Sovereign of Stolen Fate

The tournament continued well into the afternoon, the excitement in the air building as more fighters stepped onto the platform. Jin Ye quietly watched each match, carefully observing the combatants. He knew understanding his potential opponents was crucial to his success.

As a former cultivator that stood near the top, he learned to not underestimate any potential enemy no matter how weak.

Villagers leaned forward eagerly, their excitement evident as contestants displayed their skill and strength. Some matches ended in mere moments leading some to wonder how they had the courage to show up, while other matches had them watching with their hands clenched.

A young fighter at the Second Stage of Qi Refinement launched into a basic Ironwood Fist, his strikes predictable. His opponent, more experienced, sidestepped effortlessly, countering with Flowing Reed Palm, redirecting the attack and sending the younger fighter stumbling. The match ended with a swift sweep kick, knocking him off balance and securing victory.

Another match saw a contestant at the Third Stage of Qi Refinement wielding Stone-Breaking Palm, his Qi condensing into a dull orange glow around his fists. He struck the ground, causing the wooden platform to crack slightly, but his opponent responded with Azure Wave Steps, a footwork technique that allowed him to glide effortlessly past each attack before delivering a decisive elbow strike to the ribs.

Soon enough, excitement rippled through the audience as Luo Cheng, a cultivator rarely seen in public, confidently stepped onto the stage. Rumors quickly spread among villagers:

"I heard Luo Cheng has already reached the fourth stage," a middle-aged woman whispered to her neighbor, eyes wide with surprise. "When did he get so strong?"

Her friend shook his head thoughtfully, equally intrigued. "He's been training quietly for months. Nobody knew he had advanced so quickly."

Across the platform, Luo Cheng faced his opponent, a youth named Huang Yi, visibly nervous but determined at the third stage of Qi Refinement. Elder Ming raised his hand and declared the start of the match.

Luo Cheng wasted no time. His movements were precise and ruthless, each strike forceful and calculated. Huang Yi tried his best, bravely defending against Luo Cheng's attacks, but it quickly became clear he was outmatched.

"Surrender!" Lou Cheng shouted, seeing Huang Yi's shaky stance and exhausted expression.

Inside Luo Cheng smirked cruelly, not giving him the chance and ignoring the obvious surrender. He struck again viciously, knocking Huang Yi forcefully onto the ground. Huang Yi started spitting up blood. Gasps of shock echoed through the crowd, villagers recoiling at the exchange.

Elder Ming swiftly stepped forward, his powerful Qi radiating outward as he glared at Luo Cheng. "Lou Cheng wins!"

Luo Cheng shrugged carelessly, showing no remorse. "Forgive me, Elder Ming. I simply got carried away. I even tried to tell him to surrender, but alas he was to weak."

Jin Ye watched silently from the side, narrowing his eyes slightly. He noted Luo Cheng as someone who might be trouble. He felt a flicker of anticipation, knowing if he could defeat him he could steal some of his talent. This body was just to worthless.

"Disgraceful," whispered an older man nearby, shaking his head in disgust. "Is this tournament truly about showcasing skill or just cruelty?"

"Mayor Wei Tian allows it because he wants to frighten anyone who opposes his son," another villager muttered bitterly, resentment coloring his words.

As the matches progressed, another unexpected cultivator at the fourth stage emerged—Zhang Wei, known for his quiet nature and strong work ethic. His precise technique impressed the villagers, earning their admiration and respect.

"Look at Zhang Wei," a young woman marveled, genuinely impressed. "I never knew he was so talented!"

"He trains diligently," a villager replied approvingly. "Hard work pays off. Unlike that cruel Luo Cheng, Zhang Wei fights honorably."

From his position, Jin Ye studied Zhang Wei carefully, noting his composed demeanor and disciplined approach. He respected cultivators like Zhang Wei, who relied on perseverance rather than arrogance.

Finally, it was Jin Ye's turn again. His opponent, Sun Tao, stepped onto the stage with a look of uncertainty. Sun Tao was at the third stage of Qi Refinement and had seen Jin Ye's previous victories. He understood the difference in their strengths.

"Begin!" Elder Ming commanded firmly.

Sun Tao moved first, his Qi pulsing steadily as he took a cautious approach. His hands glowed faintly as he executed Ironwood Fist, a technique designed to reinforce his strikes, making each punch feel like a hammer blow. His footwork was measured, precise—he couldn't afford to be reckless like the others before him.

Jin Ye, however, remained unshaken.

With a small shift of his weight, he glided back, allowing Sun Tao's first punch to pass harmlessly by. The force of the strike rippled through the air, but Jin Ye's movement was smooth—Moonlit Phantom Steps carried him just far enough to evade.

Sun Tao frowned, immediately adjusting. He twisted his body, launching a rapid follow-up using Rock Splitting Palm, his Qi condensing at the last second to deliver a burst of concussive force. The ground beneath his feet splintered slightly from the impact, showing the strength behind his technique.

Yet, he struck nothing but air.

Jin Ye had already pivoted, shifting to his opponent's blind spot with effortless grace. His eyes gleamed with sharp calculation, his stance relaxed yet coiled like a serpent waiting to strike.

"Good. He's not reckless. But let's see how he handles pressure."

Jin Ye deliberately tested the his techniques he had been practicing.

His Qi pulsed subtly as he executed Rising Fang Strike, his fingers sharpening like a hidden blade, slicing through Sun Tao's incoming strike with pinpoint precision. The moment their arms clashed, Sun Tao's muscles seized briefly, the impact disrupting the flow of his Qi for a fleeting moment.

Jin Ye moved instantly.

Shifting his stance, he delivered a swift counter using Scorching Palm. His hand flashed forward, landing cleanly against Sun Tao's forearm, the Qi-infused strike leaving behind a searing burn that pulsed through the meridians beneath the skin.

Sun Tao's eyes widened in shock. The pain wasn't overwhelming. But the heat from the impact lingered, making his Qi sluggish.

"His control is terrifying," Sun Tao realized. "He's not just stronger—he's completely dictating the pace of this fight."

Forced onto the defensive, Sun Tao attempted to regain his rhythm, shifting into Earthen Root Stance to stabilize himself. His Qi sank lower, grounding his movements, making him harder to knock back.

But Jin Ye wasn't interested in this fight anymore.

With perfect timing, Jin Ye pressed forward, flowing like water—his footwork disrupting the stance before it could fully settle. He weaved around Sun Tao's defenses, closing the distance with effortless ease before delivering a decisive palm strike to the chest.

The impact wasn't loud or flashy, but it hit a pressure point that disrupted the Qi flow there momentarily. Sun Tao staggered, thrown off balance.

Realizing he could no longer mount an effective counterattack, he quickly raised his hands signaling his surrender.

"I surrender," Sun Tao said, his voice tinged with respect rather than bitterness. "You're stronger than I thought, Jin Ye."

Jin Ye nodded calmly, but his attention was elsewhere.

As he stepped down from the stage, that mysterious warmth spread through him again.

It was no longer just a vague sensation—it was clearer now, stronger, more refined.

His Qi flow subtly improved, his meridians felt more reinforced, and the control over his techniques sharpened ever so slightly. It was no mere illusion—his victories were directly enhancing his cultivation.

His earlier suspicions had been confirmed.

"So it's true. Every fight… every opponent I defeat feeds into my strength."

A slow smirk played at his lips as he stepped away.

The others in the tournament had no idea.

But Jin Ye was growing stronger with every battle.

"Jin Ye is improving quickly," a woman remarked quietly to her friend. "Maybe he's stronger than we imagined."

Wei Rong watched silently from afar, his eyes narrowed in resentment. He snorted dismissively, masking his growing unease with disdain. Yet beneath his eyes, doubt flickered uncomfortably.

The tournament continued, but now the villagers were more excited than ever. They clearly saw that Jin Ye was no longer the weak, talentless boy they once knew. Each victory reinforced the shift in how he was viewed.