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"Fang Yang… actually blocked Teacher Wu's attack?!"
The entire Class Five erupted in shock!
Students gaped in disbelief at the slender figure standing calmly at the center of the training field.
How terrifying was Teacher Wu's Skyfrost Sword's chill?
Yet not only did Fang Yang dissolve it with flame—he'd even dodged that lethal sword strike in the blink of an eye!
"So strong!"
"That's Teacher Wu we're talking about!"
From the crowd, someone suddenly shouted:
"Fang Yang, my idol! I'll bear your children!"
The class burst into laughter.
At the front, Tang Wulin and Xie Xie stood rigid, fists clenched—knuckles white.
Just how deep did Fang Yang's strength go?
In the arena, Fang Yang's breathing grew slightly ragged. He stared intently at Wu Zhangkong—not daring to relax for even a second.
He took a deep breath. Soul power surged within him like a rising tide.
Then—a purple soul ring ascended from beneath his feet, orbiting his body with quiet majesty.
"What?! A thousand-year soul ring?!"
Tang Wulin's pupils contracted violently. Xie Xie gasped aloud.
The class exploded into chaos.
They never imagined Fang Yang possessed a thousand-year soul ring!
"That's a thousand-year ring!"
They'd only ever heard stories—never seen one in person.
For these mostly ordinary-born students, such a thing was mythical.
Most would go their whole lives without even obtaining a hundred-year soul spirit, let alone a thousand-year one.
And yet—Fang Yang's very first soul ring was a thousand-year grade!
Tang Wulin's heart pounded. No wonder… Fang Yang could so casually lend me a soul spirit back then…
Xie Xie's eyes flickered with calculation. As a scion of a major family, he understood the implications better than most.
"This guy… his background must be extraordinary."
Zhou Zhangxi—who'd once clashed with Fang Yang—stood pale as death, his back soaked in cold sweat.
"What kind of monster did I provoke…?" He cursed himself inwardly. "If Heaven gave me another chance… I'd never dare act arrogant again!"
"First Soul Skill: Fire Lotus Explosion!"
Fang Yang's voice cut through the air.
Flame surged in his palm—and a fire lotus instantly took form.
Deep golden-yellow petals, vivid and lifelike, pulsed with terrifying thermal energy.
Thanks to the Flame Mantra, such flame control was effortless for him.
Wu Zhangkong's eyes glinted. With a flick of his wrist, the Skyfrost Sword slashed midair.
CLANG!
The moment sword met lotus, soul power clashed.
The fire lotus was precisely deflected—and detonated midair!
Scorching shockwaves rippled outward—
but Wu Zhangkong raised a hand, and freezing aura extinguished the flames instantly.
"Not bad reaction," Wu Zhangkong said coolly—though a flicker of approval passed through his eyes.
"But your control over soul skills still lacks refinement."
Internally, he was stunned.
As a Shrek Academy graduate, he'd seen countless prodigies.
Yet even at Shrek, those who absorbed a thousand-year soul ring as their first were exceedingly rare.
"Looks like being assigned to Class Five… was actually a stroke of luck."
His emerald eyes gleamed. The Skyfrost Sword trembled slightly—he was now fully serious.
Fang Yang panted softly, sweat beading on his brow.
"The pressure is immense!"
Wu Zhangkong was absolutely right—he'd barely practiced his soul skills since fusing his soul spirit and breaking through.
"Fang Yang—watch closely!" Wu Zhangkong's voice rose sharply. "This is how a soul skill should be used!"
His first soul ring flared to life—deep yellow light solidifying into tangible energy.
"First Soul Skill: Frost Scar!"
The Skyfrost Sword quivered—and in an instant, dozens of ice-blue sword beams rained down like a storm!
"So fast!"
Fang Yang's eyes widened. Soul power roared—and multiple fire lotuses bloomed in his palms.
"Fire Lotus Explosion!"
He hurled the lotuses forward.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Ice met fire—deafening explosions shook the field.
A thick cloud of steam erupted, shrouding the arena in dense fog.
Using the mist as cover, Fang Yang's blood surged. His body darted like a phantom!
His second purple soul ring ignited.
"Second Soul Skill: Annihilation Collapse!"
His right fist, wreathed in flame of utter destruction, shot straight for Wu Zhangkong's chest!
From the fog came Wu Zhangkong's calm voice:
"Not bad… but still far from enough."
Before the words faded, his second soul ring flared.
"Second Soul Skill: Frost Mist!"
Bone-chilling cold erupted from his body like a shockwave.
Fang Yang's fist—just half a foot from its target—slowed as if trapped in a mire.
Worse—the frost crawled up his arm, instantly encasing his fist in a layer of ice!
The watching students shivered in unison.
Xie Xie sucked in a sharp breath. "That slow effect… it's downright nasty!"
Tang Wulin watched the battle intently, eyes swirling with complex thoughts.
Just as Fang Yang began channeling Heavenly Flame to shatter the ice—
"That's enough."
Wu Zhangkong retracted his Skyfrost Sword.
The freezing aura vanished instantly.
Rarely, a trace of approval touched his icy face.
"This match… I lost."
Fang Yang bowed deeply. "Thank you, Teacher Wu, for holding back!"
Wu Zhangkong raised a hand, voice still cold. "I didn't hold back. You simply survived three moves."
He paused, emerald eyes locking onto Fang Yang.
"Your martial soul… that flame is no ordinary fire."
"Everyone—assemble!"
Wu Zhangkong turned to the field, his voice dropping to subzero.
The students scrambled into formation, tension thick in the air.
His glacial gaze swept over them.
"Now that the matches are over—do you know what impression you've left on me?"
His words cut like ice:
"Rotten wood—impossible to carve!"
The statement struck like a hammer—several girls' eyes welled with tears.
"No wonder you were all dumped into Class Five. You really are trash."
His voice held no pity.
"But even if you're scrap metal, I'll forge you into steel."
He continued: "From these matches, I see your physical constitutions are abysmal.
Given your weak martial souls and poor physical bodies—starting tomorrow, we begin physical training."
"Mornings: conditioning. Afternoons: theory."
The class exchanged uneasy glances. Some turned pale.
They knew—hellish training awaited them.
"Fang Yang, Tang Wulin, Xie Xie—stay. Everyone else, dismissed."
At Wu Zhangkong's command, the dejected students filed out.
Several girls glanced back at Fang Yang, eyes shining with admiration.
When the last student vanished, Wu Zhangkong turned toward the office.
"You three—follow me."
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