The Mingdu training hall cut a proud and prominent figure, and any who stood at the bottom of the long stretch of stairs leading up to the temple would feel the looming, almost intimidating presence, the weight of a long history, ready to burst forth from those heavy wooden doors. Outside the grounds, it seemed to radiate a reverent aura of silence, though no doubt those training within would be making plenty of noise as they crashed fist against stone or let loose powerful shouts of battle. But outside, there was silence...until the soft tap of a footstep upon the stone. Tap...tap...tap, a slow, peaceful rhythm as a single man strode up the pathway. Red like fire was his robe, and so too his hair, but he gave off little warmth. Hands folded into his sleeves, he cast an eye as clear and calm as the sea towards the great gates.

Founded by one who had once stood guard over the Emperor himself, and who had offered wise counsel, the school of Mingdu was known far and wide across the Three Kingdoms. Only a few from among thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, would be chosen to receive instruction from those who had inherited the founder's art. And among those chosen, fewer still would attain the ranks of masters, grandmasters...legends. Mingdu was such a quiet, tranquil place, yet perhaps within it there slept dangerous beasts? This man aimed to find out.

He stood before the mighty temple of Mingdu, and raised one hand to one of the two large, decorated rings of steel held in the mouths of lions. He let the knocker drop once, twice, thrice. Then, once more folding his hands into his sleeves, he waited as still as a statue. A gentle breeze toyed with the tails of his robe, and the tail of his hair. He waited, as no answer came for several minutes. Perhaps those within the temple were too busy training to hear the knock? He raised his hand from the sleeve a second time, and contemplated the lion's steel ring...then returned the hand from whence it came.

He took in a deep, slow breath.

Then a voice like thunder rang out over the temple grounds.

"Dai Xin, sole disciple of Grandmaster Wu Ji of the Fist of the Sky, requests entrance to the school of Mingdu! This one seeks the right to challenge!"

Startled birds made a mad dash for the heavens from the rooftops of the temple. As the last echoes of his explosive voice died away, the man once again waited in silence before the gates.