Ignoring the burning agony in his malnourished muscles, Yoriichi swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His bare feet touched the cool stone floor. As he pushed himself up to stand, a wave of intense dizziness washed over him, and his knees trembled violently. Gravity felt as though it had multiplied by ten.
"Stop this instantly!" Elder Kun sternly commanded, rushing forward to grab Yoriichi's shoulders, trying to force him back down onto the mattress. "I know youths are hot-blooded, but Xiao Ning, do not be rash! You need at least a month of bed rest to recover your body internally!"
Yoriichi stood firm, refusing to bend, his breathing ragged but steady.
"There are micro-fractures in your ribs! Your internal organs are still recovering from extreme thermal shock!" Elder Kun continued, his voice rising in genuine panic. "Anything fatal can happen if you go on! Your meridians are severely affected; they are as fragile as glass. If you try to channel your Dou Qi right now, they will tear! Forget going to the tournament, you cannot even fight a normal, powerless person in this state!"
Yoriichi paused.
He stopped trying to pull away from the elder. He stood still in the center of the room, closing his eyes, deeply contemplating the medical reality presented to him.
Elder Kun was completely correct. His physical vessel was currently a shattered ruin. If he tried to swing a sword with his usual kinetic force, his arms would snap. If he tried to channel his Dou Qi to perform a technique, his fragile meridians would likely rupture, permanently crippling him. From a purely biological and Dou Qi perspective, he was utterly defenseless.
After a full minute of suffocating silence, Yoriichi opened his crimson eyes. They were completely devoid of panic, reflecting an ocean of absolute tranquility.
"Elder," Yoriichi spoke, his tone polite and deeply respectful. "I am profoundly grateful for your suggestion and your worriness over my well-being. You are a true healer."
He gently, but firmly, removed Elder Kun's hands from his shoulders.
"But I cannot wait for another year," Yoriichi continued, grabbing a clean set of dark training robes resting on a nearby chair and slowly pulling them over his bandages. "I have certain matters and heights I must reach. This tournament is the chance. I will not let it slip away."
"You are throwing your life away!" Elder Kun pleaded, waving his hands frantically. "How do you intend to fight with this measly Dou Qi or any physical strength?!"
"I can handle my fight," Yoriichi replied simply, tying his sash.
He looked down at his own open palm. He thought back to the freezing, pitch-black depths of the Riverlands. He remembered the Rank 4 Trench Phantom Octopus, and the terrifying, desperate moment his willpower had physically manifested.
"I can try that strike also," Yoriichi muttered softly to himself, a faint, confident spark igniting in his eyes.
Elder Kun, hearing the sheer, immovable resolve in the boy's voice, got incredibly nervous. He wrung his hands together, pacing back and forth. He tried to open his mouth to persuade the youth again, to cite academy regulations or medical authority, but looking into Yoriichi's eyes, he knew it was utterly pointless. The boy possessed the stubbornness of a mountain.
The elder suddenly thought of the terrifying, silver-robed Dou Huang who visited this room daily, and the soot-covered Grandmaster Long who had threatened to burn the pavilion down if the boy didn't recover perfectly.
Elder Kun shivered slightly, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.
"If I let you walk out of here alone, and you collapse and die in the middle of the street..." Elder Kun groaned, rubbing his temples in defeat. "...they will really take my head. Head Zhan will freeze me, and Elder Long will forge my skull into a teapot!"
Elder Kun sighed, an exaggerated sound of absolute surrender. "Fine. Okay. Then I am accompanying you. I will stand right at the edge of the arena with my medical kit. The absolute second you look like you are going to pass out, I am throwing in the towel for you. Understand?"
Yoriichi offered a slight, respectful bow. "I accept your terms, Elder Kun. Let us go."
Together, the battered swordsman and the nervous healer stepped out of the private chamber and exited the Healing Pavilion.
As they walked down the wide, paved avenues of the central academic sector, Yoriichi immediately noticed the eerie silence. The usually bustling commercial districts, the sprawling outdoor training grounds, and the lecture halls were completely, utterly deserted.
"The path is relatively empty," Yoriichi noted, keeping his pace slow and measured to conserve his limited stamina.
"As expected," Elder Kun replied, walking closely beside him to offer support if he stumbled. "Everyone—students, instructors, and even the cafeteria staff—has gathered at the central big arena this time. The Inner Academy Qualifying Tournament is the most prestigious event of the year. No one wants to miss this yearly occasion, especially now that the final brackets have begun. The true monsters of the academy are clashing today."
They turned the final corner, the massive, towering stone walls of the Central Arena complex looming into view.
Even from hundreds of yards away, Yoriichi could hear it. It was a deafening, unified roar of thousands of voices. The chaotic, explosive sounds of high-tier Dou Skills colliding, the cracking of stone, and the thunderous, bubbling excitement and cheering of the massive crowd vibrated through the very ground beneath his bare feet.
The true crucible awaited. Yoriichi took a slow, steadying breath, his crimson eyes locking onto the arena gates, and stepped forward into the roar.