"If this keeps up, Zhao Xuan will be worn down sooner or later!"
"Not necessarily! Zhao Xuan may be an Animal-type user, but his fruit isn't ordinary. It boosted his physique by eighty points from the start! His recovery ability must be monstrous—he might just outlast Li Zhiwei instead!"
"…"
Unlike the experienced teachers, the students watching from the sidelines lacked both insight and combat knowledge.
To them, all that mattered was what they could see.
"Holy crap! How is Li Zhiwei this strong?"
"Zhao Xuan's getting completely dominated—he can't even fight back!"
"Hey, isn't Li Zhiwei from Class 2 supposed to be the worst student there? What's going on!?"
"You're asking me? I have no idea either!"
"That guy was hiding this kind of strength all along!?"
"Go, Brother Wei! You're invincible!"
The crowd's chatter echoed loudly, but it did nothing to distract the two fighters locked in the center of the arena.
Li Zhiwei continued to use his superior combat experience to press Zhao Xuan back step by step.
At first, Zhao Xuan tried to counterattack, but after seven or eight failed attempts—each dodged perfectly by Li Zhiwei—he simply stopped trying.
Instead, he focused all his energy on defense, relying on Iron Body to endure every blow.
"Fine then," Zhao Xuan muttered under his breath, "if I can't beat him, I'll just outlast him. Let's see who tires first."
He was confident—absolutely confident—in his recovery speed.
After all, he was no ordinary Zoan user—he was a Mythical Beast-type. His regenerative ability far surpassed any human or ordinary fruit user.
Sure, this turtle-shell tactic wasn't exactly flashy or heroic. It was slow. It was boring.
But Zhao Xuan didn't care.
In fact—he preferred it this way.
Because the longer the battle lasted…
The greater the reward his system would give him.
As time dragged on, even Li Zhiwei began to sense that something was wrong.
His breathing had turned heavy, his stamina waning fast—
while Zhao Xuan still stood calm and steady, breathing evenly.
"No good! I can't keep this up!"
"If this continues, I'll lose for sure!"
Realization struck. His eyes sharpened with resolve.
He had made up his mind.
The sluggish aura surrounding his body—the signature of the Sloth Fruit—suddenly vanished.
And then—
Boom!
Li Zhiwei's speed exploded.
In an instant, his movements became twice as fast as before.
A powerful Tempest Kick whipped through the air, striking Zhao Xuan squarely.
Thud! Thud!
Zhao Xuan braced himself and took the hit, sliding back two steps under the impact.
The crowd gasped in unison.
"Li Zhiwei—he's unbelievable!"
"He wasn't even going all out before!"
"Wait, no wonder—it's the Sloth Fruit! He was using its power on himself! He was handicapping his own speed during the fight!"
"As expected of Li Hang's son! The tiger truly has no weak cubs!"
The teachers in the stands exchanged glances, quickly piecing together what had happened.
"So that's it. He was restraining himself all along."
"Yeah, and now that he's unleashed his full speed, Zhao Xuan doesn't stand a chance. It's over."
In the arena—
Li Zhiwei launched a relentless barrage of attacks.
Finger Gun!
Tempest Kick!
The two deadliest techniques of the Six Styles stormed toward Zhao Xuan in a blinding flurry.
Each blow forced Zhao Xuan back further and further, his feet grinding furrows into the ground.
"So it's true," Zhao Xuan thought, a faint smile curling his lips,
"there's no such thing as a useless fruit—only useless people. Even the Sloth Fruit can be used like this."
He exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing.
"But… if this is all you've got—then you've already lost."
Without warning—
a mysterious surge erupted from Zhao Xuan's body.
The Mythical Zoan: Azure Dragon Form—activated.
Though his mastery was still only at the beginner stage,
he could not yet transform into a full dragon—or even a half-dragon—
but he could partially channel its power.
His black eyes turned deep azure, shimmering with primal energy.
His spiritual power, physique, and all physical stats multiplied—
not by two,
not by three—
but by fivefold.
At the same time, a crushing aura of dominance burst from his body, blanketing the arena in pressure.
Li Zhiwei froze. His body stiffened involuntarily beneath that suffocating force.
And in that instant—
Zhao Xuan moved.
With five times his normal speed, he easily read Li Zhiwei's attack pattern.
In five times his normal reflexes, his hand snapped forward—
and caught Li Zhiwei's leg mid-kick.
"What!?"
Li Zhiwei's eyes widened in disbelief.
Before he could even process what happened—
Zhao Xuan's fist drove into his abdomen like a cannon.
BOOM!
Backed by fivefold strength, the punch detonated through the air.
"Ugh!"
Li Zhiwei let out a strangled groan as his body was sent flying—
crashing into the ground tens of meters away.
He rolled several times, dust rising behind him—
and lay still.
A single punch.
Instant knockout.
The entire arena went silent.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
No one spoke. No one moved.
All eyes were locked on Zhao Xuan—
his dragon-tinted gaze glowing faintly under the sunlight.