The morning of the tournament dawned, casting a golden hue across the expansive stage that spanned five hundred meters in length and width. Disciples from various sects gathered, creating a large clamor as they stood in formation. The rowdy male disciples roughhoused and bantered, their laughter and shouts echoing like the clashing of swords, while the female disciples gossiped and complimented each other on their beauty routines, their voices like the soft rustling of silk.

  This left the group of four guests feeling isolated, enduring the gazes and scoffing remarks from the residents who had heard about the rowdy bunch running around. Despite their many battle experiences, engaging in social activities had not prepared them for being left alone in an unfamiliar environment, surrounded by malicious, scornful strangers.

  The bustle of the disciples continued for hours, with echoes reverberating off the distant colosseum stands, making it difficult to understand a single word from any nearby person. The sheer volume of chatter created a cacophony that was disorienting for the visitors. The four huddled closer to figure out the situation they found themselves in.

  “Did you find him yet?” Illia looked at her twin brother, hoping he somehow had a different answer than fifteen minutes ago. Her eyes were filled with concern and frustration, reflecting her anxiety.

  “No, he wasn’t in his room this morning. I even checked the tavern. What about you, Andre?” Ouro shook his head, his eyes darting nervously around the crowd. His usual composure was shaken by the anxiety of the situation.

  “Same, nothing there or around the periphery of the lakes. I even went to the red light district in the nearby town on the off chance.” Andre gesticulated his helplessness in agitation.

  “Did you even really look for him?!” Sophia flatly asked as she twisted his ear. Her stoic facade barely hid her own worry and irritation.

  “Ow, ow, ow. I did, I swear!” he cried, waving his arms in defeat. The pain in his ear bringing him to tears.

  “Where could he—” Illia stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she noticed a sudden change in the environment. The rowdy crowd became eerily quiet and stood motionless in columns, all staring in the direction of the balcony.

  Descending from the clouds of morning glow were three dark figures; the elders of the Iron Tortoise Sect. Their posture was straight like jack pines, emanating unbridled power while not bothering to suppress the aura of their cultivation level.

  “GOOD MORNING, SECT MASTERS!” The disciples roared their respects, causing the ground to tremble slightly. The act caught the four off guard, and they fumbled in giving their respects, which caught everyone’s attention. Their awkwardness only added to their sense of isolation.

  “Very good. We are here today for you to showcase your developments and share insights with your juniors while forging new relationships with our allied sects’ new generation.” The oldest figure gave a perfunctory gesture as he landed. His tone was authoritative, commanding the attention of all present.

  “The reward for any sect that wins is one Earth-grade treasure from our treasury, including twelve bone vein condensing pills, which help all cultivators under the ‘Foundation’ stage to condense the bones and improve or remove any blockage in their meridian lines.” The mention of such valuable rewards sent a ripple of excitement through the crowd, their whispers rising in anticipation.

  “We sent invitations to our neighboring sects as usual for this tournament. Will the representatives from each sect come forward?” the female elder beckoned in a gravelly voice. Her presence was assertive, her gaze sweeping over the gathered disciples.

  “Yes, seniors!” Three people rushed towards the front of the formation, either jumping, floating, or emerging from a pool of shadows to bow in respect. Their movements were graceful and fluid, displaying their training and discipline.

  “Turquoise Flowers Sect, Nether Beast Sect, and Swift Gale Sect, are your teams ready?” The elder’s voice was curt, demanding immediate responses.

  “Yes, ma’am!” A large muscular man in fur clothing responded in a casual but respectful voice.

  “Indeed. Thank you for the chance for my sisters to witness the outside world.” A thin, pale-skinned woman answered with a curtsy, elegantly causing her glossy ink-black hair to fan out, enrapturing all the men in the audience with her grace and poise.

  “We are ready…but need a moment for our fifth member to…finish his call home.” Illia blushed at the circumstance she found herself in when compared to the other representatives’ responses. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, and she shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the spectators' gaze.

  “Did your member perhaps lose his sword while jumping around on a tour?” Olivia stoked the fire to humiliate the man who mocked her, causing the people around her to openly laugh. Her words were laced with venom, clearly enjoying the opportunity to ridicule her rival.

  “Tsk. We shall proceed with the first challenge, the measurement of cultivation. We will… give SWIFT GALE SECT time by going last.” Her gravelly voice echoed across the stadium, aggressively embarrassing one sect by loudly exposing their name. The act caused all the people to snicker in ridicule, even the two guest sects could not help but look down on Illia.

  The crowd dispersed from the stadium, leaving only the nineteen participants in their groups. A large, ornate stone obelisk displayed the list of names and their respective sects. To the right of the obelisk was a jade gyroscope, its rings spinning to measure qi volume and control.

  Illia returned to her group with her head down, biting her lip until it bled, the sting of humiliation evident.

  “I’m gonna punch him!” Her remark left the others with wry smiles. They looked at the other groups to gauge the competition, only to see disdain or apathy. Observing the monument, they saw their names at the very bottom.

  “Who are you gonna punch?” Soloman dropped his camouflage, the light on his chest dimming, revealing the bags under his eyes and his bulging lab coat. The others pulled back in shock at his sudden arrival and appearance. Illia, seeing her target, launched a quick jab into his stomach, only to feel the sensation of an iron ball against her knuckle. The unexpected hardness left her wincing in pain.

  “OWW! What do you have under there?!” Illia blew on her hand, holding back tears. The pain was sharp, her knuckles throbbing from the impact.

  “Rude girl. I was up all night making us equipment for a sweeping victory.”Soloman handed each of them a silver glove with a palm-sized red jewel on the wrist joint. His voice was calm, unshaken by the earlier commotion.

  “What are these? H-How did you make these in two days?” Andre was confused, his eyes wide with amazement as he examined the glove. The intricate designs and the red jewel left him in awe.

  “Yawn~ I learned how to use inscriptions on items to create effects, and some grateful people helped with the materials.” Soloman explained, swaying from sleep deprivation. “I need my caffeine pills.” His voice was calm yet weary, the toll of his sleepless nights evident.

  “What effects?” Sophia examined the glove, noticing the frosted glass-like inscriptions in symmetrical patterns. Her curiosity was piqued, her eyes scanning every detail.

  “Ancillary energy control to amplify your output. In short, better energy usage per capita.” Soloman yawned heavily, leaving the four shocked. His explanation was simple yet profound, landing on their ears like boulders.

  “HOW?! That’s the stuff of legends.” Ouro whispered catching his mistake, ensuring no one else heard about the artifact. “Just one could lead to conflict, let alone four.”

  “Using transistors on top of these inscriptions regulates the energy release, reducing waste and making it more potent. I was going to add more to increase total energy, but I was told it wasn’t fair.” Soloman pulled out a thermos containing highly caffeinated tea he grew with Elder Shariz’s help. His explanation was technical, showcasing his foreign knowledge leaving the group befuddled.

  {No cheating! Geez, with your methods, this world would be turned upside down.} Priscilla yelled from inside the ‘thought box,’ sticking her tongue out.

  “Transistors?” Ouro’s mind racing to grasp the concept.

  “You could have added more?!”

  “…So it’s not cheating then?” Sophia determined with a sparkle in her eyes.

  “Sophia!” Illia spoke in a low tone, incredulous at her remark. Her voice was stern, reflecting her internal conflict.

  “Why not? It doesn’t increase our natural qi, only our control over it, right?” Sophia argued unyielding, determined to perform at the highest level and rebuke those ridiculing her sect.

  “Exactly,” Soloman snapped his fingers in affirmation, “you all should thank Sharis and Mùchén for teaching me for months on how y’all’s version of circuitry works. This wouldn’t have been possible without them.”

  “Shut it! I need to think more on this.” Illia was conflicted about the morality of using treasures in competitions. Her hesitation evident by her grabbing and bopping her head multiple times.

  “Illia…I understand where you’re coming from, but using an item our team members made themselves is no different than using pills or weapons in the real world.” Andre chimed in, sharing his thoughts with their group’s leader.

  “Sis, the competition is to show our sect’s strengths. Soloman is one of them, and having our home ridiculed for decades can no longer be tolerated.” Her twin brother Ouro placed his hand on her shoulder, encouraging her to raise her head and see the determination in their team. His voice was firm, filled with conviction.

  “Besides, we need this since we have a handicap with Soloman being introduced as a body cultivator to the elders here.” Sophia gave the final push, her voice unwavering.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “…Alright, alright. We’ll use them, but no one can ever know what these are. Just say it’s part of our uniform, okay?” Illia conceded, causing the entire group to hug her in joy. Blushing up a storm, she gazed over at Soloman, who was staring at the competitors on the stage.

  The obelisk already showed the results of the Iron Tortoise Sect members, meaning there would be no way to know if there was foul play.

  {Bunch of scammers.} She giggled placing her long hair over her mouth as she blushed.

  “So what are you gonna do for the first test, Soloman? It’s known that body cultivators can’t control qi like most cultivators.” Illia’s voice carried a mix of curiosity and concern, her eyes fixed on Soloman.

  “Oh, I’m just gonna bullshit it.” Soloman responded quickly, without much thought. His nonchalant attitude caught everyone off guard.

  “What?” All four looked at him in disbelief at his haphazard answer.

  “…How much do you know about body cultivators? None, right? If you don’t, how many of these people will? So~.” Soloman’s voice trailed off as a sly smile played on his lips as he crossed his arms. His confidence was unsettling yet intriguing.

  {Liar, and a schemer.} Priscilla giggled, covering her mouth. Her playful commentary added a layer of humor to the situation.

  “You’re gonna bluff.” Illia rubbed her temples, picturing the potential fiasco that could unfold.

  “From here to kingdom come. Oh look, it’s almost Andre’s turn.” Soloman pointed with his chin to the obelisk, which glowed with the name of the person on stage and recorded the results.

  One ‘Qi Refinement’ in the ninth layer, five ‘Foundation’ fourth layer, two ‘Foundation’ seventh layer, four ‘Foundation’ eighth layer, and three in the ‘Core Forming’ first stage from the other sect representatives, with all members not exceeding four rings on the jade gyroscope.

  The group looked at the scores and started trembling, covering their mouths to stifle any noise. Soloman, noticing their behavior, quickly became concerned.

  “Wow~.” The four mummbled in unison.

  “Are they that formidable?” Soloman hearing them uncrossed his arms and started fidgeting with his bag, tinkering with items that might further assist them, only to hear laughs escaping from the group and from inside the ‘thought box’.

  {They’re so weak! Hahaha~!}

  “N-No, that’s no-not it. I’m afraid to say that your gloves might not be needed after all.” Sophia was the first to break, openly laughing as she patted Soloman’s shoulder. Though the audience was cheering for their sect members, her infectious laughter caught the attention of the elders and the group who had just finished congratulating themselves. They looked at the uncouth country bumpkins, confused as to why a sect that lost every year would dare to laugh at their betters.

  “Has something occurred that would allow you the desecration of this event and laugh at your peers?” The third elder, who had not yet spoken, gazed at the younglings who dared to disrupt the decorum of the tournament.

  “Ahem. Nothing, Elder. We have found our fifth member. Andre, hurry up to the stage.” Illia smoothed the situation, using Andre to divert attention.

  Andre walked up to the stage in small strides, enduring the condemnation from the contestants and chides from the audience. The constant mockery of his home and family burned in him a passion to make a grand show and put them in their place.

  He clenched his fist tighter, determined to turn their words from disdain to praise. The thought of having their sect reign proudly once again filled his mind as he placed his hand on the jade gyroscope’s epitaph.

  “Hurry and show us the strength that matches your predecessors.” Olivia yelled from the ringside, reminding everyone of the constant failure of the Swift Gale Sect. Her voice dripped with condescension, adding fuel to Andre’s determination.

  …

  The disciple in charge of recording the results had to look back and forth between the results and the person from a declining sect, flabbergasted. “Core Forming stage third layer… and seven of twelve rings stabilized.”

  “…They’re using pills!” The results visible to those closest to the stage froze them stiff, while the audience in the stands voiced their skepticism, asking the elders to check the results further.

  “Cheating!”

  “Immoral methods!” The accusations echoed through the stadium, the crowd’s disbelief palpable.

  “Silence! To disparage his results would mean to question the results of the previous disciples and spit on our sect’s reputation. None of you wish to challenge our sect’s integrity, do you?” The Elder’s voice boomed across the stadium, causing birds in the distance to leave their roosts. The pressure he exuded caused many people to faint, while the few who endured broke into a cold sweat and fell into complete silence. His presence was overwhelming, commanding respect and obedience.

  “I’m next!” Sophia, following Andre’s performance, jumped straight onto the stage with a smile that screamed arrogance and determination. Her usual stoic demeanor was replaced with a fierce competitive spirit, ready to prove her worth.

  “Core Forming stage fifth layer… and six of twelve stabilized.” He announced the results again, which was met with stone-cold silence. The audience, still reeling from the previous shock, now stared in stunned disbelief, unable to comprehend the sudden shift in power dynamics.

  The elders observing the jade gyroscope determined that the results were not tampered with, and using their senses to check the bodies of the two people, found that there were no pills in their system to falsify their true abilities. The representatives from the other sects looked at the remaining members with the gaze of predators treading into another’s territory.

  The constant praise of being geniuses, lip service from their peers, and having their names be the common gossip in the land, only to have their efforts squashed by a group of no-name bumpkins, hurt their ego and earned the ‘Swift Gale Sect’ members their ire.

  “My name is Ouro, the direct disciple of Elder Mùchén, remember it!” He locked eyes with the two representatives as he injected his qi into the device behind him. His voice carried a mix of pride and defiance, daring anyone to ridicule his sect again.

  “Core Forming stage eighth layer… and nine of twelve stabilized.” A ruckus broke out from the results, asking if they were spirit beasts in disguise or what pills they took to fake these results. Even the elders could not control the situation any longer with just words and had to take action to demonstrate fair practice.

  “All members from the Swift Gale Sect gather onto the stage.” The third elder beckoned. The party of five stood on the stage, backs straight and chests puffed out as the elder placed his hand over their dantian. His touch was firm, his expression serious as he examined each member.

  He finally stood in front of Soloman, only to have his hand grabbed before he could inject his qi. Soloman’s grip was strong and unyielding, his eyes meeting the elder’s with a calm intensity. He struggled to push or pull himself free, which caught the attention of all those around the ring.

  “I believe I was listed as a body cultivator and have no dantian, so your examination will be fruitless. Can we proceed with the final test for Ms. Illia? Her results need to be recognized.” The last thing he needed was to have another three people badger him about his implants or the non-existence of merdian lines like the elders in his sect do at every turn.

  “Tsk. Then punch the obelisk to show your strength if that’s all you have.” In the pugilist world of cultivation, those of lesser or no cultivation were always looked down upon as wastes. The elder’s disdain was evident in his tone, his words dripping with condescension.

  “There are no pills in their system nor do they have a treasured physique!” The third elder shouted the results, which left the entire stadium in awe of the dark horse called ‘Swift Gale Sect’ that still had two people left to showcase their abilities.

  Olivia couldn’t help but bite her lips and cover her face with a fan to hide her annoyance at a group of rowdy children who acted like tourists when she first met them.

  “Illia, the direct disciple of Elder Mùchén and proud member of ‘Swift Gale Sword Sect’, is here to show you our might!” A massive pool of yellow qi exploded from her body, reaching twenty meters high, creating gusts of wind, then quickly condensed back into her body as she channeled it through the glove. The audacious spectacle made the entire stadium roar in cheer. The display of power was awe-inspiring, a testament to her strength and training.

  “Core formation stage…tenth layer…eleven of twelve…st-stabilized.” The recorder couldn’t believe the results even after the elders proved there was no tampering. A twenty-two-year-old woman with cultivation almost at the level of a sect elder. His voice trembled, reflecting his disbelief.

  …

  “How is that possible?” Olivia’s lips trembled as she nearly broke down in tears, hearing the cheers of the people roar and witnessing the group she looked down upon hug each other in joy. She had struggled for years in combat and even practiced dual cultivation to reach the same level as the other representatives, only to be left in the dust by a backwater whelp. Her voice was filled with a mix of disbelief and despair.

  “Wh-what about you, sir?” The recorder trembled as he looked at the stoic man approaching the device.

  “I don’t have any cultivation.”

  {Two centimeters to the right of the tiger symbol is the soft spot.} Priscilla’s voice guided him, her tone filled with confidence.

  “S-so how are you—WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” The recorder’s eyes bulged as he saw the stoic figure cock his fist back towards the scoreboard. His voice was filled with panic, unable to comprehend the impending destruction.

  “It’s an Earth-grade artifact! Even ‘Golden Pill’ stage elders struggle to leave a mark on it, let alone a mortal like you.” The panic in the recorder's voice increased, reflecting the gravity of Soloman's actions.

  {Break it! Show that old man his folly for looking down on us.} Priscilla cheered excitedly.

  Soloman bent his elbow ninety degrees, rotating his body with his back leg pushing forward to increase momentum. He shifted his shoulder and arm to maximize the punch’s velocity. “Your elder asked me to. Ask him to fix it.”

  As the crowd continued cheering and discussing future prospects, they failed to notice the final contender on stage until they heard a shattering noise and felt a gust of wind. Dust filled the surrounding edges of the ring, the crackle and rumbling of stone echoing.

  The three-story high monument, an Earth-grade treasure polished daily by new recruits, collapsed. Soloman’s punch pierced through the stone like tofu, causing fracture lines to spider across the entire face, reducing it from a mirror-polished slab to palm-sized rocks.

  From treasure to dust, this event would spread through the lands. The shockwave left the audience in stunned silence, the sheer force of the punch reverberating through the stadium.

  “Soloman, what did you do?!” Illia’s eyes bulged as she ran up to Soloman and gave his shin a quick kick as her emotions were boiling over.

  “I took the exam as that old guy told me to. That hurt, by the way.” Soloman calmly responded, dusting off his white lab coat as he looked at Illia, who was now holding her own shin. His nonchalance only added to the surreal nature of the moment.

  “Bullshit it did.” She squealed through gritted teeth, trying to mask the pain in her shin.

  The three elders stared at the rubble in a stupor, unable to process what had transpired. The eldest finally broke the silence, landing next to Soloman and facing the crowd. His expression was a mix of disbelief and forced composure.

  “Let this be a lesson to never underestimate your opponent, even when they appear mortal. There is always a danger of them being a body cultivator. Even a lion goes all out when hunting a rabbit.” Using his life experience, he found a way to pull something valuable from the loss, making it seem intended. His words were a thinly veiled attempt to salvage the situation.

  “Yes, Sect Master!” All the Iron Tortoise disciples took the lesson to heart. To have their elders sacrifice a valuable treasure for a simple lesson left many with tears of appreciation. The reverence in their voices contrasted sharply with the earlier skepticism.

  “Thank you for the valuable lesson!” The pale, black-haired woman bowed, her voice laced with a mix of respect and wonder.

  “I have learned a lot from today!” The representative in fur clothing kowtowed hard enough to splatter blood on his leggings. The raw display of gratitude was a testament to the high reputation of the tournament in the continent.

  “Very good! On to the next portion of the tournament, we will head to the ‘Pagoda of Erudition’ for the Dao comprehension segment.” He quickly gave the order and turned to speak to Soloman as he passed him. His tone carried an undercurrent of frustration, barely contained.

  “Your sect better compensate us for this loss.” The Sect Master glared, pompously stroking his beard, his frustration laid bare in the tightness of his jaw. His voice was filled with anger, his eyes flashing with indignation.

  “What compensation? Ask your elder why he asked me to hit something so soft for the test. If anything, we need an explanation for why you didn’t prepare properly for a body cultivator like myself.” Soloman scoffed, his calm demeanor unshaken, pushing the burden and blame back to them.

  “What?!” The Sect Master’s face reddened with anger, and he pulled an inch of beard off as he glared at his peer, who quickly looked away and bolted.

  “Let’s go, guys. Time to win the next part.” Soloman waved down his group, his confidence unwavering. His nonchalance in the face of adversity was infectious, bolstering the spirits of his companions as they prepared for the next challenge.