Sovereign of Stolen Fate

The sky churned with dark clouds, casting long shadows over the village square. The air was thick, not only with tension but with Qi itself—pulsing, shifting, unseen yet undeniably present.

Excitement had given way to apprehension. This was no longer just a tournament.

Mayor Wei Tian sat near the stage, his expression impassive but his eyes gleaming with anticipation. This tournament was not simply about martial competition—it was a battle for dominance.

Beside him, Elder Ming exuded calm authority. His powerful Qi radiated steadily, a silent reminder to the combatants that there was a limit to what he would allow. Yet, even he knew—today, blood would be spilled.

With a single, commanding motion, Elder Ming raised his hand.

"The semi-finals begin now!"

"The first match—Wei Rong against Chu Feng!"

The villagers gasped softly, glancing quickly at Chu Feng, a young cultivator previously unnoticed. Chu Feng had quietly risen through the ranks today, surprising everyone by reaching this stage. He stood composed, his steady gaze meeting Wei Rong's arrogant stare confidently.

"Who is Chu Feng?" one villager whispered nervously.

"I heard he's a fourth-stage cultivator," another answered cautiously. "He trains in secret, rarely showing his real strength."

A hushed murmur rippled through the crowd.

Chu Feng was an unknown factor in this tournament, but those with keen eyes noticed something different about him.

"I heard he's mastered Flowing River Technique," another murmured. "A water-based movement art."

On the stage, Chu Feng's eyes were like still water, unwavering.

Wei Rong smirked, his Qi flaring a deep crimson, flickering like a hungry flame. The temperature around him rose slightly, his intent unmistakable.

"Let's see if you can handle real power," he sneered.

"Begin!"

Wei Rong attacked instantly, his fist wreathed in swirling flames.

Crimson Fang Strike!

The air warped from the sheer heat. His fist shot forward, a fiery projectile aimed directly at Chu Feng's chest.

Chu Feng reacted instantly.

His hands blurred into seals—Flowing River Step!

Like mist on a lake, he vanished. Wei Rong's strike met nothing but a faint shimmer of moisture hanging in the air.

Gasps erupted from the crowd.

Wei Rong's smirk faltered. "Tricks won't save you."

He struck again.

Blazing Fang Barrage! A rapid succession of fire-infused punches ignited the air, forcing Chu Feng into relentless movement.

Chu Feng's movements remained fluid, his Qi shaping around him like an invisible current. Each strike that should have landed was redirected at the last second, the force dissipating harmlessly.

Water smothers fire.

Wei Rong's eyes darkened. "Enough of this!"

His Qi spiked dangerously. Flames condensed around his arms, swirling chaotically.

"The Crimson Sun Burns All!"

A roaring inferno exploded outward, consuming everything in its path. The heatwave blasted across the stage, warping the very air itself.

Chu Feng's stance remained firm. His fingers traced a rapid series of seals.

Azure Wave Reversal!

A deep blue aura surged around him, water crashing forward like a tidal wave. The moment fire and water collided, a deafening hiss filled the air—steam erupted in all directions, obscuring the battlefield.

For a heartbeat, all was silent.

Then—a cry of pain.

As the mist cleared, the villagers gasped.

Blood dripped from Chu Feng's shoulder.

Wei Rong had broken through.

Chu Feng staggered back, his expression twisted in pain. His breathing came in short bursts, his Qi clearly weakened.

Wei Rong stepped forward, eyes gleaming.

Chu Feng's hands clenched into fists. He wanted to fight—but his Qi was drained.

After a long pause, he exhaled sharply.

"I surr—"

A fiery foot crashed into his knee.

CRACK!

A horrific scream tore through the square.

The crowd froze.

Chu Feng collapsed, clutching his now-twisted leg.

Wei Rong stood over him, smirking. "Next time, know your place trash."

Gasps of horror spread through the audience. No one spoke. Even those who cheered for Wei Rong remained silent.

Elder Ming's aura flared dangerously, but before he could step forward, Wei Rong had already turned his back, stepping off the stage.

The healers rushed to Chu Feng.

Blood stained the platform.

But the match was over.

Wei Rong's smirk had faded slightly, his eyes flickering toward Jin Ye.

A challenge.

Jin Ye watched in silence.

Elder Ming raised his hand.

"Next match—Jin Ye against Luo Cheng!"

The crowd shifted uneasily. Luo Cheng had already brutalized his previous opponents. He didn't fight to win.

He fought to break.

Luo Cheng stepped onto the platform, his Qi coiling like a serpent around him—dark, heavy, suffocating.

"I hope you're ready," Luo Cheng sneered.

Jin Ye ascended the stage calmly, unshaken.

"I don't expect you to hold back."

Luo Cheng smirked.

"Begin!"

The moment the match began, Luo Cheng moved first, his Tiger's Fang Barrage exploding forward—a flurry of claw-like strikes enhanced with Qi, each swipe designed to rip through Jin Ye's defenses.

But Jin Ye remained calm.

Moonlit Phantom Steps.

Like a shadow slipping through cracks, Jin Ye weaved through the storm of attacks, his body flickering just beyond Luo Cheng's reach. The wind howled from the sheer force of Luo Cheng's strikes, but they met only air.

The crowd watched, stunned.

"He's… dodging everything?" someone whispered.

Luo Cheng snarled, his Qi flaring violently.

"You think you're clever!?"

Stone Splitting Palm!

Luo Cheng slammed his foot down, sending a shockwave of energy through the ground, causing the platform to crack apart. Jin Ye was forced to adjust as the foundation beneath him shifted.

Seizing the opportunity, Luo Cheng followed up instantly.

Tiger's Fang Rend!

His Qi morphed into spectral claws, sharp and merciless, aiming straight for Jin Ye's ribs.

Jin Ye's eyes narrowed.

Rather than retreat, he stepped inward, toward the attack.

His hand snapped forward—Rising Fang Strike!

A precise palm thrust met Luo Cheng's wrist at the perfect angle—redirecting his momentum just enough to throw him off-balance.

Luo Cheng's body twisted unnaturally—his own force working against him.

Jin Ye did not hesitate.

A sharp Scorching Palm crashed into Luo Cheng's ribs, Qi searing into the meridians beneath the skin. Heat pulsed through his body, disrupting his internal circulation.

Luo Cheng's face twisted in agony.

"Y-you—"

Jin Ye did not stop.

A sudden low kick sent Luo Cheng stumbling, and before he could recover, a final palm strike struck his chest, sending him crashing backward.

The crowd gasped.

For the first time… Luo Cheng was struggling.

Luo Cheng coughed violently, blood trickling from his lips. His Qi was unraveling, his body refusing to respond.

The humiliation burned deeper than the pain.

His fingers dug into the splintered wood beneath him.

No. Not like this.

His eyes snapped open.

"I… WON'T LOSE!"

A dangerous surge of Qi erupted around him.

Forced Overdrive!

His body trembled, veins bulging unnaturally as he forcibly pushed his Qi beyond its limits. A reckless, desperate attempt to regain control.

The temperature around them spiked—his own energy starting to tear through his body.

Elder Ming's brows furrowed. "He's forcing himself past his limit. If this continues—"

But Jin Ye had already moved.

Luo Cheng lunged, his Qi twisting violently, an unstable fusion of his strongest techniques.

Tiger's Fang Barrage—Overdriven!

His strength doubled, his strikes becoming wild, chaotic, filled with pure desperation.

Jin Ye did not waver.

He exhaled sharply—and for the first time, he unleashed his full force.

His Qi surged outward, a controlled but overwhelming presence.

"You lost the moment you forced yourself."

His body blurred forward—Moonlit Phantom Steps into Rising Fang Strike!

Luo Cheng's wild assault met… nothing.

And in the next heartbeat—Jin Ye was behind him.

A precise strike crashed into the base of Luo Cheng's neck.

His entire body froze.

The Qi ruptured inside him.

A strangled gasp left his lips before his body collapsed.

Jin Ye caught him just before he hit the ground. Not out of kindness—but out of necessity.

If he had let him fall, his spine would have shattered.

The arena was silent.

Jin Ye leaned in, his voice low. "Know your limits next time."

Then, he let Luo Cheng slump onto the stage.

As Jin Ye stepped down from the stage, a familiar warmth surged through him.

But this time, it was stronger.

It was no longer just a vague sensation—it was clearer now, more refined. His Qi flowed faster, his control sharper, his meridians subtly enhanced.

Each breath felt… easier.

He was absorbing it.

The defeated talent. The wasted potential.

It was feeding into him.

Jin Ye inhaled slowly, the reality settling in. With every victory, he was growing stronger.

Every battle was whetstone.

A slow smirk curled his lips.

The villagers erupted into cheers and whispers.

"Jin Ye truly surprised us again," one murmured. "But Wei Rong… he's still terrifying."

"The final match will decide everything," another said anxiously. "Will Jin Ye be able to win?"

Wei Rong's smirk had returned—but behind it…

A sliver of doubt.