Aftermath and Ascendancy
A flicker of genuine surprise crossed Yao Xuan's features as the dust settled. The Netherworld White Tiger form lay broken, but not disintegrated. Wu Siduo, within the fading beast, still clung to consciousness. His strike had carried the weight to shatter a Soul King's defense; her fusion skill had absorbed the lethal impact, distributing the ruin throughout its form instead of letting it pierce the core. It was a testament to the incredible structural integrity of her self-created fusion.
'Impressive resilience,' he acknowledged internally, a spark of respect kindling beside his tactical analysis. 'With the right guidance, she wouldn't just be a powerhouse; she'd be a pillar.'
Respect didn't mean hesitation. The competition demanded conclusion. As the mangled tiger tried to rise on shattered limbs, Yao Xuan moved again. A second Ancestral Dragon Sky-Splitting Strike, this one controlled, precise, and mercifully swift, descended. The golden claw landed not with crushing force, but with a final, decisive tap on the beast's skull. The simulation registered the knockout blow. The magnificent Netherworld White Tiger dissolved into a cascade of light, leaving Wu Siduo's unconscious simulated form for a moment before it too vanished.
The points were substantial, reflecting her unique caliber. Yao Xuan let his transformation recede, the scales and claws melting away, the fierce light in his eyes softening into their usual calm depth. He turned and walked back to his team, the crumbled earth and shattered trees silent witnesses to the brief, violent climax.
"Captain," Xu Xiaoyan breathed out, her eyes wide. "That… that tiger was incredible! Was that really a Soul Fusion skill she did by herself?"
Yao Xuan nodded, coming to stand beside Gu Yue. Her shoulder brushed his arm, a subtle point of contact that grounded him. "A Self-Soul Fusion Technique. It's exceedingly rare. It requires not just twin martial souls, but a perfect, personal harmony between them. Her power is genuine." He glanced at Gu Yue, including her in the assessment. "She turned two distinct, potent legacies into a new, unified whole. It's a formidable path."
Gu Yue's silver eyes were thoughtful. "The fusion was unstable at the edges. The Netherworld and Tiger energies were competing as much as cooperating. With refinement, its efficiency could increase by thirty percent." Her analysis was clinical, but she shot Yao Xuan a look that held a different question. You saw it too. The potential.
He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. Yes, he had.
Their final sweep through the dwindling simulation was anticlimactic. The remaining students, having sensed the cataclysmic energy of Yao Xuan's clash with Wu Siduo, offered little more than token resistance or simply surrendered. The Zero Class team moved with the quiet authority of inevitability.
Then, light.
The world dissolved into a pure, featureless white, then rushed back into the familiar confines of the simulation pod. The hatch hissed open. Yao Xuan blinked, his senses recalibrating to the real world—the cool air of the circular hall, the soft hum of dormant pods, the faint smell of ozone and polished metal.
As he climbed out, he felt the weight of collective attention. Nearly a hundred pairs of eyes tracked his every movement. The gazes were a complex mix: raw awe from those he'd effortlessly defeated, burning determination from the few who saw a new summit to climb (Luo Guixing, Yang Nianxia, and the others, now a solidified group near the back), and deep-seated respect from the rest. He was no longer just a classmate; he was a force they had all, directly or indirectly, felt.
The notification was satisfying, a solid return on the expended effort. But a second, subtler chime followed.
A daily income. However small, it was a foundation, a system acknowledging the strategic value of influence and respect. He filed the information away, his expression remaining one of calm composure.
Wu Changkong's voice cut through the murmurs, cool and definitive. "The competition is concluded. The class monitor for the first-year cohort is Yao Xuan. Are there any objections?"
The silence that followed was absolute, heavier than any shout of acclamation. No one raised a hand. No one even shifted uncomfortably. The verdict was unanimous, written in the memory of shattered shields, dispersed spatial prisons, and a dissolved Netherworld White Tiger.
"Very well," Wu Changkong said. "Yao Xuan, you may now appoint one vice class monitor."
Yao Xuan didn't need to glance at his team. His voice was clear and carried no hint of debate. "I choose Gu Yue."
A soft ripple passed through the crowd, but no surprise. Their partnership had been evident to all—in their seamless coordination in the forest, in the way they stood together now. Gu Yue, for her part, merely inclined her head in acceptance, her serene expression unchanging, though a warmth deep in her silver eyes was for Yao Xuan alone.
"Gu Yue is appointed first vice monitor," Wu Changkong confirmed. "The second vice monitor will be selected by the instructors based on overall performance and leadership displayed during the competition." He paused, his gaze scanning the room, letting the anticipation build before landing on a solid, steady figure. "Tang Wulin."
A wave of confused whispers broke out. Tang Wulin? The name wasn't on the Young Genius list. He hadn't delivered any single, spectacular blow. But those who had fought beside him, or against him, remembered the unyielding anvil to Yao Xuan's hammer, the relentless pressure of his Bluesilver Grass, the solid, dependable presence that never wavered.
"Tang Wulin," Wu Changkong repeated. "Step forward."
Tang Wulin did so, his stride confident but without arrogance. He faced his classmates, his expression earnest. "I'm Tang Wulin. I'll do my best to support the class."
"Return to your position," Wu Changkong instructed, and Tang Wulin obeyed, receiving respectful nods from Xie Xie and Xu Xiaoyan.
"Thus," Wu Changkong announced, "the class leadership for this semester is established: Monitor, Yao Xuan. Vice Monitors, Gu Yue and Tang Wulin. Remember, these positions are re-evaluated each semester. Strength, leadership, and contribution determine their holders."
He let that sink in, a promise of continued competition. "Now, we will hold elections for the remaining committee positions: Manufacturing Committee Member and Repair Committee Member. All students with a verified second profession skill at rank two or higher are eligible to participate. Those who do not wish to contend may depart."
The atmosphere shifted again, from the aftermath of combat to the quieter, but no less intense, arena of craft and skill. As students began to murmur and move, some heading for the exits, others gathering into new, evaluative groups, Yao Xuan felt a gentle pressure against his hand. Gu Yue's fingers had found his, their touch brief but speaking volumes in the crowded hall—a silent we did it, and a quieter, unspoken the real work begins now. He curled his fingers around hers for a fleeting moment before releasing, a private pact sealed amidst the public triumph. The path of the class monitor was before him, and she would be walking it by his side.