The morning sun filtered through the wooden shutters of the Northern Pavilion as Master Lian Shenlong gestured for Liu Chen to sit across from him. Today's lesson would be different from their usual discussions of Buddhist philosophy—today, they would speak of the grand spectacle that awaited them in the form of a tournament.
"Asura," Lian Shenlong began, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "before we depart for the tournament, you must understand what you will face. The Immortal Phoenix Sect Tournament is not merely a gathering of young cultivators—it is a convergence of the continent's most formidable powers."
Liu Chen leaned forward eagerly, his fighting spirit already stirring at the mention of worthy opponents.
"The tournament's history stretches back hundreds of millennia," the master continued, his voice taking on the cadence of an ancient storyteller. "When the first Emperor, Jiang Aijan, conquered the thirteen provinces of the Southern Continent and forged the Eternal Phoenix Empire, he desired a celebration worthy of his achievement. What better spectacle than to witness the clash of the realm's greatest young talents?"
Liu Chen's eyes widened as he absorbed this revelation. An empire spanning thirteen provinces, unified under a single ruler's might—the scale was almost incomprehensible.
"Emperor Jiang Aijan commanded all sects within his domain to send forth their most treasured disciples. The prize he offered was beyond mortal dreams—a Flood Grade Qi Pill, capable of directly advancing a cultivator's realm by an entire stage."
"An entire realm?" Liu Chen gasped. Even with his accelerated cultivation, the thought of such instantaneous advancement seemed miraculous.
Lian Shenlong nodded gravely. "The first victor was Yu Tianlou of the Heavenly Light Sect, a righteous path cultivator who practiced the Heavenly Daoist Mantra. His ability to replicate any opponent's technique made him virtually unbeatable. But what made him truly legendary was his rivalry with the older Emperor Jiang Aijan himself."
The master's voice dropped to an almost reverent whisper. "Both men were the first documented cultivators to reach the Void Returning Saint Realm—a height that grants nearly ten thousand years of longevity. They had been rivals since Yu Tianlou's childhood, pushing each other to ever-greater heights."
"Legend claims that both eventually transcended even that lofty realm, breaking through to the uncharted Heavenly Immortal Realm before withdrawing from the world entirely and living in seclusion."
Liu Chen felt his blood surge with excitement. His own ambitions, which had once seemed impossibly grand, now appeared modest by comparison.
"Master—" Liu Chen began, but Lian Shenlong raised a hand.
"Rest now, Asura. Tomorrow we descend into the city, and you will need your strength for what lies ahead."
As Liu Chen rose to leave, preparing to return to his quarters in the Western Pavilion, his master's voice stopped him.
"Ah, I nearly forgot. Yesterday, before you collapsed from exhaustion, I had retrieved your birthday gift."
Liu Chen felt heat rush to his cheeks, an awkward smile spreading across his face. In all the excitement of his breakthrough, he had completely forgotten about his tenth birthday celebration.
Lian Shenlong approached a black chest adorned with an intricate dragon insignia. Using his qi to manipulate the contents, he levitated eight gleaming items into the air—six golden gauntlets designed to cover from knuckles to forearms, and two golden ankle guards that extended halfway up the feet. The metal shimmered with an inner light, decorated with dragons and flames, while fine black and red silk was interwoven throughout the golden surface.
"These artifacts carry a tale of tragedy and triumph," Lian Shenlong explained. "Originally eight separate pieces of ordinary armor, they were divided among four treasure hunters who ventured into a dragon's lair. All four perished in their greed, and the dragon added their equipment to its hoard."
Liu Chen listened intently, mesmerized by the gleaming armor floating before him.
"Years later, a powerful cultivator slew the dragon with a single strike. As the beast died, its blood flowed onto the armor pieces beneath it, infusing them with draconic essence and elevating them to Flood Grade artifacts. Since then, they have been passed down through generations of Buddhist masters to their four most worthy disciples."
The master smiled warmly. "I believe these were destined for you, Asura. No previous wielder could don all eight pieces—they lacked your... unique advantage."
Liu Chen immediately dropped to his knees, kowtowing three times in profound gratitude. "This unworthy disciple is overwhelmed by Master's generosity!"
Lian Shenlong replied composedly, "It is no issue." as he continued to stroke his beard. Inwardly, however, his heart was telling a different story.
'Whew...I'm glad I could remember his birthday in time and find such relics hidden under my bed for a gift! This really must be Fate because what artifacts would be more perfect to bestow upon him than these.'
As he donned each piece, Liu Chen marveled at their perfect fit and elegant design that complemented his flame-patterned robes. The power thrumming through the artifacts made his qi circulation more efficient, his movements more fluid.
After bidding his master goodnight, Liu Chen retired to his quarters, dreams filled with visions of legendary battles and impossible heights of power.
The following morning at eight o'clock sharp, master and disciple began their descent of Enlightenment Peak. The mountain path that had once challenged Liu Chen's endurance now seemed like a gentle stroll, testament to his incredible growth.
"Master," Liu Chen ventured as they walked, "have you ever competed in the tournament yourself?"
Lian Shenlong's lips curved in a subtle smile. "Five consecutive victories, actually."
Liu Chen's jaw dropped so dramatically that a passing mountain bird might have mistaken it for a cave entrance. Once again, he found himself reevaluating his master's seemingly bottomless well of accomplishments.
"Five times?" Liu Chen squeaked, his voice cracking like a pubescent boy's. "In a row?"
"Indeed. Though that was many centuries ago, when I was but a young and impetuous monk much like yourself."
As they reached the base of the mountain and entered the bustling imperial streets of Tianlong City, Lian Shenlong announced their first destination with theatrical gravity.
"The Azure Hall government building awaits us, Asura."
"Government building?" Liu Chen's confusion was evident. "Master, why would we—"
Lian Shenlong's laughter rippled through the morning air. "Even enlightened monks must pay their taxes, my dear disciple. The earthly realm has its own demands, regardless of our spiritual pursuits."
Liu Chen blinked owlishly. Somehow, in all his cultivation fantasies, he had never imagined legendary masters dealing with tax collectors.
The city streets buzzed with morning activity as vendors hawked their wares with theatrical enthusiasm. The aroma of fried foods and exotic spices filled the air, making Liu Chen's stomach rumble audibly.
"Master, might this humble disciple treat us to some refreshment?" Liu Chen asked, producing the modest allowance he received at the temple.
Soon they were strolling through the marketplace, each holding a stick bearing gloriously crispy fried duck while sharing a perfectly ripe mango.
Citizens recognized their Buddhist attire and bowed respectfully as they passed, though Liu Chen noticed some curious glances at his unusual height combined with his baby-face, and the subtle bulk beneath his robes that hinted at a disproportionate body.
A young woman approached them with a warm smile, bowing gracefully. "Honored masters, may Buddha's blessings follow your path today."
"And may yours be filled with compassion and wisdom, benefactor," Lian Shenlong replied with equal courtesy.
This was all a performance to Lian Shenlong though, since he had long realized that the citizens only spoke blessings unto Buddha and recited his teachings to feel better about themselves at the end of the day, after they had committed some atrocious act.
As they prepared to continue their journey, three teenage boys dressed in the distinctive midnight-blue robes of the Midnight Dipper Academy swaggered past. The one in the center—a lanky youth with perfectly coiffed purple hair and a sneer that looked permanently etched onto his face—deliberately bumped into Lian Shenlong's shoulder.
"Watch where you're walking, old man," the boy snarled, his two companions flanking him like hunting dogs. One was short and stocky with beady eyes that darted nervously, while the other was tall and thin with a prominent nose that gave him the appearance of a suspicious crane.
"Amitabha," Lian Shenlong said peacefully, pressing his palms together. "This humble monk apologizes for any inconvenience, young benefactor."
As the master attempted to walk away, the arrogant youth's voice rang out again. "That's right, you bald donkey! Know your place and scurry along. Ancient relics like you shouldn't wander the streets without caretakers!"
Liu Chen felt his four hidden arms clench into fists beneath his robes. The familiar heat of anger began building in his chest as he turned to face the insulting youth.
"Repeat yourself," Liu Chen said quietly, his voice carrying an undertone that made nearby pigeons suddenly find urgent business elsewhere.
One of the stocky lackeys beside the lanky youth puffed out his chest importantly. "Do you know who you're addressing? You're courting death! This is Zhu Sheng, tenth inner disciple of the Midnight Dipper Academy—one of the strongest Confucian sects in Jiang Province!"
The crane-nosed boy on the other side nodded vigorously. "That's right! The Midnight Dipper Academy commands respect throughout the empire! You mountain hermits should—"
Liu Chen's expression shifted to one of complete bewilderment. His mouth opened slightly, his eyes widened, and for a moment he looked like a man trying to comprehend why fish were suddenly raining from the sky.
'These people cannot be serious,' he thought to himself. Are they actually threatening us for bumping into him? And did he just say courting death? This has to be some type of joke.'
Mistaking his dumbfounded expression for awe, the three Academy students began to sneer with increased arrogance.
"That's right, mountain boy," Zhu Sheng taunted. "Now you understand the gap between us. Perhaps if you kowtow and apologize, we might forgive such behaviors. Actually, I won't!"
"Your mother must have dropped you on your head repeatedly as a child to produce such igno-"
Zhu Sheng never finished his insult. Liu Chen's fist connected with his face with the sound of a small thunderclap, launching the arrogant youth through the air in a perfect arc before he crashed into a fruit vendor's stall in an explosion of melons and startled squawks.
The entire street fell silent. Every eye turned to Liu Chen, who stood with his fist still extended, looking mildly surprised at his own restraint—he had held back considerably to avoid accidentally killing the fool.
Master Lian Shenlong sighed deeply, placing his palm against his forehead with the weary expression of a teacher whose prize student had just set fire to the classroom. "Asura..."
The two remaining lackeys stared in shock at their leader, who was now wearing a watermelon as a hat while groaning weakly beneath a pile of mangoes. Their faces cycled through several shades of red before settling on a particularly violent crimson.
"You dare!" they screamed in unison, drawing matching swords from within their robes. Dark blue qi coated their blades as they attacked simultaneously—one high, one low—their movements creating afterimages in the morning air.
"Azure Dragon technique!" someone in the crowd shouted. "Those are the Midnight Dipper Academy's signature sword forms!"
Blue dragon heads manifested around their qi-infused blades as they closed in on Liu Chen from both angles. The attack was reasonably well-coordinated for Academy students, with timing that might have troubled a lesser opponent.
Liu Chen calmly tore away his outer monk robes.
The gasps from the crowd were audible from three blocks away. Six golden-gauntleted arms gleamed in the morning sunlight, each one clearly defined with inked muscle that spoke of incredible power. The sight was so unexpected that several onlookers forgot to breathe.
"Demon!" someone shrieked.
"No, wait—he's from a Buddhist sect," another voice corrected. "Demons can't practice righteous cultivation!"
"Then what is he?"
Liu Chen ignored the commentary entirely, focusing on the two attackers who had just called him a freak and told him to die. Such rudeness required correction.
With casual precision, he caught both sword strikes with two of his hands—one blade in each palm, the qi-formed dragon heads dissolving on contact. The two young men's minds went completely blank as they stared at their weapons, held motionless by what appeared to be gentle grips.
They exchanged a quick glance of mutual terror before looking back at Liu Chen, who was smiling with the patient expression of a teacher about to deliver a painful lesson.
With his remaining four hands, Liu Chen disarmed both attackers and delivered precise gut punches that folded them like poorly made paper fans. The entire sequence took less than three seconds, and both lackeys collapsed unconscious with identical expressions of bewildered pain.
"Incredible!" voices murmured from the crowd. "Such a strong young Budhhist ancestor!"
Those who had initially called him a demon began edging away slowly, hoping to avoid notice from someone who could obviously turn them into paste with minimal effort.
Liu Chen felt a surge of satisfaction at his efficient handling of the situation. He had shown restraint, used minimal force, and taught these arrogant youths a valuable lesson about—
A streak of blue sword qi shot toward his face with considerable speed and killing intent.
Liu Chen sidestepped reflexively, but the attack grazed his right cheek, drawing a thin line of blood. The strike had come from Zhu Sheng, who had extracted himself from the fruit vendor's stall and now sported a magnificent black eye along with various fruit stains across his once-pristine robes.
"Today will be your death day, freak!" Zhu Sheng snarled, raising his sword with qi crackling around the blade like angry lightning.
Liu Chen touched the small cut on his cheek, looked at the drop of blood on his finger, then smiled with genuine amusement. His own primal qi began to circulate, creating a subtle golden aura around his form.
"Bring it on," he said simply.
Lian Shenlong sighed even more deeply, wondering if there was a Buddhist sutra specifically designed for dealing with disciples who couldn't walk through a city without starting street fights.
The morning had certainly taken an interesting turn.