Rivals Converge
The forest clearing was quiet once more, save for the faint hum of dissipating energy. As the notification of 275 Golden Evolution Points registered, Yao Xuan felt a pulse of satisfaction, not from the points themselves, but from the efficient resolution of a genuine threat. Xu Yucheng's power had been real, a chilling scythe of finality. Overcoming it cleanly was a validation of his path.
His gaze shifted to the two remaining Sun Moon Academy students. They stood frozen, their faces pale masks of disbelief, their earlier confidence utterly shattered. They weren't enemies; they were witnesses to a paradigm shift.
"Now," Yao Xuan said, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable finality, "it's your turn."
He didn't gloat. He didn't need to. His movement was a continuation of the same principle he'd just demonstrated: overwhelming efficiency. A tap of his foot, a blur of nine-colored light, and he was behind them. The Ancestral Dragon Saint-Slaying Spear, still faintly gleaming in his hand, lashed out twice—precise, economical strikes to the back. Two soft thuds, two bursts of white light. Another 100 points.
He let the spear vanish and walked back to his team. The encounter was over.
Outside the simulation pods, the real world was a chorus of stunned silence and sharp intakes of breath in the monitoring chamber.
Xu Yucheng's pod hissed open. He didn't surge out in anger. He moved slowly, pushing the lid up with a trembling hand, his face even paler than usual. He sat up, his gray eyes staring blankly at the opposite wall for a long moment. "A single move…" he whispered to himself, the dry rustle of his voice filled with a new, hollow quality. "I couldn't… even perceive the flaw."
A shadow fell across his pod. Yang Nianxia stood there, his broad shoulders slumped, a complex mix of frustration and grim understanding on his face. "You too, huh? Yao Xuan?"
Xu Yucheng looked up, a bitter smile twisting his lips. "The forger. He didn't just break my attack. He broke the concept behind it. Who… what is he?"
"Teacher Shen says he's a disciple of the Heavenly Phoenix Douluo," Yang Nianxia rumbled, crossing his arms. "A 'special case.' Says we shouldn't measure ourselves against him." He spat the words, not in defiance of Shen Yi, but in frustration at his own limits.
"A special case…" Xu Yucheng echoed, the words tasting strange. Then, something hardened in his void-like eyes. The shock began to crystallize into a different emotion—not resentment, but a cold, sharp curiosity. "A benchmark, then."
"That's what I was thinking," Yang Nianxia said, a spark rekindling in his own gaze. "He's set a standard. Our grade is called the strongest in decades. He's the proof. We shouldn't despair; we should aim." He glanced at Xu Yucheng. "Think Luo Guixing and Wu Siduo could take him? One on one?"
Xu Yucheng considered it, then shook his head slowly. "Individually? No. His comprehension is… different. But together? The four of us, perhaps. A coordinated assault, exploiting different angles."
"An anti-Yao team?" Yang Nianxia's eyebrows rose, then a rough grin spread across his face. "I like it. A goal. Something to train for."
"May I join this… goal?" A new voice, cool and laced with lingering venom, interjected. Zheng Yiran approached, her emerald eyes still smarting from her own swift defeat, but now burning with a determined fire. "He made my poison seem like water. I need to understand why. I need to overcome that."
The three of them looked at each other—the unyielding Dark Gold Bear, the ephemeral Death Scythe, the toxic Azure Serpent. They were top talents, used to standing alone at the peak of their respective pyramids. Now, they found common ground not in shared victory, but in shared, decisive defeat. It was a humbling, unifying force.
"Welcome," Xu Yucheng said, his voice regaining some of its dry certainty. "We train. We observe. We find a way."
Nearby, observing the exchange, Shen Yi allowed a small, satisfied smile to touch his lips. This was the Shrek spirit. Failure was not an end; it was the most potent fertilizer for growth. These students weren't breaking; they were forging a new resolve against a newly discovered mountain. It was perfect.
Back inside the simulated forest, Yao Xuan's team moved with purpose. The sporadic encounters that followed were brief, decisive affairs against scattered, often demoralized students. Yao Xuan, Gu Yue, Tang Wulin, Xie Xie, and Zhang Yangzi functioned as a seamless unit. Gu Yue's elemental control shaped the battlefield, Tang Wulin was the immovable object, Xie Xie the untraceable projectile, Zhang Yangsi's Bluesilver Grass provided versatile control, and Yao Xuan was the decisive spearhead. They communicated in glances and short codes, their trust deepening with each successful engagement.
Thirty minutes into the competition, the artificial sky above them shimmered.
A voice, amplified and cool—Wu Changkong's—boomed across the entire forest dimension, bypassing ears to resonate directly in their consciousness.
"Remaining participants: forty-eight. In five minutes, the viable terrain will shrink by fifty percent. Prepare for consolidation."
The message was clear. The wandering phase was over. The battle was now funneling all remaining power towards a central, inevitable clash.
Yao Xuan raised a fist, halting the team's advance. "We stop here. Rest, recalibrate. The final stage begins now."
They found a small, defensible knoll surrounded by thick, ancient trees. Yao Xuan and Gu Yue sat side by side on a moss-covered log, their shoulders not quite touching but their presence a mutual anchor. No words were needed. He could feel the steady, analytical hum of her spirit, planning for the compressed battlefield. He focused inward, feeling the soul power vortex spin, topping off his reserves, the Eye of Insight passively mapping the subtle shifts in the forest's energy as the system prepared to alter the terrain.
Tang Wulin checked his arms, cracking his knuckles. Xie Xie flitted through the shadows around the knoll, establishing perimeter awareness. Zhang Yangzi took deep breaths, centering himself.
Five minutes passed in tense, productive silence.
Then, the world lurched.
A profound dizziness, a sense of the ground falling away while simultaneously staying still. The light twisted, colors bleeding into impossible spectrums before snapping back into focus. It was over in a second.
They were no longer on the knoll.
They stood in a denser, darker part of the forest. The trees were closer together, the canopy thicker, casting the space below in deep, shifting shadows. The air felt heavier, more charged. The sound of distant combat—crashes, shouts, bursts of energy—was suddenly much clearer, coming from multiple, closer directions.
The circle had shrunk. The remaining forty-eight were now pressed into half the space.
Yao Xuan rose to his feet, his golden eyes scanning the new, tighter terrain. His Eye of Insight immediately began identifying multiple strong energy signatures within a few hundred meters. One cluster, in particular, burned brightly—a mix of radiant holy light and dense, dual-powered earth and demonic energy.
He found Gu Yue's gaze. She gave a single, slight nod, her silver eyes already locked in the same direction.
"They're close," Yao Xuan said, his voice low and steady, a conductor readying his orchestra for the crescendo. "Le Zhengyu. Yuanen Yehui. It's time."
The final act of the class monitor competition had begun. The hunt was over. Now came the war for the crown.