The cold mountain wind swept across the gray stones of the Slate Plateau, carrying the sharp scent of pine and iron-dust. On the southern perimeter, the Iron-Bear Clan’s camp was a picture of simmering fury. Patriarch Xiong’s face was dark as thunder, his large fists clenched so tightly the leather bindings of his gauntlets creaked under the pressure.
Following Xiong Ba’s crushing defeat, the humiliation of losing to a ten-year-old child had stripped away all diplomatic pretense.
"Send out Iron-Tooth," Patriarch Xiong growled without looking back, his voice thick with suppressed rage. "Do not give the Lin brat room to calculate. Tear his defense apart from the first second."
A towering youth stepped forward from the shadows of the Iron-Bear vanguard. He was nearly seventeen years old—right at the upper age limit permitted by the sanctioned skirmish rules—and stood over six feet tall. His shoulders were impossibly broad, draped in heavy, rusted chainmail links, and his lower jaw protruded slightly, bearing two unnaturally thick, filed canine teeth that earned him his moniker.
Iron-Tooth was at Qi Gathering, Level 1, Sub-Level 6. He was a brutal enforcer raised purely on mountain meat and raw, unrefined earth-tonics, possessing none of Xiong Ba’s tactical restraint.
Across the arena, Second Elder Lin Shan watched the massive youth step toward the center ring, his expression turning grim.
"Xuan'er is still recovering from the Qi backflow of the previous round," Lin Shan said, his voice dropping into a tense register as he looked down at his son. "His lateral meridians are running at barely sixty percent efficiency. If he faces an opponent at the same sub-level who specializes in brute physical conditioning, the structural strain could permanently scar his core."
"No," a cold, calm voice interrupted.
Lin Xuan stood up from the boulder where he had been meditating. The blood around his mouth had dried into a dark crust, and his face was unnaturally pale, but his dark eyes burned with an intense, icy clarity. The temporary dizziness and internal tearing had receded, replaced by the bitter, cold focus of a strategist whose model had just been corrected by reality.
"Your Wood-Water elemental affinity is optimized for support and sustained recovery, Chen'er," Lin Xuan said smoothly, stepping past her with deliberate, measured paces. "If you face Iron-Tooth’s raw mass, your defense will crack within three exchanges. This round belongs to me."
"Xuan'er—" Lin Shan started, reaching out a hand, but stopped when he saw the absolute, unyielding resolve burning in his son's eyes. It was no longer the arrogant, untouchable gaze of a child prodigy who thought the world was a solved equation; it was the cold, calculating glare of a predator who had tasted blood and adjusted his parameters accordingly.
Iron-Tooth grinned, revealing his unnaturally thick, yellowed teeth. He cracked his massive neck, a sound like dry branches snapping echoing through the plateau.
"They say you're a genius, brat," Iron-Tooth rumbled, his voice like grinding stones. "A little monster who thinks he can read the world like a book. But books tear easily when they meet a hammer."
Lin Xuan did not exchange banter. He raised his right hand, his fingers curling into a tighter, sharper claw-form than before.
Qi Gathering, Level 1, Sub-Level 6, Lin Xuan’s mind calculated with clinical coldness, running diagnostic checks on his own damaged meridians. At the pinnacle of this realm—Level 1, Sub-Level 12—a cultivator's physical vessel can unleash a staggering force of twenty tons. While we are both at Sub-Level 6, his body-refining tonics give him a higher baseline mass and raw kinetic output than Xiong Ba.
Direct kinetic opposition remains mathematically unviable, Lin Xuan’s dark eyes narrowed into razor-thin slits. Therefore, I will not oppose his force. I will redirect his entire system against itself.
"Begin!" Patriarch Xiong roared from the sidelines, his voice vibrating across the canyon.
Iron-Tooth did not hesitate. He exploded forward, his massive frame kicking up a storm of grey dust as he charged like a maddened bull, bringing down a colossal, iron-reinforced fist straight toward Lin Xuan’s head!