Morning dawned over Frostcloud Village.
Golden sunlight spilled across the rooftops as roosters crowed and mist clung to the trees like fading dreams. Inside the Long Clan's open martial grounds, dozens of clan members had already gathered, forming a half-circle around the dueling platform at the center.
Today was the Annual Clan Evaluation—a day of pride for the talented, and humiliation for the weak.
Banners fluttered above the courtyard as elders took their seats in elevated pavilions. Young men and women lined up in training robes, each eager to show off their cultivation stage. Spiritual energy buzzed faintly in the air.
Among them stood a young man with a mocking smirk—Long Wu, second son of Elder Long Yuan. Clad in jade-colored robes, his body exuded Qi Condensation stage 3 aura. At just 17, he was considered a prodigy in the village.
He cracked his knuckles as he looked around. "Where is that trash Long Feng? Still hiding?"
Snickers spread through the crowd.
"Maybe he's still coughing blood from last night."
"Don't blame him. Some people are just born weak."
"I heard his meridians are sealed… what a joke of a cultivator."
Long Wu smirked proudly. "He'll never dare to show his face again."
But as if summoned by fate, the crowd stirred.
Footsteps echoed at the gates. Heads turned.
A boy in torn robes walked forward slowly, shoulders straight, chin lifted. His face was bruised, but his eyes burned gold like twin suns.
Long Feng had arrived.
The jeering stopped.
No one spoke.
There was something off—his aura hadn't changed, but the way he moved, the energy in his gaze… it was like a dragon wearing human skin.
"I apologize," Long Feng said casually. "I overslept. But I heard it's trash-punishment day… so I came."
"You dare show your face?" Long Wu stepped forward, fists clenched. "You're worse than a cripple. You're embarrassing our clan!"
Long Feng tilted his head. "Yet you're obsessed with me. Are you sure you don't love me, cousin?"
Laughter burst from the younger disciples. Even some elders cracked smiles.
"You—!" Long Wu's face turned red. "I'll teach you a lesson!"
One of the elders—Long Yuan—stood. "Enough games! Begin the evaluation!"
A large crystal orb was brought forward and placed on a pedestal. It was the Spirit Testing Orb—used to measure a person's cultivation and potential.
One by one, the clan's youths stepped forward.
"Long Wei – Qi Condensation, stage 2. Above average."
"Long Shan – Body Tempering, peak level."
"Long Wu – Qi Condensation, stage 3. Excellent!"
Applause followed as Long Wu smiled smugly.
Then came the moment everyone had waited for.
Long Feng stepped up to the orb.
Murmurs spread like wildfire. "He's really doing it?"
"This will be embarrassing…"
"I bet it won't even light up."
Long Feng placed his palm on the orb.
Nothing happened at first.
Then… a soft flicker.
Blue. Then silver. Then… golden light exploded from the orb, blinding everyone. Ancient runes began spinning inside the crystal—runes never seen before in Frostcloud.
The elders all stood up, eyes wide.
"T-This… what is this light?"
"Impossible! He has no spiritual roots!"
Long Yuan's voice trembled. "That's… the signature of a Heavenly Root Physique…"
The courtyard went silent.
Every single disciple looked at Long Feng like they were seeing a god descend.
Long Wu's smirk cracked. "N-No… you're lying! This orb must be broken!"
Long Feng slowly removed his hand.
"I suppose this proves," he said with a faint smile, "I'm not trash anymore."
"No! It's fake!" Long Wu shouted, stepping onto the platform. "I challenge you to a duel, right now! Let's see who's really strong!"
The crowd gasped.
"He's trying to crush him publicly…"
"But Long Feng has no cultivation yet!"
"This is too much!"
Long Feng didn't even blink. He stepped onto the stage.
"I accept. But remember, you wanted this."
The referee—a clan elder—hesitated. "This is dangerous. You sure you want to—?"
BOOM!
Before the elder could finish, Long Wu launched himself forward, his foot igniting with Qi.
"Eat dirt, trash!" he roared, his leg flying toward Long Feng's face.
But Long Feng didn't dodge.
He caught the kick with one hand.
The crowd screamed.
CRACK!
Long Wu's face twisted in pain. "Y-You…!"
Long Feng's expression turned cold. "You like using your foot to step on people? Try using your face instead."
He twisted and slammed Long Wu into the ground.
BOOM!
The stage cracked. Dust flew.
Everyone stood in shock.
Long Wu groaned, blood dripping from his mouth. "How… how can you—?"
"You rely on shallow cultivation," Long Feng said calmly. "But I've lived a thousand lifetimes on the battlefield. Power is meaningless without spirit."
He raised his hand.
"W-Wait! I surrender!"
Too late.
SLAP!
The sound echoed across the entire manor.
Long Wu's body rolled across the platform like a sack of rice.
Gasps. Silence.
Then… cheers erupted.
"Long Feng!"
"He really did it!"
"He defeated Long Wu with no cultivation!"
The elders looked at each other, unable to speak.
Long Yuan's face was pale. "This… can't be…"
Long Feng dusted off his hands and turned to the crowd.
"I am Long Feng. You called me trash… now watch closely, because this is the beginning."