The annual competition's elimination rounds began with brutal efficiency. One hundred and twenty Outer Sect disciples entered; by noon, only forty remained, and the arena floor was slick with blood and discarded spirit weapons.

Meng Hao faced his second opponent — a scarred cultivator named Wang Tengfei who had been stuck at Qi Condensation Level Nine for two years and had made a career out of brutalizing weaker disciples. His spiritual pressure was dense and heavy, pressing down on Meng Hao's Foundation Establishment cultivation with the weight of someone who had spent a long time learning exactly how to hurt people.

'Foundation Establishment,' Wang Tengfei said, circling Meng Hao like a predator. 'But your foundation is cracked. I can see it — the spiritual energy leaks out the sides, doesn't it? You rushed your breakthrough. Bad decision.'

It was true. The three rushed attempts at Foundation Establishment had left Meng Hao's foundation functional but flawed — strong enough to pass through the realm barrier, but riddled with stress fractures that would need years of careful cultivation to heal.

'Maybe,' Meng Hao said. 'But a cracked sword can still cut.'

Wang Tengfei struck first. His technique was a variant of the Reliance Sect's Spirit Palm, but infused with years of combat experience — faster, sharper, aimed at Meng Hao's throat instead of his chest. A disabling strike, not a killing one, but only barely.

Meng Hao used the Hex of Binding.

The air in front of him compressed, forming a seal three inches from his palm that caught the spirit palm strike and held it frozen in place. Wang Tengfei's eyes widened — he had never seen a technique like this, had no reference for what it was or how to counter it.

'What — '

Meng Hao stepped into the space his Hex had opened, thrust his own palm strike through the gap, and struck Wang Tengfei square in the chest. The scarred cultivator flew off the platform and crashed into the audience barrier with a sound like a gong.

'Meng Hao wins,' the referee said, looking as confused as everyone else.

Meng Hao walked off the platform, cradling his injured hand — the Hex backlash had cracked two of his fingers. But he was still standing, and Wang Tengfei was not. That was more than he'd expected from this competition.

The mirror pulsed warmly in his robes. It felt like approval.