The Saiyan In The Cultivation World.

Well, with that, I won.

The air was oddly quiet, a heavy silence settling over the arena as if no one quite knew how to react. The devastation I'd unleashed and the ease with which I'd done it had left everyone too stunned to speak.

Still, the tournament went on. Formalities demanded it, even though the result felt inevitable. Everyone watching already knew who would emerge as the winner.

Everyone except one person.

Chu Feng.

As the finals began, he stepped onto the stage. His movements were steady, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but I saw it.

To everyone watching, it looked like Chu Feng was afraid—hesitant to face me, the overwhelming favorite. But I knew better.

It wasn't fear that flickered in his eyes—it was something else entirely.

If someone were to ask who the strongest person in the empire was right now, the answer would be simple: Lan Mei. She stood at the pinnacle, unmatched in power.

Following her? That would be me. And after me? The person standing in front of me now: Chu Feng.

And yet… at the same time, it wasn't him.

Something about the way he carried himself, the faint shift in his aura, told me there was more to him than what the crowd could see.

Chu Feng possessed an extraordinary understanding of the Way of the Sword—one that went far deeper than most could fathom. But what made him truly unique was his path.

He had shattered that profound understanding, breaking apart the foundations of his old Dao to rebuild something new, something stronger. It was a bold, almost reckless decision, yet one born from a determination to surpass his former self.

His current Dao wasn't strong. It was still in its infancy, incomplete and raw. But his past Dao? That was a different story.

The power of his former Dao had been heaven-shaking, so much so that it would have placed him as the third strongest person in this small world.

If he succeeded in forging this new path, he wouldn't just reclaim that power—he'd surpass it entirely.

But he hesitated, unsure if he should reveal his Dao to the world. It was still growing, still developing—fragile, in its own way. Too many eyes on him now could hinder its progress or draw unwanted attention.

For now, it was better to keep it hidden, like a blade sheathed in shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to be drawn.

To those watching, it might seem as though Chu Feng was holding back or hesitant. But the truth was simpler: he was guarding his sword, biding his time until the world was ready to see it in its full, perfected form.

As powerful as his Dao was, it was only strong enough to allow him to face those at level 10 Soul Refinement.

By any measure, that was an extraordinary feat, especially considering how young his Dao was. Barely a few years old, it had already elevated him to a level comparable to the 10th stage of Soul Refinement—a level of strength that was unheard of for such a newly-formed Dao in this small world.

Its potential was undeniable. Even in its infancy, his Dao stood as a testament to his talent, a flicker of the heaven-shaking power it would one day become.

A newly-formed Dao like his should have been weak—it was akin to cultivation for a human. A Dao begins at a strength equivalent to the Body Tempering Realm, and bit by bit, it evolves, growing stronger with time and refinement.

Of course, some Daos are inherently more powerful than others, even from the moment they are born. But in this small world, such exceptional Daos were exceedingly rare, almost unheard of.

That Chu Feng's young Dao had already reached the strength to rival the 9th stage of Soul Refinement was nothing short of extraordinary—a feat that defied the natural order of progression.

When a Dao is first born, it exists as a Dao Seed. This was the stage Chu Feng's Dao currently resided at—though it was already at the peak of the Dao Seed stage.

The progression of a Dao mirrored cultivation realms, each stage representing a significant leap in power and mastery. The stages were as follows:

Dao Seed: Equivalent to the Body Tempering Realm.

Elementary Dao: Equivalent to the Qi Refinement Realm.

Intermediate Dao: Equivalent to the Soul Refinement Realm.

Advanced Dao: Equivalent to the Foundation Establishment Realm.

Expert Dao: Equivalent to the Core Formation Realm.

Saint Dao: Equivalent to the Nascent Soul Realm.

To have a Dao Seed that was already equal to an Intermediate Dao? That was nothing short of incredible. It was a feat that defied expectations, showcasing the immense potential of Chu Feng's path.

As for me? I comprehended all the Daos up to the Saint Dao realm.

That was the limit in this small world, as anything beyond that was nearly impossible to grasp with the resources and understanding available here. Still, for the short amount of time I'd spent, it was more than enough.

"You're a genius," I said with a smile, my tone light yet carrying a weight that couldn't be ignored. "For someone as bright as yourself to be born in this small world—that's impressive."

Chu Feng's eyes narrowed, his gaze sharp as it bore into me. He didn't respond, but I could see the faint tension in his shoulders, the subtle flicker of unease in his expression. He didn't know why, but he felt exposed under my gaze, as though I could see through every layer of him.

And honestly? He might as well be.

My skill at reading people was unmatched, my instincts honed to perfection. Yet, for some reason, those same instincts faltered when it came to him. No matter how hard I focused, there was something unreadable about Chu Feng.

It wasn't the first time I'd encountered this. The only other exceptions were Lan Mei and that disfigured man. Whatever it was, it made Chu Feng an enigma—one I couldn't fully unravel.

Even so, my skills at reading people were unparalleled.

Every move Chu Feng made, every breath he took, the way he carried himself, and even the nuances of his combat style—each detail was a thread I could unravel.

Piece by piece, it all came together, allowing me to see what others couldn't. Through these subtle cues, I came to understand the essence of his Dao.

"I think your future is bright," I said with a smile, my tone almost casual. "Given the right opportunities, I can see it now—one day, when my overwhelming talent causes me to hit a bottleneck, one that might take hundreds of years to overcome… I can see you catching up then."

I tilted my head slightly, the smile widening. "And when that day comes, I think you might just be able to give me a good battle."

"You've got quite the foresight," Chu Feng said, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and exasperation. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry at my confidence.

I didn't bother replying, simply meeting his gaze with a calm smile as I waited for the round to begin.

The elder overseeing the match glanced between us, ensuring we were both ready. Satisfied, he raised his hand and then brought it down sharply.

"Begin!"

The instant the word left his mouth, Chu Feng sprang into action.

Without hesitation, he stepped forward, his body rocketing toward me at a blinding speed.

It was as if Chu Feng had transformed into a sword. He cut through the air with precision, his movements seamless and free of resistance. This wasn't just raw speed—it was a movement technique, one I recognized immediately: the Heavenly Sword Step.

I moved, rocketing toward Chu Feng, and our swords collided in a clash that shook the heavens. The sheer force of the impact sent shockwaves rippling through the arena, a testament to the stark contrast in our styles—my overwhelming power against Chu Feng's precise, controlled swordsmanship.

Chu Feng's sword sliced cleanly through my sword aura with surgical precision, its edge continuing forward and aiming straight for my head. In an instant, his blade connected, cutting cleanly through as if nothing could stop it.

Chu Feng's eyebrows tightened as his instincts flared. He hadn't allowed his sword to cut. With his level of mastery, even if he swung toward something as fragile as butter, if he didn't want his blade to cut, it wouldn't. Such was the precision and control he wielded over his weapon.

So why had his sword seemingly disobeyed him?

Something was off.