A few days drifted by in relative tranquility. The chaotic aftermath of the preliminary rounds had settled into a quiet, simmering tension as the Top 50 students prepared for the brutal final brackets.
The expected political backlash from Su or any factions regarding Yoriichi's terrifying, unseen attack never materialized. The academy's strict rules regarding tournament injuries held firm, and more importantly, the sheer, unexplainable nature of the attack had instilled a profound sense of caution in even the most arrogant students. The "Demon Swordsman" had proven that even stripped of his physical vitality, he remained a lethal anomaly.
During these quiet days, Yoriichi received brief, respectful visits from Elder Kun, checking on his recovering meridians, and a short, highly amusing visit from Elder Long. The eccentric grandmaster barged into the courtyard checking his health, then spent the next hour lecturing Yoriichi on the intricate theories of imbuing spiritual essence and establishing energy models within weapons to reduce internal Dou Qi consumption, to which Yoriichi listened quietly, absorbing the knowledge, before the Elder stormed off back to his forge. Even Zhan Yue had stopped by briefly, bringing a basket of spiritual fruits and an unspoken, proud acknowledgement of his victory.
Now, sitting alone in his quiet courtyard bedroom, Yoriichi was lost in deep contemplation.
He sat cross-legged on his bed, the afternoon sun casting long, rectangular shadows across the wooden floorboards. He held his right hand up, staring intently at his open palm.
'The Soul Strike,' Yoriichi mused, turning his hand over slowly. 'It is a fascinating, yet highly volatile execution.'
He replayed the exact moment of impact against the burly 6-Star Dou Shi, Su.
When he had struck the Rank 4 Trench Phantom Octopus in the abyssal darkness, the sheer density of the beast's spiritual essence had resulted in a visible, ghostly silhouette being knocked out of its physical body. However, against Su, there had been no such visual manifestation.
'The others on the judging platform assumed it was an illusion technique, or perhaps a highly localized poison,' Yoriichi analyzed. 'But it was neither. It was a direct, concussive blow to the consciousness itself. A physical vessel can be trained to absorb forceful impacts, but a mind unprepared for a spiritual strike simply shuts down.'
He lowered his hand, his expression turning slightly grim.
'I cannot rely on it again in the final rounds,' Yoriichi decided pragmatically. 'It requires a massive, instantaneous expenditure of my Soul Power. If my opponent possesses a robust mental defense, or an artifact that shields the soul, the strike will fail, leaving my own consciousness vulnerable to a terrifying backlash. Furthermore, the element of surprise is entirely gone. Any competent fighter in the Top 50 will immediately shield themselves or maintain distance if I attempt an unarmed palm strike.'
He needed his blade. He needed the physical, undeniable reality of his katana.
Yoriichi closed his eyes, turning his vision inward. The grueling physical toll of his starvation in the Riverlands was finally beginning to fade. Thanks to the Tier-2 Meridian Soothing Pill from Elder Kun, combined with the ambient worldly energy he aggressively cultivated over the past few days, his internal injuries were almost halfway healed.
The milky-white liquid Dou Qi within his Dantian was no longer stagnant. It swirled with a robust, heavy vitality, the crimson and azure sparks dancing flawlessly within the compressed pool.
He felt the familiar, throbbing pressure against the walls of his Dantian. The extreme life-or-death struggle he had experienced against the terrifying aquatic beast, followed by the intense pressure of the tournament ring, had fundamentally expanded his capacity.
He had broken through to the 4-Star Dou Shi realm.
'The progression is incredibly smooth,' Yoriichi noted, feeling the heavy, liquid energy coursing through his reinforced meridians. 'In fact, the accumulation is so high that I can clearly sense the threshold of the 5-Star realm. I merely require a specific catalyst—a moment of profound martial friction—to breach it.'
Satisfied with his physical state, Yoriichi's mind drifted back to his newfound spiritual attack.
'A technique forged in the abyss must have a name,' he thought, his ancient soul reflecting on the philosophies of his past. The strike was about extinguishing the flame of consciousness, severing the mind from the body without drawing a single drop of physical blood.
'Nirvana Palm,' Yoriichi decided, the name resonating with a quiet, absolute finality.
It was a fitting title. However, he knew his understanding of it was incredibly crude. He was simply throwing raw Soul Power like a blunt rock. He desperately needed a specialized Soul Technique manual to refine it, to learn how to mold the spiritual energy into a needle rather than a hammer.
'But Soul Techniques are virtually non-existent on this continent,' Yoriichi sighed internally. 'I cannot simply observe a peer and copy it, because no one else uses them. My only hope lies in the ancient archives. If a true Soul Skill exists anywhere within a thousand miles, it will be inside the Hidden Library Pavilion.'
Securing a Top 5 position was no longer just a tactical advantage; it was an absolute necessity for his continued evolution.
With his path clearly defined, Yoriichi stood up and walked over to his heavy ironwood chest. He unlocked it and carefully pulled out the ancient, blackened scroll he had retrieved from the Xiao Clan pavilion—the Battle Through the Heavens elemental manual.
He unrolled the heavy parchment on his small wooden desk.
He had already achieved a profound, fundamental mastery over the Water element theories, successfully integrating the extreme Yin of the Mystic Aqua Spirit Ginseng into his extreme Yang foundation. It was time to push further.
He traced his calloused finger down the ancient, faded text, moving past the water section and stopping at the next major elemental division.
Earth.
As Yoriichi began to read the complex, paradoxical sentences describing the Earth element, a faint flicker of genuine surprise crossed his stoic features.
'The Earth is unyielding. It absorbs, it endures, and when it strikes, it carries the weight of a mountain.'
The theories detailed in the scroll—the absolute focus on defensive stability, grounding impacts, and unleashing heavy, crushing counter-attacks—were startlingly familiar. They perfectly echoed the core philosophies of a breathing style from his past life.
'Stone Breathing,' Yoriichi realized, the memory of the massive, blind Hashira, Gyomei Himejima, surfacing in his mind. 'A style dedicated to absolute, unbreakable defense and devastating, blunt-force trauma.'
But the realization brought a new, complicated problem.
'How do I synthesize the Earth element into my Dantian?' Yoriichi pondered, his brow furrowing slightly. 'For Water, I utilized an extreme oceanic treasure. Do I need to bury myself underground and meditate for months? Do I need to consume a high-tier Earth attribute beast core? Or do I require another life-or-death battle in a subterranean environment?'
He looked at the scroll, then at the setting sun outside his window.
'This is not the time for such profound, dangerous experimentation,' Yoriichi decided, pragmatically rolling the scroll back up. 'There are only three days left before the final bracket begins. Attempting to force a third element into my liquid Dou Qi now could destabilize my newly formed 4-Star foundation. I must focus entirely on physical recovery and mental preparation.'
He locked the scroll away, feeling a strange sense of anticipation. The Earth element would have to wait, but the prospect of eventually wielding the weight of a mountain alongside the heat of the sun and the flow of the ocean was a terrifying, beautiful thought.
Yoriichi stepped out onto the balcony of his room, leaning against the wooden railing. The evening air was cool and crisp, carrying the faint scent of blooming plum blossoms from the academy gardens.
He looked out across the sprawling courtyard.
In the distance, near the edge of the manicured lawn, Xiao Yu was practicing.
She wasn't using her whip today. She was moving through a series of complex, fluid stances, her movements leaving faint, frosty afterimages in the twilight air. Her silver hair, tinged with pink, flowed gracefully with her strikes.
Yoriichi's Transparent World vision passively analyzed her aura. The liquid Dou Qi within her Dantian was incredibly thick, swirling with a calm, absolute power.
'She has fully stabilized in the Top 7 bracket of her own potential,' Yoriichi noted with immense pride. 'Given the density of her primordial-like ice, she can easily defeat any mid Da Dou Shi and even fight one with the limit of her realm. The erratic, dangerous pressure of that mysterious bloodline is completely regulated right now.'
However, the lingering mystery of why she possessed that bloodline still gnawed at the edges of his mind. He needed to write that letter to the First Elder soon.
Xiao Yu finished her sequence with a sharp, freezing exhalation that crystallized the moisture in the air into a shower of tiny, glittering snowflakes. She lowered her arms, her breathing perfectly steady.
She looked up and spotted Yoriichi watching her from the balcony. A bright, genuine smile broke across her face. She waved happily, then gestured toward the small outdoor kitchen.
"I brought food!" she called out, her voice clear and melodic.
Half an hour later, the siblings were sitting across from each other in Yoriichi's room, a small wooden table between them. Xiao Yu had brought a spread of delicate, steamed spiritual dumplings and a pot of high-grade jasmine tea she had procured from the inner markets.
"These are significantly better than the standard cafeteria rations," Yoriichi commented mildly, expertly picking up a dumpling with his chopsticks.
Xiao Yu beamed, pouring him a fresh cup of tea. "Right? I found a little merchant stall near the Alchemy department. They infuse the dough with a tiny amount of Tier-1 vitality herbs. It's perfect for recovery."
She took a sip of her own tea, her pink-red eyes studying his face carefully. The gaunt, hollowed-out look from his time in the Riverlands was almost entirely gone. His cheeks had filled out, and the healthy, pale color had returned to his skin.
"How are you feeling, Ning'er?" Xiao Yu asked, her tone shifting from cheerful to softly serious. "Are you really ready for the finals? You don't have to push yourself. We already secured our spots in the Inner Academy."
"I am operating at optimal capacity," Yoriichi reassured her smoothly. "The Top 5 is a necessity, not a vanity. The resources hidden within that pavilion are crucial for the next stage of our cultivation."
"Always aiming for the absolute peak," Xiao Yu chuckled softly, shaking her head. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you."
She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. "Did you see the final bracket postings today?"
Yoriichi paused, his chopsticks hovering over his plate. "I did not. I was occupied with my studies."
"It's going to be brutal," Xiao Yu warned, a spark of competitive excitement in her eyes. "The competition for the top 5 positions is terrifying this year. Those spots are dominated by those students of Outer Academy ranking with much higher cultivation bases—most are sitting between the 5-Star and 7-Star Da Dou Shi realms, and there are rumors of one even reaching 8-Star."
She paused, a slight frown touching her lips as she considered her own chances. "It will be a little difficult to face them, even for me with my new foundation. But I think I can manage it, hopefully, if I use absolutely everything I have."
Yoriichi calmly placed the dumpling into his mouth, chewing slowly.
"You will surely succeed," Yoriichi stated neutrally, taking a sip of his tea. "Furthermore, those sitting at the absolute peak often suffer from the blindness of their own power. If they display even a little arrogance, I can maybe take them by surprise."
The absolute, unshakeable confidence in his voice made Xiao Yu smile again. She knew better than anyone that when her brother spoke so calmly about a threat, it wasn't a boast; it was a simple, objective statement of fact.
The rest of the evening passed in comfortable, mundane conversation. They discussed the quirks of their various instructors, the layout of the Inner Academy they would soon be entering, and the quiet peace of their courtyard.
For a few brief hours, the heavy burdens of cultivation, mysterious bloodlines, and brutal tournaments were pushed aside, leaving only the warm, unbreakable bond of family in the quiet eve before the storm.