The Saiyan In The Cultivation World.

"What? How did you melt that?" Qing Ying blurted out, her voice tinged with disbelief. Her usual composure wavered as she struggled to comprehend the sight before her.

"Simple," I said with a smirk, uncrossing my arms as I stepped forward. "My spirit burns hot. Did you really think this level of ice could withstand the heat of my spirit?"

As I spoke, flames began to flicker and swirl around me, licking at the air and growing steadily until they consumed my body in a blazing aura. The intense heat radiated outward, causing the ground beneath me to hiss and steam.

This wasn't just any fire—it was something I had gained from Nuova Shenron. Back in the Dragon Ball world, I fought him and many others, each battle leaving its mark on me. 

"I call this Nova Armor," I said, my voice calm despite the inferno erupting around me.

The flames roared higher, their heat radiating with such intensity that Qing Ying faltered. Her attempts to summon ice failed outright; the overwhelming heat rendered her Qi almost useless in the face of it.

Sweat beaded on her brow as she channeled a massive amount of Qi just to shield herself from the fire's wrath. Even then, her clothing threatened to ignite, the edges of her sleeves beginning to singe. The flames were relentless, suffocating, and all-consuming.

Her skin reddened under the oppressive heat, and the arena's barrier flickered ominously as it absorbed the brunt of the fire. The crowd looked on in awe and fear as the flames licked dangerously close to its surface.

The elders, sensing the strain on the barrier, moved quickly to reinforce it. Their faces were shocked at the power behind the flames, this wasn't something a level 3 Body tempering realm cultivator should be able to pull off... yet I was doing it.

Qing Ying's gritted teeth and the strain on her face told the story—this was a battle against a force she hadn't been prepared for.

"This will be the building block for my new strongest technique... Zanka no Tachi," I said softly, my voice steady as the flames began to shift.

The inferno that had engulfed the arena surged toward the wooden sword in my hand. The blade, unassuming moments ago, now seemed to transform into a void—a black hole that devoured every flicker of fire.

The roaring heat receded with it, and the oppressive air lightened. The arena, moments away from melting under the strain, cooled as the overwhelming presence of the flames vanished.

Qing Ying staggered slightly, gasping as she took in a lungful of blessedly cooler air. Sweat drenched her from head to toe, her breathing ragged and uneven. She had never sweated this much in her life; her body felt light-headed and weak, as though she had run out of Qi entirely just from holding her ground.

But then she looked up, her gaze drawn to the wooden sword in my hand. She wasn't alone—everyone in the arena had their eyes fixed on it.

The once-simple wooden sword now resembled a charred stick, its surface blackened and brittle, as though it might crumble into ashes at any moment. Smoke curled lazily from the blade, faint wisps rising into the air, a stark reminder of the overwhelming heat it had contained just moments ago.

The sheer power that had filled the arena, threatening to consume everything, now lay dormant within the fragile-looking weapon. It was an almost surreal sight, one that left the crowd murmuring in disbelief.

"I have to use a lot of my Haki just to keep this thing from falling apart," I said, glancing at the charred sword in my hand. The faint wisps of smoke trailing from it seemed to agree with me.

Then, as if the thought had struck me mid-sentence, I added with a shrug, "Is there such a thing as Fire Intent? Ice Intent? Sure, why not? If it doesn't exist, I'll just create it."

I smirked at the idea, my confidence unwavering. Why should I question anything? I was a genius, after all. If something didn't fit within the rules, I'd just rewrite them. This was my path, and I'd walk it however I pleased.

"Let's test it," I said lightly, tapping the wooden sword against the ground.

The effect was immediate and terrifyingly silent.

The land in front of me didn't explode or crumble—it simply disappeared. The ground was scorched into absolute nothingness, leaving behind a smooth, blackened void. The barrier that had once protected the arena evaporated in that direction, unable to resist the searing intensity.

Beyond the arena, the forest stretching along the sword's path met the same fate. Trees, grass, and even the very air seemed to burn away into oblivion, leaving a charred emptiness in its wake.

The crowd stared in stunned silence, unable to process what they had just witnessed. There was no sound, no shockwave—just an overwhelming, consuming heat that erased everything it touched.

"Nice," I said, my voice calm despite the devastation before me. My gaze drifted from the scorched emptiness stretching out in front of me to my own body—and the absence of my left arm.

The stump where my arm had been was blackened and charred, smoke rising faintly from the exposed flesh. The heat hadn't just burned it—it had obliterated it, leaving behind nothing but cauterized remains.

I raised what was left of my arm, staring at it with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance. The pain was there, sharp and constant, but it didn't bother me as much as the fact that I hadn't foreseen this outcome.

"That much energy," I muttered, inspecting the cauterized edges, "packed into such a small thing… hard to control, I guess."

"I'll work on improving it later," I said lazily, watching as my arm began to regenerate. Flesh, sinew, and bone wove themselves back together seamlessly, the process as natural to me as breathing.

I shifted my gaze toward Qing Ying and noticed her mouth was slightly open, just enough to betray her shock. It was a subtle expression, one that would have gone unnoticed by most. But with my sharp senses, it was impossible to miss.

Her composure, usually so cold and unshakable, had cracked. She wasn't alone in her shock. The crowd watching from the stands mirrored her disbelief, their eyes wide and jaws slack.

After all, what they had just witnessed defied all logic—a level 3 Body Tempering cultivator unleashing an attack so overwhelming that even a peak level 10 Soul Refinement expert would have been utterly helpless against it.

The sheer disparity in power was incomprehensible, a blatant defiance of the natural order. Murmurs rippled through the spectators, some questioning if what they had seen was even possible, while others simply stared in stunned silence, unable to form coherent thoughts.

This wasn't just skill or talent—it was something far beyond their understanding.

They would be even more shocked if they knew the truth, I was holding back. If I had unleashed my full power, this wasn't just a stage or a forest that would be obliterated. The entire continent would have been reshaped... but they didn't need to know that. Not yet.