Chapter Three: Threat

In the vast twilight, Deyuan's steady figure stood silently, saying nothing. His face was cold and shadowed, a faint chill lurking in his expression, and his gaze, sharp as a blade, fixed upon Su Yi as if it would pierce right through his chest. A murderous air swept out from him.

All around fell instantly silent.

A gust of cold wind suddenly swept past. Whether it was that unexpected wind or the chill radiating from Deyuan himself, the fallen leaves on the ground abruptly shuddered, then began to spiral into the air.

They tangled and swirled, making a loud, grating rustle—so much sharper and more jarring in the still, stern atmosphere.

Su Yi too sensed the oppressive chill. His muscles tensed, and his voice dropped as he asked, “What do you want?”

He knew well that Deyuan had always been at odds with him. In the past, because Su Yi's strength surpassed Deyuan's, he had taken the captaincy of the guards from him, and Deyuan had never accepted being led by someone much younger. Relying on his own abilities, Su Yi had never cared about Deyuan's resentment—after all, people respected power, not age.

Under Su Yi's strength, Deyuan had never dared step out of line—until Su Yi's core had been destroyed, making it impossible for him to become a Fighter. He had fallen overnight from a respected prodigy to a useless outcast.

Deyuan no longer feared him; indeed, he now looked down on him. After regaining the captaincy, he rarely even glanced Su Yi's way. Though he never mocked or insulted him as others did, Deyuan's disdain was sharper than any taunt. The former defeated now treated Su Yi as if he were beneath notice.

And now, on this deserted evening, Deyuan had deliberately blocked Su Yi's way home.

Clearly, good intentions were not to be expected; Su Yi, upon seeing him, offered no courtesy.

Seeing Su Yi's displeasure, Deyuan felt a surge of irritation. Did Su Yi think he was still the person he once was? Now he was nothing but a useless cripple—what right did he have to put on airs?

Deyuan's cold, scornful gaze made clear that even speaking to Su Yi was beneath him. His voice rang out, harsh and unyielding: "Stay away from Miss Meya from now on, you useless waste!"

Su Yi's face twitched, his fists clenching involuntarily. No matter how precocious or mature he was, being called "waste" to his face set his anger ablaze, burning so fiercely it was almost suffocating.

Grinding his teeth, icy sparks flickered deep in his pupils. At that moment, Su Yi wished he could rush forward and kick Deyuan in the face.

But he could not.

To fight would be to humiliate himself. No matter how much of a genius he was, in his current state he could not possibly gain the upper hand against Deyuan.

Deyuan clearly sensed Su Yi's anger—but he did not care at all. What if Su Yi was furious? Did he dare fight? Ridiculous! He, a dignified level-six Fighter, would hardly fear a cripple who wasn’t even a Fighter anymore! In the past, he might have been wary of Su Yi's chilling ice-elemental energy, but now, even if Su Yi struck with all his might, he would not be able to harm him.

Rather than worry, Deyuan felt a perverse thrill. Su Yi had always suppressed him, but now, even calling him "waste," he was untouchable. Seeing his former rival seethe with impotent fury filled Deyuan with a sense of superiority, lifting his mood unexpectedly.

Looking at Su Yi, whose anger was tinged with gloom, Deyuan gave an imperceptible smile and spoke with condescending authority: "Hmph, am I wrong? You aren’t even a Fighter anymore, yet you still expect respect? Though your cultivation speed was terrifying, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a waste!"

"I am not a waste!" Su Yi shouted suddenly, his eyes ablaze. "As long as I can form my core again—"

"Don’t delude yourself!" Deyuan cut him off mercilessly, sneering. "No one in history has ever regained their core once it was destroyed! You’ve already tried once—don’t you get it?"

At the reminder, Su Yi’s heart sank. Indeed, after recovering from the blow, he had tried to cultivate again, to form a new core—and the result had stunned everyone.

On the continent of Battle Qi, it was well known how difficult it was to cultivate the initial stages of Qi. Many people spent ten or even twenty years reaching the ninth stage. Typically, one would start cultivating at age four, and with talent, only reach ninth-stage Qi around fifteen. In other words, it took at least ten years for most to reach the ninth stage. Even Su Yi had never expected to reach ninth-stage in a short time; in two years, he had risen from fourth-level to tenth-level Fighter, thanks partly to his talent, partly to the fact that cultivation sped up dramatically after becoming a Fighter.

Progressing from fourth to tenth level in two years did not mean he could go from third- to ninth-stage Qi in two years. Since inhabiting this body, Su Yi had already been a Fighter, and his memory of the "previous owner" was vague; he had no real experience cultivating Qi before. Now, starting over at Qi cultivation, he felt far from confident.

Yet, when everyone thought his chances slim, Su Yi cultivated to ninth-stage Qi in just three months! The whole city was in an uproar. He had walked that path before, but this was nothing short of miraculous.

Once more, Su Yi was hailed as a genius.

He himself was overjoyed, thinking perhaps the body’s "experience memory" played a part. Meya had been so delighted she wanted to throw a banquet in his honor.

This showed how high Meya’s hopes were for him, and Su Yi resolved to become a Fighter again and reclaim what was his.

At this time, all the major powers in Changling City were watching: would this prodigy break the age-old fate and perform a miracle?

But fate was cruel. He failed at the final step.

Miracles were not so easily wrought. All those who had watched Su Yi’s terrifying progress with envy and resentment secretly breathed a sigh of relief at his failure, convinced once more that the destruction of the core could never be reversed.

Those who had kicked him when he was down certainly did not wish for his return; in fact, they were happy for him to remain a cripple forever.

The people of Changling City all talked: in the end, Su Yi was still a waste, unable to become a Fighter.

At the moment of his failure, Su Yi nearly broke. Was this path truly impossible?

He almost gave up on himself, but Meya did not. She continued to support and encourage him in silence. For the sake of Meya, who had once saved his life, Su Yi forced himself to go on, spending another two months to cultivate to sixth-stage Qi.

Thinking of this, Su Yi sighed bitterly. If heaven had no intention of helping him, why give him such astonishing talent?

Su Yi had always felt, deep down, that his talent was not just due to his powerful soul—there must be another reason, perhaps something that happened during his "death" three years ago.

Perhaps something miraculous had occurred then. In any case, a powerful soul and a fateful encounter were blessings any cultivator would long for, yet he possessed both and could not cultivate Battle Qi—what a cruel irony.

Deyuan looked coldly at the silent Su Yi and continued, "You'd best stay among the Qi cultivators and be their 'genius.' I’d better not see you with Miss Meya again, or else—hmph..." His threat was clear, and the pressure of a Fighter’s aura bore down on Su Yi.

Indeed, after tens of thousands of years of development, Battle Qi had reached its zenith on the continent; almost everyone cultivated Qi. Though becoming truly powerful was never easy, nearly everyone trained, and a "genius" like Su Yi, stuck at the basic level, was less than ordinary.

Although Su Yi had fallen, it did not mean he would suffer insults in silence. Hearing Deyuan's threat, he sneered, "Who I spend time with is none of your business!" As he spoke, he gathered all his Qi to withstand Deyuan’s oppressive force.

Deyuan’s face grew cold at Su Yi's defiance. In a frosty tone, he spat, "Don’t force me to use violence!"

"Oh? Can’t win with words, so you want to fight?" Su Yi’s eyes flashed with scorn and fury. The scene reminded him of the man from a year ago, who had threatened him just like this—and finally destroyed his core.

A blaze of anger shot from Su Yi’s eyes as he stared fiercely at Deyuan, as if he were that very man. Deyuan, seeing the look, felt a deeper chill. In a flash, he lunged forward, appearing before Su Yi in a few strides. His right fist swung fiercely, aiming straight for Su Yi’s face.

But Su Yi was ready. The instant Deyuan moved, he dodged aside, and Deyuan’s fist struck the thick tree trunk behind Su Yi with a thunderous crash, leaving a deep dent.

Deyuan, seasoned by battle, bent his knees the moment he hit the tree, planted both feet against the trunk, and kicked off with force. Using the recoil, he leapt into the air, spun his body, and with a howl of wind, swept his right leg viciously toward Su Yi!