From high above the arena, behind a screen of spirit-glass, two teachers stood silently watching.
Wu Zhangkong, arms folded and eyes calm as still ice, observed the battle's rhythm without speaking. When Qiang Ming went flying from the explosive force of Wulin's golden dragon claw, he didn't react with surprise. Only a single nod escaped him—controlled and deliberate.
Beside him, Chen Yi's brows were drawn together in sharp scrutiny. Her usually confident stance wavered slightly as she saw Qiang Ming's body crash into the ground like a ragdoll.
"…Was I wrong?" she murmured, more to herself than to Zhangkong. "Did I underestimate Wulin… or overestimate Ming?"
Zhangkong said nothing. He had the answer. But it wasn't time to share it.
The scene cut back to the fifty-meter-wide simulated arena. A scorched ring of trampled grass and scattered dirt marked the ground between where the two hammers had clashed.
Gu Yue stood just behind Tang Wulin, arms crossed. Her eyes were narrowed with sharp judgment. "I thought he'd be stronger," she said, her voice loud enough to carry. "How did he even get 99 points?"
Her tone wasn't cruel, but it was dismissive—and it struck like an arrow across the field.
Wu Siduo, who stood just a few meters away, heard her clearly. She turned her head slightly, brows twitching in confusion and something else—unease? Recognition?
She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could utter a single word—
A shift in the atmosphere froze the air.
The simulation had not ended.
From the center of the cratered field, Qiang Ming stirred.
Inside the pit, Qiang Ming's body twitched. Pain crackled through every nerve, radiating from the dark bruise blooming across his cheek and chest. His thoughts were scrambled, chaotic.
How did he get so strong?
What the hell was that claw?
Why didn't Soulquake Blow work? That thing breaks through armor!
He wanted to let go. He could feel the familiar pull of the simulation's failsafe protocol trying to remove him from danger, preparing to convert him into a beam of golden light and eject him from the match. He'd been hit hard—bad enough that staying any longer could be risky.
His breath came in ragged gasps. His vision blurred. He closed his eyes.
Then he heard it.
"I thought he'd be stronger…"
Gu Yue's voice echoed in his mind like a slap.
His eyes snapped open.
The fury that swelled within Qiang Ming in that moment was volcanic. Not the wild rage of an untrained youth—but the primal, focused hatred of someone who had suffered, clawed his way through death, and earned his scars. His shame was real—but this? This disrespect?
Unforgivable.
"No…" he muttered. "Not like this…"
Qiang Ming slammed his fist into the earth beside him. With a snarl, he rejected the simulation's pull, gritting his teeth as he forced himself upright. The pressure in the arena shifted sharply. An oppressive, suffocating weight descended, pressing on every student like a silent scream.
At the edge of the battlefield, Tang Wulin turned to Gu Yue and Wu Siduo, arms still lowered, face calm.
"I guess you girls can have your 1v1 now—"
He paused.
A wave of dread crashed into him.
Danger.
His instincts screamed.
Golden scales immediately coated his right arm as he snapped his hand up to guard his face.
He was just in time.
The Blackstone Abyss Hammer tore through the air like a shooting star, smashing into his forearm with a thunderous boom. Pain lanced through both of Wulin's arms. He slid back across the grass, boots carving trenches into the ground as he gritted his teeth and dug in.
He barely held on.
The hammer pulsed… then disappeared into mist, vanishing in the wind—
Only to reappear in the hands of a burned but standing Qiang Ming.
The boy's eyes blazed violet, sharp and wild. His torso was battered, skin scraped, but he stood like a war god who had just awakened.
"I will show you all how strong I am!" he roared, voice cracking the tension like a whip. "Don't you farmhands dare disrespect me again!"
He didn't look at Wulin.
He looked at everyone.
And then he charged.
The frenzied fury behind each step cracked the earth beneath his feet. His Soul Power surged like a tide. His presence—a roaring inferno.
Class 0 stared in shock as he came at them like a meteor.
From the teachers' chamber, Chen Yi's eyes widened.
Wu Zhangkong didn't nod this time.
He smiled.