As Dustin stepped down from the competition stage, the roars of the crowd faded into a distant hum. He stood still for a moment, letting the rush of combat ebb from his veins. Around him, gazes of awe, envy, admiration—and even fear—fell like arrows from all directions. His name had spread like wildfire.
There was no doubt now—after today's performance, he would no longer be just another student in the Martial Hall. He was a rising star. The senior officials would be watching. The gates to the advanced elite class were no longer a distant dream. With it would come privileged access to martial resources that others could only dream of.
Suddenly, students who had ignored him just days before now swarmed with flattery, eager to bask in his light.
"Dustin! That was incredible! My sixteenth birthday's in two days—come by, yeah?" someone called out, smiling nervously.
And then—her.
Emery Liu walked over, her smile as radiant as spring sunlight, her bright eyes shimmering like ripples on a clear lake.
"I didn't think you'd improve this much so quickly." Her voice was soft, yet carried pride. "Would you come to my birthday banquet?"
Dustin's eyes narrowed slightly. Still playing that game, Emery?
"I need to focus on training," he replied coldly. "I won't have the time. Sorry."
A slight pause. Emery's smile faltered, a flicker of disbelief flashing across her flawless face. She wasn't used to rejection. Especially not from him.
She knew Dustin had once harbored feelings for her. And now that he had climbed high, she thought her charm could reel him back in. She was wrong.
Dustin watched her retreat with indifference. He had learned his lesson.
Only strength is eternal in this world. With enough power, what woman couldn't be his?
But not everyone appreciated his rejection.
"You really don't know what's good for you." A snide voice rang out. "Emery invited you herself—that's a favor people can only dream of, and you throw it away?"
Jeth stepped forward, his tone aggressive.
Dustin turned slowly, eyes cold. "You're just a parasite clinging to your family's prestige. You should learn when to shut your mouth."
"What did you just say?!" Jeth's face turned crimson.
"I said you're pathetic." Dustin didn't bother lowering his voice. "You've swallowed more pills than a merchant's mule, burned mountains of silver on martial arts manuals, and yet you're still just at the seventh level of Body Refinement. Seventeen years old and afraid to step onto the arena? You tell me—what does that make you?"
Murmurs echoed around them. The truth was often bitter.
Back in the Martial Library, Jeth had acted high and mighty, even threatening Dustin to stay away from Emery. But now? Dustin could knock him out with a single hand.
"You bastard! I'll kill you!" Jeth howled, veins bulging on his forehead.
"Try it." Dustin's gaze was ice. "Let's see if you can even force me to draw my sword."
"You—just you wait! Ninth-level body refining? That won't protect you for long. Someone will crush you!" Jeth spat, trembling with rage.
Dustin smiled coldly. "I'll be waiting."
Jeth stormed away, grinding his teeth, and wove through the crowd until he found a young man in white robes, a long blade sheathed at his side.
"Cousin! That bastard humiliated me in front of everyone! You have to avenge me!" Jeth nearly wailed.
The young man looked up. Sharp-eyed and calm, with a blade's edge hidden in his presence. Shane. Eighteen years old, ranked fourth among the Martial Hall's elite.
Shane raised an eyebrow. He didn't think much of Jeth—spoiled and mediocre. But he owed the Xu family, and Jeth was their eldest son.
"You said his name is Dustin?" Shane asked casually, his fingers tapping the hilt of his blade.
"Yes! That arrogant bastard needs to be crippled!" Jeth seethed. "When I become the family head, I'll reward you handsomely."
Shane smirked, unimpressed. As if I'd need your little scraps.
Still, if he wanted to reach the Energy Gathering realm, the Xu family's resources were... useful.
"I'll handle him," Shane replied with a lazy smile. "If fate brings us together."
.....
The competition progressed. Each match was fiercer than the last. Only the strongest advanced—most were ninth-level body refinement elites. Dustin continued to dominate, victory after victory, his calm demeanor as chilling as ever.
From the sidelines, Shane observed with narrowed eyes.
His movement technique is superb. Boxing too. But swordsmanship...? I heard he picked up the Moral Strength Sword Technique only two months ago. That one's notoriously hard to learn. He can't have progressed much.
Bang!
Another opponent flew off the stage—Dustin advanced once more.
Whispers ran through the crowd.
"He's in the top five for sure now... but can he beat Shane?"
"No way. Dragon Tiger Fist and Inch Step are only second-rank martial arts. Shane's Seven-Star Sword Technique is third-rank—and it's at the Mastery realm!"
Others rose in the rankings too. The true elites. Troy, ranked first, hadn't even drawn his blade yet. Some opponents surrendered on sight.
There were rumors that Troy was personally mentored by the Martial Hall Master—and might become an Energy Gathering martial artist before nineteen.
Once one reached Energy Gathering before eighteen, they qualified to attempt entry into the Salmoris Sect—the most powerful martial force in Xandoria County.
To be accepted into Salmoris meant entering a new world. Fourth-rank martial arts were available to outer disciples. Inner disciples wielded sixth-rank techniques. And core disciples? They trained in the mythical seventh-rank martial arts—stuff of legend.
To Dustin, Salmoris was a distant peak. But he had time. He was only fourteen—and already at the peak of Body Refinement.
Clack!
A figure stepped onto the arena.
Dustin turned his head.
It was Shane.
"The fourth-ranked genius, huh?" Dustin muttered under his breath, expression unreadable.
"Dustin," Shane called, arrogance curling in his voice. "You've come far, but this is your limit. That boxing of yours is impressive—but under my Seven-Star Sword Technique? It's meaningless."
He drew his blade slowly, the glint of cold steel catching the sun.
"I hear you've been practicing swordsmanship. Moral Strength Sword Technique, isn't it? Go ahead—draw your sword. Or are you afraid?"
Dustin's lips curled into a half-smile. "Trying to bait me?"
"Only giving you a fighting chance," Shane smirked.
Dustin's eyes gleamed with amusement. "If you want me to use my sword... earn it."
Shane's smile froze.
"You arrogant—then don't even dream of drawing it!"
With a sharp step, Shane struck like lightning.
"Drawing Blade Technique!"
A silver arc tore through the air, fast and brutal, carrying the force of inner energy.
The crowd gasped.
Dustin shifted half a step sideways.
Whoosh!
The blade missed by a hair.
Silence.
"Did he just... dodge that?" someone whispered.
"Amazing... his footwork is terrifying."
Shane didn't stop. His sword danced again, the Seven-Star Sword Technique activating in full bloom. Star-like slashes struck out in quick succession, the air trembling under the pressure.
Dustin didn't counter. He floated through the barrage like mist—intangible, untouchable.
High above, an elder watched with narrowed eyes. "Shane's technique is perfected. But this boy... he's something else."
"Seven Stars Break the Water!"
Shane roared, unleashing his strongest strike—seven sword-lights converging into one, aiming for Dustin's heart.
If this landed, it would maim—if not kill.
The audience held their breath.
Dustin didn't flinch.
He waited... then moved. A slip of the foot. A subtle twist.
Whoosh!
The blade carved the air—but missed.
"What?!"
Shane's heart skipped a beat—he had missed at full power.
Then—
"Soaring Dragon Fist."
A shadow streaked forward. A fist struck like thunder.
Bang!
Shane flew back, crashing hard near the stage's edge, rolling twice before he managed to stop.
Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.
"Unbelievable…"
"He's... invincible…"
The crowd was stunned. Even the top students looked uneasy.
Dustin stood tall, unmoved, eyes like frozen stars.
"Still think I need my sword?" he asked calmly.