The sun rose over Verdant Moon Sect, but the cold winds that swept the arena were anything but warm. Over fifty outer disciples stood on the stone tiers that overlooked the dueling platform, each chosen finalist waiting for their name to be called, their hearts beating with tension, ambition, and fear.
Among them stood **Shadow**.
Clad in simple dark robes, sword strapped across his back, his aura still-like a lake before a storm. His breathing was deep and steady. But inside, his thunder pulsed, waiting.
A burst of spiritual light flashed on the arena's display stone.
> "First Match: Shadow versus Wen Zhi!"
The crowd broke into murmurs.
**Wen Zhi** was ranked eleventh among the outer sect. Towering, muscular, and famous for cultivating a body-strengthening art known as **Iron Skin Mountain Form**. He had never been defeated in a direct confrontation. His body could stop blades. His legs could crush stone.
He leapt onto the stage with a grin.
"You're the cripple everyone talks about? Let me show them what happens when a bug dances in thunder."
Shadow stepped onto the platform with slow, measured steps.
He unsheathed his blade with a soft ring.
His eyes never left Wen Zhi.
Up in the observation pavilion, inner sect disciples gathered.
**Ren Qiu**, cousin of the Ren Family and proud member of the inner sect, chuckled.
"This will be short. That boy's speed won't matter against Wen Zhi. His skin is like iron."
**Xue Lian**, icy and refined, didn't bother to reply. Her eyes were locked on Shadow.
A gong echoed.
**The battle began.**
Wen Zhi roared, surging forward like a bear. His fists swung with the force of hammers, wind shrieking around them.
Shadow didn't dodge.
Until he did.
**Thunder Step.**
A sudden flash. His figure blurred. The crowd saw only afterimages as he vanished, reappearing behind Wen Zhi in less than a breath.
Wen Zhi's momentum carried him forward, confused.
Shadow whispered.
> "Pulse One."
His sword flickered.
A clean line appeared on Wen Zhi's back. Blood erupted.
The big man snarled and spun, lashing out with a backhand blow. Shadow ducked under it, already circling.
**Thunder Step: Double Beat.**
Another flicker of motion. Another afterimage.
The crowd was stunned. Many couldn't follow.
Wen Zhi growled. "COME OUT AND FIGHT!"
He stomped hard, sending a shockwave through the stage. Shadow leapt, landing a dozen paces back, his face unreadable.
> *His body technique is strong,* Shadow thought. *But he's slow to recover. I need three steps. Just three. One to bait. One to break. One to finish.*
He charged head-on.
Wen Zhi grinned. "Finally!"
He met Shadow with a full-body rush, his legs pulsing with Qi.
Just as their bodies were about to collide, Shadow stepped sideways-**Thunder Step: Breakpoint**.
He slid across the stone with unnatural speed.
Wen Zhi's punch shattered empty air.
Shadow twisted mid-motion.
> "Pulse Two."
His blade struck Wen Zhi's thigh, cutting deep.
Wen Zhi roared, stumbled, dropped to one knee.
He raised both fists.
"IRON MOUNTAIN HAMMER!"
He slammed them into the ground. The entire platform trembled.
Stone cracked. Dust rose.
Shadow leapt into the air.
He flipped once, drew his blade backward, and pointed downward.
**Flash Blade Art: Kill Line.**
He plunged straight down like a falling star.
His sword pierced Wen Zhi's shoulder.
Wen Zhi collapsed, eyes rolling back.
Blood pooled.
The judge raised a hand. "STOP!"
He examined the unconscious disciple.
Then raised his voice.
"Winner: SHADOW!"
Thunderous applause erupted.
Some outer sect disciples cheered. Others stared, stunned. Many now saw Shadow not as a cripple-but as something else.
Shadow stood still, sword dripping, body calm. Inside, however-
His dantian boiled.
The thunder surged. The energy he'd suppressed during the fight was now free.
His eyes closed.
He felt his meridians expand. His body trembled slightly. The chaotic current inside his dantian stabilized.
A soundless ripple passed through him.
> *Fourth Layer...* he thought.
He opened his eyes.
No one noticed. No light. No rumble. His cultivation style remained silent, secret.
Only he knew.
He had stepped into the next level.
From above, Ren Qiu scowled. "That technique... it's not normal."
Xue Lian folded her arms. "His footwork is strange. As if... he sees before he moves."
In the high seat, one of the observing elders-an old man with closed eyes-opened them slightly.
He watched Shadow leave the platform.
And smiled.
> "Interesting."
Shadow descended the stairs. He didn't raise his head to the cheers. He walked silently, blade clean once again.
Another match would come.
But for now, he had drawn his sword.
And the storm remembered his name.
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