Chapter 17 : The Lord of the Martial Hall

The assessment elder's reaction sent a ripple of shock through the audience. Silence engulfed the competition field as all eyes fixated on him.

"The purity and intensity of his inner energy… It's almost on par with a ninth-level Body Refinement practitioner," the elder muttered, still staring at Dustin Li with a mix of disbelief and admiration. "I almost misjudged it."

In the crowd, Jude Zhang, Maddox Lu, and several others were frozen in shock. Their expressions were a mix of astonishment and sheer incredulity, their jaws nearly hitting the ground.

"This… this has to be a joke!" Jude Zhang finally sputtered. "Three months ago, his cultivation was below mine, and now he's at the seventh level? And his inner energy is actually comparable to the ninth level?"

Gasps filled the arena. Those who were familiar with Dustin Li were the most shaken. In just three months, he had advanced from the second to the seventh level of Body Refinement—five entire realms. This kind of progress was unheard of, a feat never before witnessed in the eight-hundred-year history of the Novaridge City Martial Hall.

Among the stunned spectators, Emery Liu's expression was especially complicated. Her mind drifted back to their encounter in the library, when she had suggested he become a guard for the Liu family. Now, she understood why he had so easily dismissed her offer.

With such terrifying cultivation speed, why would he ever settle for servitude?

"Hmph!" Jude Zhang scoffed, forcing down his unease. "So what if he's at the seventh level? I'll crush him today!"

Even though the assessment elder had praised Dustin's inner energy, Jude remained confident in his superiority.

Dustin, standing tall on the competition platform, felt a swell of emotion. Just months ago, he had been a nameless commoner, scorned and overlooked. Yet now, under the scrutiny of countless eyes—some envious, some skeptical—he had proven himself.

He stepped down from the stage, his heart steady.

The assessment continued, and one by one, more students were tested. The elimination rate was brutal.

Out of the entire beginner class, only five students passed, Dustin included.

For those attempting to advance from the intermediate class to the advanced class, the odds were even grimmer—only one succeeded.

Cultivation became exponentially harder the further one progressed, making every breakthrough a monumental feat.

With the final test concluded, the assessment elder raised his hand and announced, "The annual assessment is over!" Without another word, he turned and left.

However, the crowd remained.

Everyone knew that after the assessment came the real battle.

A sharp voice cut through the air.

"Dustin Li!"

A figure leaped onto the stage, standing tall with arms crossed.

It was Jude Zhang.

"Last time, Teacher Maeve protected you," he sneered. "But now, we're both intermediate-class students. Do you dare face me?"

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

"Heh, this commoner trash made such a spectacle of himself—let's see how he gets out of this one."

"Yeah, he advanced five realms in three months, but that doesn't mean he has real strength. Jude Zhang is at the eighth level of Body Refinement—one full realm higher than him!"

"Exactly. There are shortcuts to raising cultivation, but those methods damage the body and cripple long-term potential. I bet he's just a temporary powerhouse."

Despite his performance in the assessment, many still doubted Dustin's abilities. They believed Jude Zhang—a recognized genius—would put him in his place.

Yet Dustin didn't hesitate.

Under the jealous and mocking gazes of the crowd, he stepped onto the stage.

Jude Zhang's eyes gleamed with malice.

At fifteen years old, he had already reached the eighth level of Body Refinement—something he took great pride in.

"Dustin Li," he sneered, "just because you managed to scrape your way to the seventh level doesn't mean you can compete with me. I'll show you the difference between us!"

His expression turned savage.

"Even if you beg for mercy, I won't spare you. You're going to spend the rest of your life crippled in bed!"

The venom in his words revealed his true intent—not just to defeat Dustin, but to utterly destroy him.

Dustin's eyes darkened.

"Abolish me?" he murmured.

Their rivalry had been nothing more than youthful competition, yet Jude Zhang had escalated it to life-altering stakes.

Jude sneered. "What, are you afraid? As long as I don't kill you, the Martial Hall won't punish me."

With that, he lunged forward, his attack swift and aggressive.

Dustin took a single step to the left.

Jude's strike hit nothing but air.

Snarling, Jude immediately followed up with a rapid flurry of attacks. His strikes were like a storm—relentless, merciless.

Yet Dustin never moved his hands from behind his back.

No matter how furious Jude's assault became, not a single attack touched him.

Dust swirled across the stage as their battle unfolded.

"Dustin's movement technique… it's incredible! Could he have already reached the Small Accomplishment stage?"

"Jude Zhang can't even touch him! This is insane!"

"Maybe… maybe Dustin actually has a chance to win!"

"Nonsense! He's just dodging. The moment he fights head-on, he'll be knocked out of the ring!"

The crowd buzzed with speculation.

Jude's frustration boiled over.

"Bastard! Are you just going to run?" He roared, his leg sweeping toward Dustin's head in a fierce kick.

"Bang!"

This time, Dustin didn't dodge.

He simply raised his arm, blocking the attack with ease.

Jude's eyes lit up in savage delight.

"You're finished!" He poured all his energy into his next move.

"Mountain-Crushing Palm!"

Dustin let out a cold chuckle.

"Pathetic."

He clenched his fist, his aura suddenly surging.

"Soaring Dragon Strike!"

"Boom!"

Jude's eyes widened in horror as an overwhelming force crashed into him.

His palm exploded with pain—bones fracturing on impact. His body was launched five meters into the air, blood spraying from his mouth as he crashed to the ground.

A stunned silence settled over the field.

On stage, Dustin stood tall, looking down at his fallen opponent with cold indifference.

"Eighth level of Body Refinement?" He smirked. "That's all?"

Jude coughed violently, struggling to rise. His face was twisted with fury and disbelief.

"Impossible! A commoner cannot defeat me!"

He staggered forward, eyes burning with hatred.

"I'll kill you!"

But before he could strike, Dustin caught his wrist in a crushing grip.

Jude's face contorted in pain. He struggled, but his inner energy was completely suppressed—as if it had been swallowed into a void.

"How… How is this possible? His energy is really comparable to the ninth level?!"

"Crack!"

With a sickening snap, Jude's wrist shattered.

Dustin sent him flying with a brutal kick to the chest.

"You threatened to cripple me," Dustin said coldly. "But now you are the cripple."

Jude's eyes filled with terror.

"You… you wouldn't dare! My father is the head of the Zhang family! If you touch me, you'll—"

"Bang!"

Dustin's fist struck. His Life-and-Death Energy surged into Jude's body, utterly destroying his meridians.

A piercing scream rang through the air.

Dustin turned away, his voice emotionless.

"You looked down on commoners. Now, you're lower than even the people you despised. What does that make you?"

The crowd watched in stunned silence.

Jude Zhang—the arrogant genius—was finished.

A heavy silence blanketed the arena. The spectators, who had been so eager to witness the duel, now found themselves paralyzed with fear. Dustin Li had not only defeated Jude Zhang—he had crippled him in a single exchange. The ruthlessness of it sent a shiver through the crowd, and many instinctively stepped back, as if afraid to catch his attention.

"Brother!"

A desperate cry rang out as Joshua Zhang scrambled onto the stage, his hands trembling as he reached for his fallen sibling. "Help! Someone, help my brother!"

Yet no one moved.

Even those who once fawned over Jude Zhang, the same sycophants who had followed him like shadows, now stood in quiet indifference. In their eyes, he was already a cripple—useless, discarded.

From a secluded attic overlooking the competition stage, two figures observed the scene with keen interest.

One was Elder Jeremy, the assessment elder—a man known for his keen eye and formidable martial prowess as one of Novaridge City's few innate martial artists. The other was a middle-aged man clad in a loose white robe, his presence commanding yet serene.

"Elder Jeremy, you claim that Dustin Li's cultivation is only at the seventh level of Body Refinement, yet his inner energy rivals that of the ninth?" The white-robed man's voice carried both curiosity and intrigue.

"Yes, Hall Master," Jeremy responded respectfully. "Our records show that just three months ago, Dustin Li was merely at the second level. His growth has been nothing short of astonishing. However, his techniques remain basic—he has only cultivated second-rank martial arts."

The white-robed man, the Lord of Novaridge City's Martial Hall, folded his hands behind his back. His gaze lingered on Dustin Li, who had just stepped down from the stage, his expression calm despite the storm he had unleashed.

"Intriguing," the Hall Master mused. "For a commoner to reach such heights in mere months… This boy is no ordinary talent. He is worth nurturing."