Begin.
The moment Wu Zhangkong's voice fell, Tang Wulin instantly released his Blue Silver Grass and sprang forward with explosive power from his legs, darting toward Nan Fusheng like a flash of lightning.
He had carefully observed Nan Fusheng's first three battles. In the first two, Nan Fusheng's opponents fainted mid-casting. But in the third, against Han Lan, Nan Fusheng failed to knock her out instantly—only after she distanced herself and imprisoned him did he finally secure victory.
That gave Tang Wulin a clue: Nan Fusheng's soul skill might require a moment to activate. Otherwise, why wouldn't he have just knocked Han Lan out immediately like the others?
With no certainty, Tang Wulin could only bet on his hypothesis, so he chose to close the distance right away. He even used his Blue Silver Grass to obscure his figure and Nan Fusheng's line of sight, aiming to finish the fight as fast as possible.
Too bad—
"First Soul Skill (Modified): Steal."
Tang Wulin collapsed.
As he dropped to the ground, Nan Fusheng calmly walked toward him. On the outside, he looked composed, but his body was taut, ready to retreat at a moment's notice. After all, he was facing the protagonist on the plane. Who knew if Tang Wulin would explode with hidden power?
But even as Nan Fusheng approached, Tang Wulin didn't move.
Wu Zhangkong's gaze flickered with surprise before he nodded slightly.
"Nan Fusheng, victory."
Even with his perception, Wu Zhangkong still couldn't clearly understand Nan Fusheng's soul skill. He could only roughly guess it was mentally oriented, but it didn't feel like a traditional Spirit-type ability. That sparked his curiosity.
Then he turned to the next competitor.
"Xie Xie. You're up."
Xie Xie leapt into the field with flair, staring intently at Nan Fusheng. In truth, he'd been hoping to fight Tang Wulin. After all, the guy had beaten him twice, and both times had gone straight for the face.
Still, Nan Fusheng was Tang Wulin's hometown friend, and he'd just defeated Tang Wulin. So, beating him would help Xie Xie reclaim some pride.
As he prepared himself mentally, a cold voice interrupted from the side:
"Fourth round, second match: Xie Xie vs. Wu Zhangkong."
"WHAT?" Xie Xie exclaimed, turning in disbelief toward the cold-faced teacher.
Wu Zhangkong shot him a withering look.
"You had a bye in the third round. Did you think there'd be any unfairness in my class? Take one of my attacks—then you can face Nan Fusheng."
Xie Xie stared, dumbfounded.
"Teacher… You're joking, right? You're the teacher!"
Wu Zhangkong didn't answer. He casually walked toward Nan Fusheng, motioned for him to step back, and unfastened his belt.
"...Teacher? What are you doing?"
Xie Xie instinctively stepped back a few paces, wary. But he soon realized—Wu Zhangkong's pants weren't going anywhere. The belt was just a weapon.
With a flick of his wrist, the belt went taut like a sword.
"I won't use my martial soul. You just need to receive one strike."
He took one step forward.
And then he stabbed lightning-fast.
Xie Xie reacted instantly, soul power flaring. His Light Dragon Dagger appeared in his hand as he retreated at top speed. He was confident in his agility—he could dodge one attack!
But that's when he realized... something was wrong.
No matter how he moved, Wu Zhangkong's belt-sword remained locked onto him, like it had a will of its own.
It was just a straight thrust. Simple. Direct.
Yet… inescapable.
SMACK!
"OW!!"
The belt abruptly lost tension and snapped against his shoulder, sending him flying. He tumbled across the ground and only managed to get up after two full rolls, gripping his shoulder and wincing.
But what shocked him most wasn't the pain—it was the fear.
Just before the strike landed, Xie Xie had felt a chilling pressure, as if his very life was in danger. That moment of mortal fear had triggered an intense psychological response. Once it passed, he was drenched in sweat.
Just how strong is Teacher Wu...?
"One minute rest. Then the final match."
Wu Zhangkong coiled the belt back around his waist with a snap and returned to his spot.
Xie Xie stood still, wiping sweat from his brow, lost in thought. That one attack… it wasn't just force. It sealed off every escape route. He couldn't retreat, couldn't advance, couldn't evade.
How do I break free from that kind of pressure?
"Time's up. Get ready."
Xie Xie raised his head, meeting Nan Fusheng's calm gaze.
He had watched all of Nan Fusheng's battles. Like Tang Wulin, he also believed Nan Fusheng's skill needed a short delay to activate. And with his speed, he was confident he could end the fight before it triggered.
But after Wu Zhangkong's brutal lesson, he no longer underestimated anyone.
He would go all-out.
"Begin!"
Wu Zhangkong's voice echoed, and the final match of Class Five's combat trial began.
Xie Xie activated his martial soul. The Light Dragon Dagger shimmered in his hand. His stance lowered slightly, left hand raised in tandem with the dagger, body tensed like a crouching panther.
He lunged forward—swift, sharp, precise.
Nan Fusheng's expression remained calm. He summoned his martial soul without hesitation and watched Xie Xie charge.
True, Xie Xie had just undergone a moment of epiphany in his fight with Wu Zhangkong. That brush with death had pushed his mental state to new heights, boosting his resistance to mental interference.
Unfortunately...
"I'm not exactly a mental-type soul master."
First Soul Skill (Modified): Steal.
Familiar motion. Familiar result.
Xie Xie collapsed before he could strike.
"Nan Fusheng, victory."
Wu Zhangkong slowly swept his gaze across the entire class. His voice was as cold as ever:
"The combat trials are over. Do you all know what you looked like to me just now?"
"Uncarvable wood."
Dead silence.
"No wonder you were all placed in Class Five. Useless wastes, every last one of you."
He didn't sugarcoat a thing.
"But even if you're scrap iron, I'll forge you into steel. You all saw the matches just now. Nan Fusheng's soul power is far below Xie Xie's, yet he still won. And Tang Wulin? His martial soul is Blue Silver Grass, the most commonly mocked trash martial soul. If not for facing Nan Fusheng, who's to say what the outcome between him and Xie Xie would've been?"
After thoroughly roasting the class and emphasizing the importance of physical fitness, Wu Zhangkong concluded:
"Tomorrow—physical training."
And with that, he dismissed the class.
As everyone began to scatter—
Nan Fusheng. Xie Xie. Tang Wulin. You three—follow me.
With that final order, Wu Zhangkong turned and walked toward the teaching building.