Alex felt the surge of power settle deep within him as he broke through to the first stage of Foundation Establishment.


    The metal element coursed through his meridians like liquid steel, sharp and unyielding, born from the long hours of enlightenment.


    The knowledge had flooded him, reshaping everything he thought he knew aboutbat and cultivation.


    He opened his eyes and scanned the za.


    Dozens of outer disciples stared at him in open-mouthed awe, their faces frozen between disbelief and reverence.


    But Alex had no time for their stares. He did not care what they thought of him.


    Without a word, he flicked his wrist and hurled the white sword skyward. It spun once, then hung motionless in the air, humming with quiet power.


    In one fluid motion he leaped,nding lightly on its t de.


    "Go," he said.


    The sword shot forward like an arrow released from a bow, carrying him high above the peaks in a streak of white light.


    Gasps rippled through the crowd. Shock turned to frenzy. A handful of elders exchanged quick nces, then flung their own swords into the air and gave chase.


    Most of the outer disciples could only stand rooted to the ground, eyes wide, mouths moving in silent questions.


    "What... what is happening?" one finally whispered.


    No one answered. No one knew.


    Three elders pushed their qi to the limit, faces tight with effort, yet they still fell farther and farther behind. They had never imagined a Foundation Establishment cultivator could make a flying sword move with such blistering speed.


    The wind howled past them as they strained, refusing to give up, but Alex''s de was already a distant white speck racing toward the next mountain''s peak.


    By the time the elders caught sight of their destination, they had arrived at Heavenly Fist Peak.


    Ten of themnded in a rush of robes and swirling dust, drawing startled cries from the disciples gathered in the za.


    The young men and women dropped into hurried bows, hearts hammering.


    "Where is the disciple who just arrived?" one elder demanded, voice sharp with urgency.


    A disciple lifted his head, voice trembling. "He... he went straight to the Heavenly Fist test stone, Elder."


    The wordsnded like a thunderp. The elders froze.


    "The fist test?" another elder blurted. "Does that boy even know how to throw a punch?"


    They stared at one another, utterly stunned.


    They waited in tense silence, eyes fixed on the glowing ranking stone at the center of the za.


    At first nothing changed. Then, slowly at first and then with startling speed, the name Jun Jiu began to climb the list.


    Higher. Higher. Each new position came faster than thest.


    The elders watched in growing disbelief. Their confusion deepened with every rank the name gained.


    "How is this possible?" one muttered. “Does this man truly understand fist techniques?"


    Inside the test chamber, the world felt strangely familiar to Alex. The stone arena mirrored the sword trial exactly, except there were no des this time-only fists and kicks, raw and unadorned.


    Opponents materialized from light, striking with precise, brutal forms. Alex moved without hesitation.


    Gaia had already recorded every motion, every shift of weight, every angle of attack, feeding the data straight into his mind.


    He had realigned his understanding of fist work during the sword enlightenment, and now the knowledge flowed through him like second nature.


    It was easier than the sword trial. Much easier.


    He struck, dodged, countered-each movement clean, economical, and devastating.


    The test stone drank in his performance, and outside, the name Jun Jiu kept rising, unstoppable.


    Alex condensed his newly formed Foundation Establishment core in a single, deliberate breath and sealed it deep within his dantian. The power folded in on itself, vanishingpletely.


    In an instant, his aura dropped back to Greater Qi Condensation, smooth and unremarkable.


    He wanted it this way. Only when he had mastered all five elements would he allow his true foundation to shine.


    Anything less felt iplete, unfinished-like leaving a de half-forged.


    For the next few days, he lived inside the fist trial without pause. Strike after strike, the stone arena tested him relentlessly.


    On the morning of the fourth day, his name on the ranking stele climbed to second ce. Momentster, it surged into the final stage of first rank.


    He stepped through the shimmering barrier and found himself in a vast inner chamber. All around him, phantom figures of ancient masters moved in perfect loops.


    Shaolin disciples flowed through iron-hard forms, their fists cracking the air like thunder.


    Nearby, beggars from the Beggar Sect demonstrated the legendary Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms-each palm strike rippling with dragon-like force—and the wild, unpredictable Drunken Fist that turned drunken stumbling into lethal grace. Alex watched, heart pounding with quiet awe.


    This was it. Wudang had hidden the deepest secrets of the entire martial world here, locked behind every test.


    Every sect, every n, every lost technique waited for someone strong enough to im them. For Alex, it felt like stumbling into a treasure vault built just for him.


    A once-in-a-lifetime chance to devour knowledge no outsider had ever touched.


    Even better was the way the test stone itself rewarded him.


    Every time his rank rose, warm currents of pure inner energy poured into his body. Fatigue melted away.


    His qi surged stronger than before, as though he had swallowed a priceless elixir. The stone did not merely judge him-it fed him, pushed him, urged him onward.


    When his name finally locked into first ce on the Heavenly Fist ranking, the earth element answered.


    Power erupted through his meridians, heavy and immovable as ancient stone. His second Foundation Establishment wasplete.


    "Good," Alex whispered, then threw his head back andughed deep, raw, triumphant. "Very good."


    Thirteen peaks stood across Wudang Mountain.


    The old man who ruled this ce had built something extraordinary, something that


    could reshape an entire era if anyone proved worthy enough to im it all.


    He truly dared to smuggle the Nine Great Sects and Five Powerful ns'' most guarded arts into the trials behind each first-rank barrier


    Outside in the za, the crowd had swollen again. Disciples pressed shoulder to shoulder, voices buzzing with disbelief.


    "So Jun Jiu really charged straight to Heavenly Fist Peak and took the test," someone said. "And now he''s sitting at first rank again."


    "Is he even human?"


    "Does the guy have a limit?"


    The words had barely left their lips when the massive test stone red white-hot. A sudden gale whipped across the za, tugging at robes and scattering dust. Every head snapped toward the light.


    From the heart of the glowing stone,


    an image burst into


    P.ne


    existence thousands of phantom fists streaking through the air in perfe unison The vision rolled outward like a storm, majestic and overwhelming.


    A group of Heavenly Fist elders stood frozen, faces pale with shock.


    "That''s impossible," one elder breathed, voice hoarse. "That is the lost Wudang Thousand Fists... a technique that vanished a thousand years ago."


    "What?" one of the elders stammered, his voice cracking with disbelief. “Did Jun Jiu just master every lost martial art of Wudang?"


    The vision of a thousand phantom fists exploded outward from the test stone, filling the sky with blurring strikes. A violent gust of wind mmed across the za like a physical blow.


    Several outer disciples cried out and tumbled backward, knocked clean off their feet by the raw pressure.


    One elder stared at the disy, blood draining from his face. He knew that if he ever faced someone who could unleash that technique, he would be utterly helpless-struck a thousand times before he could even raise a hand in defense.


    When Alex finally stepped out of the Heavenly Fist test chamber, the entire za had fallen into a stunned silence.


    Elders and disciples alike stood frozen, mouths hanging open, eyes wide with shock, as if they were staring at a living legend that had just walked out of myth. "Looks like they don''t have anything better to do," Alex muttered with a small nod.


    He assumed their frozen stares came from nothing more than too much free time on their hands.


    Without wasting another second, he flicked his white sword into the air.


    The de spun once, then hovered steady above him. He leaped lightly onto its t


    surface and shot forward in a streak of white light, racing toward the next distant


    peak.


    Every elder''s face turned deathly pale.


    "Is he heading to the other peaks?" one whispered.


    "You don''t think..." another began, horror creeping into his voice. "Is he really


    nning to take first ce on every single one?"


    The more they considered it, the deeper their shock became. A ripple of disbelief


    spread through the crowd like wildfire.


    And that was exactly what Jun Jiu did.


    Over the next two months, Alex moved like a storm across Wudang Mountain.


    He stormed Mystic Staff Peak and absorbed every secret of staff and spearbat.


    He conquered Divine Saber Peak, mastering the ruthless grace of every saber technique.


    At Eight Trigram Array Peak, he unraveled the hidden knowledge of formations, arrays, talismans, seals, barriers, and battlefield strategy.


    He swept through all thirteen peaks without rest, iming cksmithing, body refinement, hidden weapons, movement arts, and every legendary Murim art the mountain guarded. He devoured them all.


    The greatest shock came when he entered the final peak-one almost no one ever visited. It was Wudang''s Art Peak, a quiet sanctuary dedicated to the refined arts. literature, poetry, calligraphy the game of Go, singing, painting, dance, and every elegant cultural pursuit


    the ancient sect preserved.


    Even here, Alex pushed forward with the same relentless focus. When he finished,


    he stood at first rank in every discipline.


    When Jun Jiu finally stopped, he had achieved something no one in the long history


    of Wudang had ever done.


    He was now known across the entire mountain as Wudang Number One.


    At that moment, the sect leaders gathered with solemn expressions. After long, quiet discussion, they reached their decision.


    "It is time,” the Sect Master dered. “I must take this extraordinary young man as a


    direct disciple."


    Meanwhile, Alex stood alone on a quiet cliff edge, gazing out over the vast, mist- covered mountains. A cold, determined smile touched his lips.


    "This is the perfect time," he thought. "Time for me to leave Wudang."