The following morning broke with a pale, cold light.

A burly, hulking figure stepped out of the market, casually tossed a flying artifact into the air, and shot toward the wilderness. He didn’t stop until he was dozens of miles away, deep within the uninhabited embrace of the forest.

The man looked like a nightmare woven from muscle and grit. His flesh was as coarse as a black bear’s hide, his skin tough as an iron ox. A thick, reddish-yellow unibrow dominated his forehead, shadowing eyes that were swimming in bloodshot veins.

He looked unkempt, savage, and utterly reckless—a classic brute.

This was Qin Lu.

Or rather, this was a meat-puppet sculpted by the Disguise Technique.

Now that the skill had reached the Grandmaster rank, Qin Lu no longer needed latex masks or makeup. He used spiritual energy to physically warp his own muscle fibers and bone structure. Height, weight, girth—he could shift them all at will. It was a marvelous, if slightly grotesque, convenience.

Today’s excursion had a singular purpose: stress-testing his combat arsenal.

For weeks, he had deliberately edged the proficiency of his Ignition Technique and Finger Flick Technique to the brink of leveling up, saving the breakthrough for a live field test.

He pulled up his internal interface.

[Ignition Technique] (Grandmaster): 2986/3000 [Finger Flick Technique] (Grandmaster): 2995/3000

“Time to see what lies beyond Grandmaster,” Qin Lu murmured, a flicker of anticipation in his eyes.

He raised his hand, curled his middle finger against his thumb, and snapped it toward the sky.

Thwip. Thwip. Thwip.

Soft pops rang out as compressed bullets of air shredded the canopy above, raining chopped leaves down like green confetti. At the eighth level of Qi Refining, these basic spells cost him almost nothing. By his calculations, he could fire off eighty rounds before feeling the drain.

Five snaps later, the interface shimmered.

[Finger Flick Technique] (Legend): 1/

“Legend…” Qin Lu read the new tier silently. “Novice, Proficient, Master, Grandmaster, and now Legend. I wonder if there’s a realm beyond even this?”

The proficiency bar was gone, replaced by a massive emptiness. He did the mental math. Even if the requirement was ten thousand points, at his current grinding speed—ignoring sword practice and talisman crafting—he could max it out in ten days.

“But first, the payload.”

Suppressing his excitement, Qin Lu leveled his finger at a massive ancient tree in the distance. Its trunk was thick enough that seven men linking arms could barely circle it.

He snapped.

BOOM!

There was no soft pop this time. An invisible lance of pressurized air erupted from his digit with the roar of a cannon.

The wind blast struck the tree’s center. It didn’t shatter the bark; it pierced it. Like a hot knife sliding through butter, the force punched a perfectly circular hole through the massive trunk, exiting the other side with terrifying clarity.

The giant tree shuddered violently, shedding its remaining leaves in a trembling heap.

Qin Lu stared at the smooth, transparent tunnel bored through the wood. “That… is sufficient.”

The Golden Light Talisman was widely considered the pinnacle of defense for the Qi Refining stage. Against this strike? It would crumple like wet paper.

“Wait.” Qin Lu frowned, lowering his hand. “I feel something else.”

The spell hadn’t just increased in power; its fundamental structure had shifted in his mind.

He raised his arm again, splaying all five fingers toward the forest. With a thought, he fired.

Pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft!

Five distinct distortions in the air screamed out simultaneously, scattering in a fan pattern.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Surrounding trees, boulders, and vines exploded into dust and splinters.

“I can shotgun it,” Qin Lu realized, his grin widening. “Five simultaneous casts. What if I condense it?”

He clenched his hand into a tight fist, turning sideways to aim at a sheer cliff face. Channeling his Qi, he threw a punch at the empty air.

A gale five times the size of the previous shots roared from his knuckles.

CRASH!

The invisible hammer slammed into the cliff, blasting out a deep crater and sending spiderweb cracks racing across the stone surface.

“Excellent.” Qin Lu nodded, satisfied. “I can snipe, I can suppress with a volley, or I can siege with a heavy cannon. The tactical flexibility has skyrocketed.”

After basking in the destruction for a moment, he switched to the Ignition Technique.

Flames flickered into existence around his fist, extinguishing and reigniting in a rapid rhythm. He ground out the repetitions, watching the fire shift from a standard orange-yellow to a deep, blood-soaked crimson. The ambient temperature spiked.

He looked at the dancing red flame. The upgrade was complete.

“Now, let’s see the size of a Grandmaster fireball.”

At Grandmaster rank, a full-power fireball was roughly fifteen feet in diameter. Grandmaster should be…

Qin Lu glanced around the dry autumn forest and grimaced. “Not here. I’ll start a wildfire.”

He engaged his movement technique, blurring through the woods until the sound of rushing water reached his ears. He emerged into a clearing dominated by a wide, scenic waterfall pool. Birds sang, flowers bloomed—it was idyllic.

Perfect for blowing things up.

Qin Lu stood at the water’s edge and channeled the Ignition Technique. The crimson flames roared to life, hungry and violent.

“Hah!”

He leaped into the air, winding up his arm and punching downward.

ROAR!

A miniature sun erupted from his fist.

It wasn’t a fireball; it was a falling star. The sphere of annihilation measured over thirty feet in diameter—the size of a four-story building—crashing down with apocalyptic weight.

BOOM—HISSS!

The fireball slammed into the center of the lake. Water didn’t just splash; it vaporized instantly, sending a column of superheated steam into the sky. A massive displacement wave surged outward, scouring the shoreline.

Fire fought water, hissing and popping as the crimson flames boiled the lake’s surface before finally succumbing to the depth.

Qin Lu landed on the damp shore, eyes wide. “That’s not a Fireball anymore. That needs a real name.”

He watched the steam clear.

“I’ll call it… Fire Emperor.”

After recovering his breath, he tested the spell against the cliff face. The explosion gouged a massive crater out of the solid rock, sending shrapnel flying for hundreds of yards. Inspecting the depth of the scar, his confidence solidified into certainty.

“With this firepower? The Arena Tournament is practically mine.”

He spent the next hour running through his other skills: Cutting Technique, Soft Wind, Spirit Shield, Heavenly Eye, Disguise, and Object Control.

Most hadn’t hit the Legend threshold yet, showing only incremental gains. However, two stood out.

Object Control at Grandmaster was terrifying. He could now lift nearly ten tons with his mind. In his old world terms, he could telekinetically juggle four or five SUVs or simply crush a person beneath a floating boulder. It felt properly ‘Immortal.’

The Disguise Technique, however, revealed a critical flaw.

If he expended more than eighty percent of his spiritual power—or exerted too much physical force in combat—the disguise would destabilize, revealing his true face.

“A pity,” Qin Lu mused, disappointed. He couldn’t fight at full throttle while undercover.

Shaking off the thought, he summoned his spirit boat and ascended toward the market.

He needed to go home and sleep. He needed to be in peak condition.

Because tomorrow, the Arena Tournament began.