Chapter 57 - Arrogant Junior meets Arrogant Senior

Qiang Ming stormed out of the classroom like a thundercloud, purple energy still dancing in faint arcs across his shoulders as his fists clenched at his sides. The ridiculous declaration of Tang Wulin's presidency, even after Qiang Ming's absolute domination of the trial, echoed like mockery in his mind. His pride, his ego—earned, not assumed—burned with fury. But with each step that carried him farther from the announcement, farther from that suffocating classroom, the weight of his rage began to lift. His stride loosened. His fists unclenched.

By the time he reached the outer perimeter of the working student dormitories, his gait had returned to its usual light, feline grace. His anger had not vanished, but it was tempered—reforged into quiet contemplation. He thought of the storm Gu Yue had conjured during their final clash. He had survived it not by endurance or brute strength, but by instinct and will.

More precisely, by control.

For the first time, he had consciously directed the destructive purple energy of the Blackstone Abyss Hammer—the Destruction energy. He had shaped it. Commanded it. Willed it into a barrier at the last moment to survive a full-powered blast that should have turned him into nothing more than simulation data.

His lips curled into a grin. He had done it. Complete, conscious mastery over Destruction.

Then a voice broke his thoughts.

"What an arrogant little prick you are, eh? I like it!"

It was crisp, clear, and filled with amused derision.

Qiang Ming spun on his heel, a flare of purple energy blooming around him instinctively as he prepared for combat. He hadn't sensed anything. No aura, no footsteps, no shift in the wind.

Enemy? Assassin?

That was his last thought before his violet eyes locked with a pair of pitch-black swirling irises—eyes that twisted like galaxies collapsing in on themselves. A pressure hit his mind like a sledgehammer. Reality folded. Then, darkness.

Time passed. How much, he couldn't tell.

When he opened his eyes again, it was with a sharp breath and a jolt of movement. His body reacted before his mind caught up—he sat upright, senses flaring, muscles taut.

Where was he? His eyes scanned frantically.

He was standing in a space that should not exist.

A starry sky hung above, infinite and black, but no moon lit the heavens. Beneath his feet was solid, dark earth, yet no horizon or landscape framed it. The space around him was… infinite and empty.

Then the voice returned.

"Took you long enough."

Qiang Ming turned toward it and beheld a man standing some distance away. The man was young-looking, with short black hair and a dark green uniform marked by intricate black patterns. His hands were folded neatly behind his back. His posture was casual—but the air around him hummed with a power that felt… ancient. Inescapable.

Those black, swirling eyes locked on to Qiang Ming again with amused condescension.

"From now on," he said, "you are my disciple. I am Tian Jue Dui. I will teach you the ways of a powerhouse, and show you that there is always a heaven beyond heaven."

Qiang Ming blinked. Once. Twice.

"What?" he finally managed. "Who are you? Where even am I?"

The confusion on his face was genuine. His brain scrambled for logical answers, but nothing added up. There was no Spirit Pagoda signature here, no trace of Shrek's security measures. No aura sensors. No guards.

Just him—and the man with the eyes of the void.

Tian Jue Dui's lip curled upward into a smile that was too amused, too knowing.

"The higher-ups decided you're too valuable a gem to be left polishing yourself alone in the Outer Court. But you're also too much of a headache to be given Inner Court privileges," he said, waving his hand. "Not with all those Battle Armor-obsessed brats about to be tossed into the Outer Court. So they asked me to take care of you."

Qiang Ming's anger gave way to thoughtfulness. That made sense. In a way.

"I'm assuming you know who I am," he said, voice cautious, "but who are you, really? I know your name, but that's not saying much."

Tian Jue Dui chuckled. A deep, mirthful sound, almost nostalgic.

"Incredible. Even now, names and titles fade into irrelevance after just a few generations. To think that even I would be forgotten by the younglings…"

He raised a finger, waving it in mock disapproval.

"Tell you what. Survive the next semester of training with me and I'll tell you the story of Tian Jue Dui, capiche?"

Qiang Ming blinked again. This guy was insane.

But the power coming off of him was real. Unquestionably real. Even now, it made the air itself heavy with pressure.

He nodded once.

"Okay then," Tian Jue Dui said, turning and beginning to walk away. "Let's start by awakening that dormant spirit of yours."

"Dormant spirit?" Qiang Ming echoed, following quickly behind.

"The inherent flaw in your family's Martial Spirit," Tian Jue Dui answered casually, "the one you escaped thanks to your mutation—it's still present within you. Took me a while to decipher it, but with you here… and the original thing to compare it to… well, it's clear."

Qiang Ming paused. Original thing? That phrasing set off alarms in his mind.

"Wait. What do you mean original thing?"

Tian Jue Dui sighed, long-suffering. He turned toward the heavens as though asking the stars why he was burdened with such an impertinent disciple. Then, without a word, he raised his hand.

A hammer appeared.

But not just any hammer.

It was massive, and unmistakable—dark silver body lined with deep blue etchings, wrapped in an aura of age and authority.

Even at a glance, Qiang Ming knew what it was.

His jaw dropped.

"THE CLEAR SKY HAMMER?! IMPOSSIBLE!"

"QUIET DOWN," Tian Jue Dui snapped with sudden force, his voice no longer playful but commanding—enough to make Qiang Ming's mouth snap shut.

The man sighed again and shook his head.

"I said I'll explain everything if you survive till the end of the semester. For now, keep your trap shut and listen. Your situation is… unique."

Qiang Ming swallowed hard and nodded.

He was no longer just a student with a grudge. No longer just the heir of a fallen clan.

He was now the disciple of someone who wielded the Clear Sky Hammer—and whatever journey lay ahead… it was already far beyond anything he had imagined.