The sun hadn't fully risen yet, but East Sky Academy was already buzzing. Rumors spread faster than wildfire on dry plains. Last night's fight in the outer dorms had gone from a whispered tale to something bordering myth.
"Did you hear? Lin Feng beat up Li Zong and his goons."
"The sickly one?"
"They said he used some kind of forbidden technique. Blew them across the room with one wave of his hand!"
"Impossible. He's weaker than a paper talisman!"
"I heard the crystal orb showed 'Unknown Potential' when he tested!"
"Unknown Potential? What's that even mean?"
All this chatter swirled through the academy's stone courtyards, over the scroll-stuffed classrooms, through training fields where students honed blade and body, and finally… it reached the ears of someone who should never have heard it.
Lu Yao.
Ranked number three among the outer academy's top ten. A genius with a high-grade Earth root. Powerful, handsome, cold. And more importantly—petty.
He was sparring against a large stone dummy when a trembling junior rushed over.
"Senior Brother Lu! Something… something odd happened last night."
Lu Yao frowned. "Spit it out."
"It's Lin Feng… he defeated Li Zong and registered spiritual awakening in the tower this morning."
The stone dummy cracked in half under Lu Yao's punch.
"Lin Feng? That weakling?"
"Yes! But now he's… different. There's talk of 'Unknown Potential.' Even Instructor Wen looked shocked."
Lu Yao's jaw tightened. He remembered Lin Feng. Everyone did. The punching bag of the academy. The orphan with no support. The one he used to humiliate with a single push to the dirt.
And now he was making waves?
"Where is he?"
"Instructor Zhu's class. Tier 1 Spiritual Theory."
Lu Yao cracked his knuckles. "I think I'll pay him a visit."
Instructor Zhu's classroom was on the east wing—a circular arena built more like a coliseum than a study hall. Stone benches wrapped around a central platform where instructors lectured and students dueled.
Yun Zai—Lin Feng—sat quietly on the lowest tier, arms folded. His robes were still old and patched, but his posture had shifted. Upright. Alert. Relaxed—but with a cold confidence that hadn't been there days ago.
A girl beside him kept glancing at him, clearly debating whether to ask something. She finally whispered:
"Are the rumors true?"
He looked over. "Rumors?"
"That you're cultivating again. That you injured Li Zong."
He smirked. "Do I look injured?"
She blushed and looked away.
Instructor Zhu walked in, calling for silence. "Today we will begin the lecture on 'Qi Conduction and Meridians.' All of you are expected to have read scrolls two through seven from the Spiritual Primer…"
Half the students yawned. Others scribbled nonsense in their notebooks.
Only Lin Feng closed his eyes and listened.
He wasn't learning. He was remembering.
This was child's play to him.
His thoughts drifted. How long would it take to reach the Spirit Sea Realm again? Could this frail body withstand the ancient techniques he remembered? Could the Void Origin Method be restructured to suit modern meridian maps?
A loud laugh interrupted his thoughts.
"Lin Feng! There you are."
The room went still.
Lu Yao stepped through the open archway, flanked by two followers. He carried a longsword on his back, and a sneer on his lips.
Instructor Zhu paused. "Lu Yao, this is a theory class. What are you doing?"
"Apologies, Instructor. I'm just curious about something."
He walked right up to Lin Feng.
"You beat Li Zong, I heard?"
Lin Feng didn't rise. "He tried to rob me. I responded."
Lu Yao smirked. "And now you think you've got some power?"
"I don't think," Lin Feng replied calmly. "I simply know where I stand. And where trash like him belongs."
Gasps rippled through the room.
Lu Yao's smile faded.
"Then let's test that confidence."
Instructor Zhu frowned. "Duels require authorization."
Lu Yao raised a token. "Inner academy combat permit. Issued just this morning."
He had prepared for this.
Instructor Zhu sighed. "Fine. After class. Training Field Three."
Lu Yao turned to leave. "Don't be late, Lin Feng. I'd hate to beat you in front of the entire outer academy without an audience."
Training Field Three.
A large dirt arena surrounded by engraved warding stones. Dozens of students had gathered, forming a circle around the central platform.
Word had spread.
A 'trash' student reborn in strength.
A top genius demanding blood.
It was the kind of drama East Sky Academy fed on.
Lin Feng stepped into the ring first. Alone. No friends. No supporters. But his gaze was calm, as if he stood in a forest breeze.
Lu Yao entered next, drawing his sword with a flourish.
"Instructor Tian will officiate," a robed elder announced.
"Combatants ready?"
"Yes," they both said.
"Begin."
Lu Yao struck instantly.
A flash of silver light surged forward, sword aimed at Lin Feng's ribs.
Lin Feng didn't move.
At the last second, he shifted his foot.
The sword missed by an inch.
Lu Yao spun, slashing upward.
Lin Feng bent backward, letting the blade pass over his nose.
Gasps rang out.
Lu Yao growled. "Stop dodging!"
"Why?" Lin Feng said, finally lifting a hand.
He flicked his fingers.
A wave of soul force blasted outward. Lu Yao's body jolted, stumbling backward three steps.
"Soul cultivator?!" someone shouted.
"Impossible!"
Soul cultivation was rare. Dangerous. Few could survive it without massive fortitude.
Lu Yao roared and surged forward again, activating a sword technique—Silver Rain Thrust.
Dozens of strikes fell like rain.
Lin Feng exhaled slowly. Then moved.
One step.
Two.
He weaved between the strikes like water flowing around rocks.
Then—his palm met Lu Yao's chest.
A surge of force.
Lu Yao flew across the field and slammed into the barrier wall.
Silence.
Lin Feng stood alone, hand lowered.
Instructor Tian raised an eyebrow. "Winner—Lin Feng."
The crowd erupted.
Lu Yao coughed blood, eyes wide with disbelief.
Lin Feng turned to leave, pausing only to say:
"If that's number three in the rankings… this academy truly has fallen."
The cheers doubled. Some laughed. Others gaped in awe.
And in a dark corner, a figure watched.
A girl in black robes.
Expression unreadable.
She turned away.
And whispered, "Void energy… Could it really be him?"
To be continue...