Samsara Tower: Only I Know the Plot!

”Host, I request to use a weapon!”

Sun Zhengying’s sudden declaration startled the referee.

”You... wish to use a weapon? What kind?” he asked cautiously.

Weapons were permitted under the martial arts conference rules, though they had to be issued by the organizers to ensure fairness.

”A sword. Any standard blade will do,” Sun Zhengying replied confidently.

The host gave a short nod, then turned to Fenric. ”Your opponent has requested the use of a weapon. Do you require one as well?”

The offer was fair. With a weapon, Sun Zhengying would gain a clear advantage. If Fenric refused, the fight would be much harder for him.

But Fenric merely shook his head. ”No.”

The host blinked in surprise, then gave a resigned shrug. ”Very well. A standard sword will be brought out for contestant Sun Zhengying.”

Moments later, staff delivered an iron longsword into Sun Zhengying’s hand. He tested the weight briefly, then lifted his gaze to Fenric.

”I know the rumors about you are false. You’re no fraud,” he said with a faint smile. ”You’re skilled—particularly with your finger techniques.”

Fenric offered no reply, his silence met only with a quiet chuckle from Sun Zhengying.

The host stepped back. ”Begin!”

The instant the signal rang out, Sun Zhengying lunged forward. His iron sword gleamed as it thrust toward Fenric—not with elaborate swordplay, but with ruthless, straightforward precision.

He hadn’t chosen a weapon to flaunt his skill. Rather, he intended to nullify Fenric’s greatest strength.

The day before, Sun Zhengying had carefully reviewed the recorded matches of Fenric, Qian Ming, and Tang Zichen. He had seen the rumors of a ”fake fight” circulate, but unlike the masses, he knew the truth: Fenric’s strikes were genuine, and his finger techniques terrifyingly lethal.

That was why he needed a weapon.

In martial arts, there was a saying: ”An inch longer, an inch stronger.”

To counter Fenric’s close-range finger techniques, the best strategy was distance. And the sword provided exactly that.

”If you can’t even get close,” Sun Zhengying thought coldly, ”then no matter how strong your fingers are, they’re useless.”

With that, his blade cut through the air, aimed directly at Fenric’s heart.

At the same time, another crucial reason was that Sun Zhengying didn’t want to exhaust too much of his strength against Fenric. He needed to preserve his energy for the decisive battle with Tang Zichen.

Using a weapon was the fastest way to end the fight—at least, that was Sun Zhengying’s plan.

In truth, his thinking wasn’t wrong.

The problem was that he underestimated the opponent standing before him.

Fenric was not an ordinary human being.

”Swish—!”

Sun Zhengying’s sword thrust came with blinding speed. Though it was the simplest of direct stabs, it carried deadly intent. He had prepared thoroughly, setting traps and contingencies should Fenric try to dodge.

But just as the tip of the blade was about to pierce into Fenric’s body—Fenric finally moved.

No retreat. No dodge.

Sun Zhengying’s eyes widened in disbelief.

He saw Fenric calmly raise his hand and extend a single finger.

What is this?

Does he intend to block my sword... with his finger?

Sun Zhengying almost laughed. Madness! What mortal flesh could resist tempered steel?

Since you’re seeking death, don’t blame me for crippling your hand!

With this thought, Sun Zhengying shifted his feint into a full-force thrust, driving the blade forward with all his strength.

And in that instant—Fenric’s finger flicked out.

The fingertip met the tip of the sword with absolute precision.

”Clang!!”

The sound of steel striking steel rang through the arena, sharp and resonant.

But in the very next heartbeat, the crowd gasped.

Fenric’s finger remained intact. The blade, on the other hand, shuddered violently before splintering apart. Inch by inch, it shattered, reduced to fragments of metal that scattered onto the ground like falling slag.

”!!!”

Sun Zhengying’s face was drained of color.

From the hilt of his broken sword, a terrifying force surged into his arm—an alien vibration that tore through bone, muscle, and vein alike.

”Crack—!”

His arm gave way under the destructive power. Bones splintered, flesh ruptured, and the limb hung uselessly at his side.

The cruel irony struck him at once.

He had intended to cripple Fenric’s hand. Instead, it was his own arm that had been ruined.

Stunned, Sun Zhengying stood frozen on the stage, disbelief etched across his once-proud face.

It wasn’t until the searing pain overwhelmed him that reality set in.

”AAAHHH!!!”

His scream tore through the Bird’s Nest stadium, raw and despairing. It was not only the pain that drove him to cry out, but the dread—the knowledge that his career, his future as a martial artist, might have ended in this very moment.

A martial artist with one arm crippled... was a martial artist destroyed.

Sun Zhengying, once hailed as a genius with limitless potential, could only collapse into fear.

Soon after, medical staff rushed onto the platform, lifting his writhing body and carrying him off amidst his agonized howls.

As his figure disappeared from view, the entire stadium fell into stunned silence.

It was shocking enough that Sun Zhengying had drawn a weapon to face Fenric, despite the whispers of a ”fake match.” But what none of them expected was that Sun Zhengying—hailed as a prodigy—would suffer a devastating defeat, dragged away like a broken man.

And the so-called ”fake match” contestant had once again emerged victorious.

With just a single finger.

All eyes turned toward Fenric, standing calmly in the center of the ring.

Some had once doubted his victories, suspecting collusion or trickery. But after what they had just witnessed, those doubts shattered like Sun Zhengying’s sword.

Did they not see? Even steel weapons had crumbled at his touch.

One finger, and the opponent’s weapon was destroyed. One finger, and his foe was crippled.

The sheer terror of such ability left the audience breathless.

Only after several tense seconds did the host recover enough to speak.

”C-Contestant No. 3, Fenric, wins!”

”Next, Contestant No. 2, Tang Zichen, will face Contestant No. 3, Fenric!”

”This match will determine the champion of the finals! Who will triumph? Let us wait and see!!”