The air inside the indoor training hall was already growing heavy with tension, the soft tap of shoes on spirit-treated wood echoing beneath the high, rune-etched ceiling.
It was the first official day of Class 5's combat training—and already, sparring matches were on the menu.
Wu Zhangkong stood at the edge of the training circle, arms folded behind his back, white robes unmoving even in the stir of soul energy beginning to rise in the air.
He didn't give speeches. He didn't explain the curriculum.
He simply said:
"Line up. Two-on-two matches, followed by single duels. Treat this like war."
The class flinched.
No one moved right away—until Tang Wulin stepped forward, dragging his feet just enough to seem uncertain. A few others followed suit.
Qiang Ming did not move.
He stood in the back corner, arms relaxed, quietly watching.
This is the class they placed me in? he thought, unimpressed. He didn't recognize most of the students—not that he expected to. Most of them had average cultivation, one or two already sweating just from standing in Wu Zhangkong's pressure field.
He watched the matches unfold.
Tang Wulin, even with his low rank, was hard-working. His control over Blue Silver Grass was rudimentary but disciplined. His footwork needed refinement, but his instincts were sharp.
Others fared worse.
Wang Jinxi had a powerful Martial Soul, but his defensive style clashed with an uncooperative partner. Zhang Yangzi was agile, but clearly not used to team dynamics. Several of the fights ended awkwardly or with clear mismatches.
Then came Xie Xie.
Confident, fast, and precise.
With his Light Dragon Dagger, he moved like lightning, blurring from one side of the field to the other. His footwork was excellent. His strikes hit hard—and more importantly, they never hit the same place twice.
He didn't win every match, but he looked the cleanest doing it.
When the two-on-two sessions ended, Wu Zhangkong raised a hand.
"Switch. One-on-one. Step forward when ready."
There was hesitation again—but the competitive ones emerged first.
Wang Jinxi took on Zhang Yangzi. Then Tang Wulin stepped up again and managed a surprise holdout using clever positioning.
Throughout it all, Qiang Ming remained seated, silent as ever.
Until—
"I pick him."
All heads turned.
Xie Xie was standing in the middle of the field, one hand lazily pointing at the only student who hadn't stepped forward all morning.
Qiang Ming blinked.
The murmurs started again.
"Isn't that the Clear Flow Clan kid?"
"He hasn't even fought yet."
"Isn't he the one who sent three students through a wall?!"
Qiang Ming stood with the grace of a blade being unsheathed.
He walked to the center ring, steps light, eyes neutral.
Xie Xie smirked. "Let's see if the hammer's just for show."
Wu Zhangkong gave a nod.
"Begin."
The instant the word left his lips, Xie Xie vanished.
A flicker—no, a blur of movement—as the Light Dragon Dagger user closed the gap in a flash, blade gleaming with soul energy. His speed was impressive. Even some of the older students would've had trouble tracking his movement.
But Qiang Ming didn't flinch.
He simply took one step back.
CLANK.
The dagger struck the flat of something large and solid—the shaft of Qiang Ming's Blackstone Abyss Hammer, now in full view.
The weapon had appeared from violet mist, as heavy and silent as a tombstone.
Xie Xie's eyes widened. How did he block it that fast?!
He retreated with a backward roll, then launched again, this time feinting left before darting around Qiang Ming's back.
He attacked from the blind spot.
Or so he thought.
WONG!
Qiang Ming spun the hammer in a backward sweep. The weapon whistled through the air, its pressure alone pushing Xie Xie off-balance mid-dash. The boy flipped back again, narrowly avoiding a flattening blow.
He's not just strong. He's reactive.
"Not bad," Xie Xie said, regaining his footing. "But let's see how you do against speed."
This time, he activated his soul skill—Light Dragon Dash—enhancing his agility even further. His afterimages spread in three directions as he attacked.
The class watched with wide eyes.
Xie Xie bounced from wall to wall, striking from different angles. But each time, the hammer was there.
Blocking.
Redirecting.
Anticipating.
Qiang Ming moved like a fortress that could breathe.
He didn't rush. He didn't chase.
He let Xie Xie come to him—and punished each approach with surgical precision.
Still, Xie Xie was resilient. He kept moving, jabbing, testing.
Until—
He jumped.
A high arc, dagger drawn for a clean overhead strike.
Qiang Ming exhaled through his nose.
And moved.
He spun once, swinging the hammer's butt end into Xie Xie's descending form—right into his gut.
THUMP.
The air left Xie Xie's lungs in a violent gasp.
Then came the follow-up: a twisting swing that struck his midsection again—this time with the flat of the hammer, enough to send him flying but not enough to break anything.
Xie Xie crashed to the ground, coughing, limbs twitching.
Wu Zhangkong stepped forward.
"Stop. Match over. Winner: Qiang Ming."
Silence fell.
Then came the whispers.
"Did he even use a soul skill?"
"He didn't even sweat."
"I thought Xie Xie was the strongest..."
From the sidelines, Tang Wulin stared with wide eyes.
He didn't even activate his rings...
But he had two. He saw them during the block. Two yellow rings. Rank twenty-one.
Xie Xie sat up slowly, groaning.
"You're… ridiculous."
Qiang Ming lowered his hammer and nodded. "Thank you for the match."
He returned to his seat without fanfare.
Wu Zhangkong watched him go, expression unreadable.
He didn't use SoulQuake Blow, the teacher thought. Still hiding his full power.
He looked at the class.
"Rest. One duel remains."
His gaze flicked toward Tang Wulin.
"You're up."