The Floor of Cloud City breathed hardship.
It was a vast sprawl of stone streets and crowded districts, where warriors trained until their hands cracked and cultivators scraped together spirit stones just to survive another month. Inns were cheap, weapons were worn, and desperation lingered in every glance.
Here, dreams were heavy.
Most of those who lived on the Floor shared the same hope: the Great Tower.
It loomed over the city like a silent judge, its shadow stretching across entire districts. For many, it was the only wayაჟ upward—out of debt, out of obscurity, out of this endless struggle.
Yet hope alone was not enough.
They were not strong enough.
Lin Xue walked through the streets, observing without judgment. She saw fighters nursing injuries, cultivators arguing over spirit loans, and mercenaries boasting about victories that meant nothing beyond these walls.
This was the foundation of Cloud City.
And it was built on ambition.
Soon, the Great Tower filled her vision completely. At its base, the stone was polished smooth by countless footsteps, etched with runes meant to suppress killing intent and stabilize the arena above.
She stepped inside.
The interior was vast, circular, and filled with the low murmur of voices. Registration desks lined the walls, each overseen by officials bearing the Tower's insignia.
Lin Xue approached one without hesitation.
"I am here to enter the tournament."
The official glanced at her, recorded her name, and nodded.
"The next tournament begins in three days."
Three days.
That was enough.
As she left the desk, Lin Xue began organizing her thoughts.
The rules of the Great Tower were simple, yet absolute.
No killing was permitted.
Leaving the arena meant defeat.
Unconsciousness meant defeat.
She repeated them in her mind.
Her strategy formed quickly.
She would not play defensively. She would not exhaust herself chasing perfect technique. Lin Xue was not subtle—and she had no intention of pretending otherwise.
She would fight until her opponent could no longer stand.
Overpower them.
Break their rhythm.
Learn from every clash.
Destruction was not a flaw in her path. It was a truth she accepted.
As she moved toward the listing board, her gaze sharpened.
Names filled the stone slab, glowing faintly with spiritual light.
Then—
She stopped.
Her eyes narrowed.
Zhao Ming.
That alone was unexpected.
But below it—
Zhao Yuan.
The strongest prodigy of the Zhao Sect. Ranked thirteenth among all rising cultivators.
And further down—
Pin Sujin.
The Rock Palm. Ranked fifteenth.
Lin Xue exhaled slowly.
This was not an ordinary tournament.
This was a convergence.
Her grip tightened.
This would be difficult. Dangerous, even.
But then the thought settled in her mind, sharp and incredulous.
…What in the world is Zhao Ming doing here?