The First Battle, Decisive Victory
"Hmm. Yao Xuan, Tang Wulin, Xie Xie. Step forward."
Wu Zhangkong gave a slight nod, his voice devoid of inflection yet carrying the weight of absolute certainty.
"Yes, Teacher Wu!"
The three responded in unison, their voices crisp. A flicker of profound gratitude warmed Tang Wulin's eyes as he glanced at his teacher. He understood the significance of this choice. Among the four who had endured the special training, Gu Yue was undeniably stronger. That Wu Zhangkong had selected him was a deliberate gift—a chance to prove his mettle on this public stage, to transform the resilience forged in private into public validation.
"Oh? Tang Wulin?"
Dean Long Hengxu couldn't mask his surprise, his gaze lingering on the boy with the unassuming demeanor. He remembered Tang Wulin—the student targeted by bullies on his first day. His soul power was unremarkable, and his martial soul was... Blue Silver Grass? Sending out a Soul Master with such a martial soul in a promotion tournament? Long Hengxu was baffled.
"Three participants from Class 5. Teacher Kong, you have five minutes to select yours," Long Hengxu announced, turning to the other side.
"Five minutes? Unnecessary," Kong Hanwen scoffed, puffing out his chest. "My fighters have been ready. Galon, Lin Zunyuan, Moss. The three of you. Remember, you carry the honor of Class 4. Fight with the spirit your training has given you!"
"Very well. Participants, enter the arena."
At Long Hengxu's command, the six students stepped onto the rune-reinforced stage. The air grew taut with anticipation.
For Class 5, Yao Xuan took the central position naturally, a still point of focus. Tang Wulin stood solidly to his left, a foundation of stubborn determination, while Xie Xie hovered on his right, a coiled spring of agile potential.
Opposing them, Class 4's trio was led by Galon—a student whose short, stocky frame belied a dense, powerful build. Flanking him were the slender, watchful Lin Zunyuan and the average-built Moss, whose eyes darted assessingly. All three wore expressions of eager hunger, seeing this match as their moment to crush the "rubbish class" and ascend.
"In this promotion match, remember: harmony first. Withdraw your force when necessary. Do not intentionally inflict severe injury. Now, take your positions! Prepare... three... two... one... begin!"
Long Hengxu's voice cut through the silence. Both teams retreated, putting fifty meters of polished metal between them.
The match ignited.
The Class 4 trio reacted with practiced synergy. Galon roared, a guttural sound that seemed to swell his body. His muscles bulged against his uniform, his arms and thighs thickening with alarming speed. His eyes glazed over with a bestial yellow as he lowered his center of gravity and charged Yao Xuan like a battering ram.
Behind him, Lin Zunyuan raised his hands. A slender staff of pale oak materialized, and a milky-white soul ring rose from his feet. With a sharp incantation, a beam of faint red light lanced from the staff's tip, crossing the space instantly to splash across Galon's broad back.
The effect was immediate. A crimson film flickered over Galon's yellow irises. His aura spiked violently; he seemed to grow another half-size, and his charge accelerated into a blur of menacing momentum.
Simultaneously, Moss's figure shimmered and dissolved into a series of faint afterimages, his body becoming insubstantial as he sought to flank Yao Xuan's position.
One brute-force attacker, amplified by support. One agile infiltrator. One support soul master. It was a classic, effective trio composition, and their seamless activation spoke of deliberate rehearsal.
"Galon's power is decent!"
"His soul power must be around Level 15. With that buff, he's hitting with the force of a Level 18 Battle Soul Master!"
"Let's see how Class 5 handles this. Hopefully, they can push Class 4 to reveal more."
The observing students from Class 3 murmured, their analyses tinged with a condescending pity for Class 5. The academy's hierarchy was ingrained; Class 5 was where talent went to be forgotten.
Yet, as the battle commenced, Yao Xuan, Xie Xie, and Tang Wulin did not flare their soul rings or summon dazzling martial souls. They simply moved.
Yao Xuan took a single, fluid step forward. Then, his body vanished from its original position, not with a burst of light, but with a terrifying economy of motion that left the air itself seeming to flinch. He reappeared directly in the path of Galon's thunderous charge. There was no dramatic wind-up, no shouted technique. His right arm shot forward, a piston of controlled force, his fist aimed with surgical precision for the center of Galon's chest.
Galon's eyes, glowing with bestial rage, widened in shock. 'So fast!' He had no time for strategy, only instinct. He threw his own empowered fist forward in a desperate, clumsy counter.
THUD.
The impact was a deep, singular concussion, like a heavy sack of grain hitting solid earth. There was no prolonged struggle. Galon's forward momentum reversed catastrophically. His body lifted off the ground, hurtled backward through the air, and crashed onto the hard ground beyond the arena's boundary line with a heavy groan. By the tournament's rules, he was out.
A stunned silence blanketed the stands, broken only by the faint hum of the soul barrier.
"A... one-hit knockout?"
"He didn't even use his martial soul!"
"What kind of monster is that?!"
Even Dean Long Hengxu's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline.
The students of Class 5, however, watched with calm expectancy. They had grown accustomed to the impossible being routine where Yao Xuan was concerned.
While Yao Xuan dealt with the primary threat, Tang Wulin closed on Lin Zunyuan. Though only Level 14, he faced a support soul master of only slightly higher level. With a focused grunt, blue light flashed. Tough vines of mutated Blue Silver Grass erupted from the floor around Lin Zunyuan, entangling his legs and staff in a complex net before he could cast another spell. The boy struggled, but the grass held with tenacious strength.
Xie Xie, meanwhile, became a phantom. One moment he was beside Yao Xuan; the next, he was behind the flickering form of Moss. The Light Dragon Dagger gleamed in his hand, not striking to harm, but resting its icy flat against the back of Moss's neck. The chill and the implicit threat were unmistakable. Moss froze, his insubstantial form solidifying in surrender, his hands slowly rising.
Three opponents. Three decisive, instant victories.
The spectators from Class 3 could only stare, their earlier condescension shattered, replaced by a cold drip of dread. Was this truly Class 5? This level of overwhelming, effortless dominance surpassed even their expectations for the top-ranked class.
"The victor: Class 5, Grade 1," Long Hengxu announced, reclaiming the center of the stage. He offered Wu Zhangkong a slow, respectful nod. "You will challenge Class 3, Grade 1, tomorrow."
A wave of elation broke over the Class 5 students. Cheers and excited chatter erupted as they surged forward, not quite mobbing their three representatives but surrounding them with a palpable wave of pride and disbelief.
On the sidelines, Gu Yue had watched the entire brief engagement, her amethyst eyes missing no detail. As Yao Xuan turned from the arena, his expression returning to its usual composed state, she met his gaze. A small, genuine smile touched her lips—not broad or exuberant, but one of deep, knowing approval. It was the smile of one sovereign recognizing the effortless exercise of another's power.
Yao Xuan caught her smile. He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod in return, a silent communication that bypassed the celebrating crowd, before making his way calmly to her side. The first barrier had been cleared not with a struggle, but with the quiet, undeniable finality of a mountain standing in the path of the wind. The tournament had begun, and Class 5 had announced its presence not with a shout, but with a whisper that echoed with thunderous intent.