First Blood in the Virtual Woods
The procession to the circular hall was a silent march of focused tension. The grandeur of Shrek Academy's architecture—the vaulted ceilings, the seamless glow of soul guide arrays—passed by in a blur for the students, their minds already in the coming fight.
Yao Xuan walked with his team. No words were needed; their formation spoke of their unity. Gu Yue was a calm presence at his side, her silver eyes taking in the advanced simulation chamber with analytical interest rather than awe. Tang Wulin cracked his knuckles, a habitual gesture of readiness. Xie Xie's gaze darted, already scouting the other teams for tells and weaknesses. Zhang Yangzi walked with a determined set to his jaw, quietly steeling himself.
Shen Yi's explanation of the simulation pods confirmed Yao Xuan's suspicions. A virtual space meant environmental hazards, limitless terrain manipulation, and no lasting physical injury—a perfect crucible for testing adaptability and ruthless efficiency.
"Stay close on entry," Yao Xuan murmured as they approached the row of oval pods. "Initial proximity is our advantage. Form up on me the moment you orient yourselves."
Gu Yue gave a slight nod. "The forest will have layers. Canopy, understory, floor. We secure a defensible position first, then hunt."
Their pods hissed open. Yao Xuan strapped himself into the form-fitting seat, the material cool and slightly yielding. As the lid sealed, plunging him into darkness, he took a centering breath. The gentle hum of energy surrounded him, and the familiar, weightless dizziness of spiritual projection took hold.
When his vision cleared, he was standing alone.
The air was thick with the scent of damp earth, decaying leaves, and vibrant, living greenery. Towering, ancient trees reached for a sky dappled with sunlight filtering through a dense canopy. The simulated forest was unnervingly real—the buzz of insects, the distant call of a bird, the give of loam under his boots.
His first thought was not of strategy, but of connection. 'Find Gu Yue.'
He extended his spiritual power, the 945-point strength of his Spirit Sea realm flowing out in a subtle, perceptive wave. The forest's own energy signatures—the slow pulse of the trees, the skittering life of small creatures—created a complex background noise. He filtered through it, seeking the unique, silvery-cold yet familiar resonance that was hers.
It was then his Eye of Insight, active and sharp, caught the anomaly.
Not through spiritual sense alone, but through a confluence of data: a minute discrepancy in the dappled shadow pattern ten meters behind him, a stillness in the air current that defied the gentle forest breeze, a complete absence of the tiny life signatures that should have been present in that patch of ferns.
An ambush. Already.
A corner of Yao Xuan's mind coolly approved. 'Someone's aggressive. Or desperate.'
He didn't tense. He softened. His breathing remained even. To the unseen observer, he was a momentarily disoriented student, head slightly tilted as if listening for distant teammates. Internally, he was a coiled spring. Soul power, dense and ready, pooled in his limbs. The newly formed vortex in his heart spun with steady, gathering potential.
The attack, when it came, was a professional's strike. Silent, from the perfect blind spot. A figure materialized from the very shadow at his heels, and a thin, vicious line of condensed darkness—a third soul skill, aiming to incapacitate or sever—lashed towards his throat.
Yao Xuan moved.
It wasn't a dodge. It was an eruption of contained power. Nine-colored light flared briefly around him as his Ancestral Dragon martial soul manifested. Lustrous, resilient dragon scales sheathed his skin. His hands became formidable claws in the space between heartbeats.
He didn't look back. His right claw came up and across in a motion so casually precise it was terrifying. The sharp snick of the dark line severing sounded like a snapped thread.
The attacker's gasp of shock was audible. Yao Xuan finally turned, his golden eyes, now slitted with draconic intensity, locking onto the boy—a thin, pale soul master whose face was a mask of stunned horror. The boy's first instinct was flight; his yellow soul ring flashed as he tried to melt back into the shadows.
"The darkness does not belong to you here," Yao Xuan stated, his voice calm.
He activated Ancestral Dragon Elemental Control. His authority over the fundamental forces, though basic, was absolute within his range. He simply… reclaimed the dark elements in the immediate area. The shadows around the boy didn't just reject him; they seemed to solidify and push him into the light.
The boy stumbled, his stealth skill fizzling into nothingness. His eyes widened into perfect circles of disbelief. "Impossible! You—!"
"You talked too much earlier," Yao Xuan said, his tone almost conversational. "Now you have no time."
He took a single, flowing step forward. The distance closed instantly, a demonstration of speed that had nothing to do with agility and everything to do with explosive, draconic power. His clawed hand didn't strike with fury, but with the inevitability of a falling tree. It was a slap, almost disdainful in its lack of formal technique, backed by 75,000 kilograms of refined strength.
Thump.
The simulated body couldn't handle the kinetic transfer. It vanished in a shower of iridescent particles before even hitting the forest floor.
Silence returned, deeper than before. A faint notification shimmered at the edge of Yao Xuan's consciousness.
'Weak,' Yao Xuan assessed internally, not with arrogance, but with tactical clarity. 'A point ambush specialist. No team support. A poor opening move.' The meager points confirmed it; this was a minor player.
He let his martial soul recede, the scales and claws melting away. The vibrant forest sounds rushed back in. His spiritual senses, momentarily focused on the threat, expanded again, continuing their primary search.
The encounter had taken less than six seconds. It served as a warm-up, a reminder of the competition's stakes, and a quiet declaration to any unseen observers that the forging committee member was not to be trifled with.
His Eye of Insight now actively scanned the environment, reading the terrain's energy flows, searching for the most likely convergence points for teammates, and the subtle disturbances that might mark other clashes. His priority remained unchanged.
'Gu Yue first. Then the others. Then we control the game.'
With a final glance at the spot where his attacker disappeared, Yao Xuan moved deeper into the woods, a ghost of golden intent in the emerald gloom. The competition had truly begun, and he had just drawn first blood.