adoration, astonishment, and awe. Trumpets blared from the Royal Pavilion. Servants and attendants waved banners, and the measuring yard-lines glowed as if commemorating the historic moment.