Chapter One: Cultivation and Competition

Atop the continent’s highest peak, inky black clouds rolled and thundered, with massive silver bolts of lightning flashing relentlessly within their depths, unleashing deafening, terrifying roars that made it seem as if nothing remained in the world but this earth-shaking thunder. Su Yi stood at the summit, ethereal as an immortal. The raging winds, furious clouds, and the primordial lightning that threatened to annihilate all things could not shake him in the slightest; it was as if he had stood there for millennia.

With a slight movement of his hand, the Blood of Heaven and the Nine Nether Heavenly Thunder appeared in his palm. For a moment, even the heavens and earth seemed to tremble in mournful resonance. Gazing down at all living things from this height, Su Yi—who had finally become the pinnacle existence in this world—felt as if a lifetime had passed in a single instant. After so many years of struggle, he had at last climbed to this summit.

Memories of those past days began to resurface in his mind...

...

Unnoticed, dusk was drawing near. The sun slanted westward, casting lazy rays through gaps in the forest canopy, speckling the ground with flecks of golden light. Occasionally, a gentle breeze would stir the leaves, causing the scattered light to dance across the earth like schools of fish. The comfortable sunshine, the soft breeze, and the unique tranquility of twilight would make anyone want to lean against a tree and nap.

Yet, beneath a lush, broad tree, a youth of about eighteen sat cross-legged, his hands resting on his knees, deep in meditation. His chest rose and fell gently as he adjusted his breathing, the rhythm slow and steady, until no sound of breath could be heard at all.

Within his body, his energy circulated in a closed loop. The surrounding energy seemed drawn by an invisible force, slowly seeping into his body, flowing throughout his limbs, stimulating and strengthening bones and sinews.

“Today, I must break through to the seventh stage of Qi!” he vowed.

In the Continent of Battle Qi, cultivating Qi was a path every practitioner had to walk. Only after reaching the ninth stage of Qi and condensing a Qi vortex could one become a true Fighter—there were no shortcuts. The nine stages of Qi were divided into three levels: stages one to three were basic, four to six intermediate, and seven to nine advanced. Each stage brought a noticeable increase in Qi, but advancing to a new level multiplied one’s power severalfold.

Reaching the advanced stage meant cultivation speed would increase dramatically; without mishap, progressing to the ninth stage would not be difficult. Thus, reaching the seventh stage was the first major barrier to becoming a Fighter.

The energy from the surroundings was steadily being absorbed into the youth’s body. As more and more accumulated, his inner reserves neared their limit. Sensing this, the youth furrowed his brow, a surge of excitement—and a trace of worry—rising in his heart.

In the next instant, he clenched his teeth, his energy surging wildly as he drew in the surrounding power with renewed desperation. His aura became so fierce that fallen leaves swirled around him, but he concentrated with all his strength, determined to absorb every bit into his core.

The turbulent energy circled him, half entering and transforming into Qi, while the rest slipped away or hovered uncertainly. Suddenly, the energy swirling about him shuddered violently, like a wild horse breaking free, and shot into the air. Moments later, the youth’s aura weakened and gradually subsided.

“Alas… another failure…” he sighed, sensing his ebbing strength. It was his third attempt to break through the seventh stage.

He remembered his former glory—at fifteen, he had become a fourth-level Fighter, embarking on the path to power. In just two years, he had leapt six ranks to become a tenth-level Fighter, a prodigy among his peers.

He could have gone much further, if not for the event a year ago…

Recalling the envy and awe in others’ eyes during his heyday, compared to the derision and contempt he faced now, the youth could only shake his head and smile bitterly. In the end, only strength speaks. All because of those people! A cold glint flashed in his eyes. A gentleman’s revenge can wait ten years—when the chance comes, he would repay them in full.

He had to become stronger.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he sighed, let his hands drop, leaned against the tree, and gazed at the setting sun, lost in reminiscence.

He carried a secret no one else in this world knew: he was not from this world.

Years had passed since, and many memories had faded. He vaguely remembered working late as an office worker, returning home, falling asleep, and awakening in another world.

The first person he saw upon waking was Miss Meya. Only later did he learn that he had been pursued, covered in blood, lying beside a lake, his body soaked. Meya had happened to pass by and saved him, bringing him to Changling City.

After living there for some time, he realized he was in another world—a world filled with Battle Qi, a world with only one continent. Here, Battle Qi was woven into daily life, and countless people cultivated it. He was now one of them.

Though originally from Earth and unfamiliar with cultivation, he soon discovered that, given his appearance and manner, his soul had likely possessed the body of a stranger who had already died. The memories of his predecessor were vague, scattered fragments at best.

Fortunately, he could recall the major techniques for cultivating Battle Qi, likely deeply imprinted through long practice. At fifteen, the former owner of this body had already cultivated Ice-type Qi to the fourth Fighter level—a prodigious talent.

Not knowing the original name, he used his own—Su Yi.

After his soul’s arrival, he discovered his spiritual power far exceeded others’, and his cultivation advanced with astonishing speed. In just two years, he had reached the tenth Fighter level.

“They must be holding the tournament now… Perhaps it’s nearly over,” Su Yi murmured, shaking off his reverie and glancing at the sky.

...

“The final match! Begin now!”

On the bluestone training ground, two men in their thirties faced off, fully aware of each other’s strength. One misstep, and the hard-won chance to claim first place—and the honor that came with it—would be lost. Their only option was to give their all and seize the title of the strongest.

No—even if it took everything, they must win! Victory meant becoming Miss Meya’s guard. The thought stoked their battle lust until it burned like fire, each man longing to defeat his rival in a single blow.

As their fighting spirits flared, their auras rose and clashed, filling the arena with oppressive tension. The spectators, infected by the colliding energies, held their breath in silence, the scene shrouded in a deathly stillness.

An old man in the center observed the two warriors, nodded slightly, announced the start of the match, and stepped aside.

The moment he withdrew, tension snapped taut.

With a sharp whistle, battle erupted. One of the men made the first move, his body flashing forward in a sudden burst, fist clenched, skin yellowed with energy. When only half a meter remained between them, he struck—his fist roaring forth with the force of a rampaging beast, tearing through the air with a terrifying ferocity.

“Look! Duan Shi moves first! That’s the Earth-rank technique: Mountain-Crushing Fist!”

“As expected of a sixth-level Fighter, what a powerful aura! I wonder if Captain Di Yuan can withstand it?”

“Are you kidding? Captain Di Yuan is the strongest among us, and rumor has it he’s close to the seventh level!”

“No way! I thought only Su Yi was that much of a monster.”

“Pah! That guy’s a waste! Whoa—Di Yuan’s attacking too!”

All eyes turned to the field. Di Yuan’s expression darkened as he thrust his right hand forward like an arrow, forceful and unyielding, countering after Duan Shi but moving even faster. The two surging powers collided head-on.

A thunderous explosion shook the arena.

The shockwave swept across the spectators, making their clothes ripple and, for those of lesser strength, even forcing their eyes shut. Yet, excitement and fervor overtook the crowd—the blood-pounding thrill of a true contest between men.

To be a man was to seek strength, to become powerful, to advance and retreat with confidence, to stride across the world!

Duan Shi and Di Yuan, swept up in the passion, roared as their fists and feet flew, each blow colliding in a shower of sparks, the sound of battle ringing fierce and clear.

High above the field, a woman in a red dress lounged languidly in her chair, her voluptuous, alluring figure curled up like a lazy fox. Her charm rivaled the intensity of the battle below, and the curves barely concealed by her dress drew many wandering glances. Some men, unable to control themselves, felt a heat rising in their bellies.

“Hey, where are you looking?”

“I’m watching Meya… Uh, I mean, of course I’m watching the match…”

“Yeah, right! Watching the match—so why are you drooling?”

“If everyone’s watching the fight, how did you see me drooling? Wait—don’t tell me you’re…”

武道巅峰1_Chapter 1: Cultivation and Competition — End of Update