The Supreme Eternal Prime God 1000X System From Beginning Chapter 30
– the calm before the storm
As the last rays of the setting sun stretched across Azure Dragon Academy, painting the towering pagodas and sprawling courtyards in deep hues of crimson and gold, a hushed stillness settled over the once-thunderous coliseum, the echoes of battle fading into the heavy quiet of anticipation, the weight of expectation pressing down upon the very air itself as the academy prepared for what was to come—the final battles of the Outer Court Selection Tournament, the last test that would determine which disciples would be granted the right to ascend into the Inner Court, the last stand for those who still clung to the fading illusion that they could stand on equal ground with the one name that now dominated every whispered conversation.
Xiao Lin.
And now, as he stood beneath the looming Tournament Stone Board, his golden-flecked gaze tracing the name of his next opponent—Huang Xue, the strategic genius, the elemental prodigy, the man who had long been considered the true rival of Zhan Kanzi, the one who believed himself capable of claiming the Outer Court throne—Xiao Lin felt nothing.
No anticipation.
No excitement.
No interest.
Because this was not a battle.
This was another formality.
Seated within the private training chambers reserved for the strongest competitors of the tournament, Huang Xue sat in quiet meditation, his breath slow, controlled, his Qi circulating through his body with careful precision, the elemental energies of fire, wind, and earth swirling faintly around him as he refined his control, his mind replaying every detail of Xiao Lin’s past matches, every technique he had displayed, every moment where his movements had seemed too precise, too effortless, too… unnatural.
Huang Xue was no fool.
He had fought too many battles, had seen too many talented warriors rise and fall, had studied the techniques of countless masters, had understood the nature of combat not just as a clash of power, but as a game of strategy, of adaptation, of control.
And he knew—better than anyone—that power alone was never enough.
That was why he had survived.
That was why he had climbed to the top of the Outer Court, despite never possessing the raw, monstrous strength of warriors like Meng Jinhai or Zhan Kanzi.
That was why, even now, as the academy whispered of Xiao Lin’s “unbeatable” presence, as disciples spoke of him as if he were some divine entity rather than a mere cultivator, Huang Xue still believed he could win.
Because Xiao Lin was not a god.
He was still human.
And humans—could be broken.
Far from the training grounds, away from the murmurs of the Outer Court, deep within the ancient halls of the academy where only the most powerful resided, a gathering of Elders sat in silent contemplation, their expressions unreadable, their aged faces lined with wisdom and experience, their eyes flickering with quiet, measured consideration as they reviewed the reports that had been presented before them—the records of every match that had taken place, the analysis of every technique used, the detailed accounts of every battle, and, most importantly—the growing anomaly that was Xiao Lin.
“This is unnatural,” one of the Elders finally spoke, his voice calm, yet carrying the weight of deep concern. “No disciple should be able to progress this quickly. Even if he possesses some unknown inheritance, some secret technique that enhances his cultivation, the sheer ease with which he dismantles his opponents is… troubling.”
Another Elder exhaled slowly. “We have seen prodigies before. We have witnessed the rise of monsters who defied logic, who stood above their peers, who challenged the heavens themselves. But this boy…”
A pause.
“He is different.”
A long silence followed.
Then—the eldest among them, a man whose presence alone commanded absolute authority, finally spoke.
“It is still too early to act.”
The others turned to him, waiting.
His gaze remained steady, unwavering.
“We watch. We wait. We decide once he reaches the Inner Court.”
A pause.
“But if his path continues as it does now…”
His voice grew quieter.
More final.
“Then we must determine whether he is an opportunity.”
A breath.
“Or a threat.”
As the night deepened, as the academy settled into a restless quiet, as the final eight disciples prepared themselves for the battles to come, Xiao Lin stood alone upon the rooftops, his golden eyes reflecting the moonlight, his presence blending seamlessly with the night, his Qi steady, calm, his mind completely unshaken by the weight of the world shifting around him.
But he was not alone.
He sensed her before she even spoke.
“…Do you ever stop?”
The voice was soft, familiar.
Su Luo.
Xiao Lin did not turn immediately, did not react, simply allowed the quiet to stretch between them before exhaling softly, his gaze still fixed on the distant horizon.
“I can’t afford to,” he finally murmured.
Su Luo hesitated.
Then, she stepped forward, her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes searching his face, her expression unreadable.
“You’ve changed,” she whispered.
Xiao Lin said nothing.
Because he had.
The boy she had once known—the one who had looked at her with warmth, with unshakable determination, with the kind of sincerity that could melt even the coldest winter—was gone.
In his place stood something far more dangerous.
“Are you even happy?” she asked, her voice quiet, uncertain.
Xiao Lin finally turned to her.
And for the first time, Su Luo felt it.
The distance.
Not physical.
But something far greater.
Something that could no longer be bridged.
Because the man standing before her now—he was no longer walking the same path as the rest of them.
He was ascending.
And those left behind could only watch.
Su Luo’s breath caught.
Because in that moment, she realized—
She was afraid.
Not for him.
But of him.
And Xiao Lin?
He simply smiled.
Because soon—
The world would understand.
