The final round of the grueling night special training had finally come to an end.
Deep into the night, the campus of East Sea Academy was silent, save for the faint hum of energy. A few Soul Guidance lamps floated quietly over the playground, casting a dim, hazy glow through the darkness. A light mist had begun to rise from the ground, mixing with the heavy, rhythmic breathing of the three young students to create a surreal atmosphere under the moonlight.
Xie Xie stood with his hands on his hips, shaking his aching wrists to work out the stiffness. Despite the exhaustion, his eyes shone with a startling brightness, and a hint of a smug, self-satisfied grin played on his lips.
"With our current strength, taking on three opponents at once in the Class Promotion Tournament shouldn't be a problem, right?" Xie Xie asked, his voice echoing slightly in the empty field.
He looked over at his teammates, Tang Wulin and Gu Yue, with a confident smirk. "Honestly, I think those guys in the other classes aren't even qualified to be our sparring partners anymore!".
Tang Wulin exhaled a deep, long breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He could feel the surging Bloodline Power within him, a golden heat that coursed through his veins and washed away his fatigue. A trace of undeniable confidence flashed in his eyes.
Although he didn't say it outright like the boisterous Xie Xie, Tang Wulin knew very well in his heart that they had changed. After Wu Changkong's rigorous, hellish training during this period, the progress of the three of them far exceeded the level of ordinary students. The gap between them and their peers had perhaps already widened significantly.
Gu Yue stood a little apart, her expression cool. She glanced indifferently at Xie Xie, but although she didn't speak, the slight, upward curve of her lips betrayed her inner thoughts. She was always calm and rational, but at this moment, a sense of pride inevitably stirred in her heart.
They were the bottom-ranked Class Five, the class everyone looked down upon. But so what?.
Tonight's special training had proven a fundamental truth: the three of them working together possessed enough power to challenge much stronger opponents.
"The end of training isn't for you to lose yourselves in arrogance."
A voice rang out abruptly, cutting through their celebration like a blade of ice. It was cold as frost and devoid of warmth.
Wu Changkong had appeared in the shadows at some unknown time. His slender figure was outlined by the pale moonlight, making him look like a ghost. He walked forward slowly, sweeping a sharp, critical gaze over the three of them.
His tone carried a heavy warning: "Progress in strength is a good thing, but despising your opponents is the path to self-destruction."
Xie Xie, feeling a bit deflated but still high on adrenaline, stuck out his tongue playfully and muttered softly, "But Teacher, we really are strong...".
Before he could even finish his sentence, an invisible pressure suddenly descended upon him. It was heavy and suffocating, frightening him into quickly shutting his mouth and standing at attention.
Wu Changkong snorted coldly. The warning in his eyes was self-evident.
However, beneath that icy exterior, there was something the students didn't see. Unlike the blind confidence of the three youngsters, a faint worry was revealed in the depths of Wu Changkong's eyes.
His mind drifted back to what he had witnessed that afternoon. He recalled that incredibly lean boy from Class Three. He remembered that fiercely aggressive fist technique and the all-around flawless, tough physical strength the boy displayed.
If he wasn't mistaken, this student from Class 1-3 would likely become their most troublesome opponent in the tournament.
He thought of Situ Xuan's appearance—a student who seemed undaunted by hardship or peril, training diligently while others rested.
Then, Wu Changkong looked back at the laughing Xie Xie, who didn't take anyone else seriously. For no reason, a surge of irritation rose in Wu Changkong's chest.
"Extra training tonight," Wu Changkong announced suddenly.
"Gu Yue, you spar with Tang Wulin," he ordered. Then, he slowly turned his gaze to the boy with the dagger Spirit. "Xie Xie. You, spar with me!".
The smile on Xie Xie's face froze instantly. His Adam's apple bobbed unnaturally as he gulped.
Teacher Wu Changkong sparring personally?
This was practically asking for half his life! It was a death sentence!.
He looked frantically to his two companions for help, hoping for an intervention. Instead, he found Tang Wulin looking down and flexing his wrists, preparing for his own fight, while Gu Yue had already silently retreated to the edge of the training field. A faint silver glow was already binding her fingertips—clearly, both were prepared to start the night training immediately and leave Xie Xie to his fate.
"Thud!"
Wu Changkong didn't wait. He raised his hand and delivered a sharp knife-hand strike through the air.
Xie Xie hurriedly raised his arms to block the incoming pressure, but he was still shaken back three steps by the force. The numbness that instantly spread through his right arm made him grimace in pain. He realized with horror that the teacher was playing for keeps tonight.
"You dare to be distracted during combat?" Wu Changkong shouted coldly.
His white training uniform traced sharp lines in the moonlight as he advanced. "Show me the arrogance you had just now!".
Much later, the moon hung high in the sky.
"Still training this late?"
The heavy door of Training Room C7 was pushed open. Wu Changkong stepped inside, his brow furrowing slightly.
Seeing Situ Xuan standing there, drenched in sweat, he asked with some surprise and confusion, "Where is Teacher Long?".
Situ Xuan didn't panic. He looked at the handsome man with snow-white clothes and ice-blue long hair standing in the doorway. Unfazed by the intrusion, he turned back to his work and familiarly replaced the Soul Guidance Core for the battered iron Puppet in front of him.
"Imprisoned Dragon went on a date with his fiancée," Situ Xuan replied casually, using Long Xiuyuan's title. "Today is my day off."
Although he said it was a day off, Situ Xuan actually didn't know what to do with free time. After thinking about it, he had decided to spend the whole day practicing in the training room anyway.
Hearing the word "fiancée," a flash of intense loneliness crossed Wu Changkong's eyes. It was a fleeting look of pain, as if the lovely person who once smiled at him was appearing before his eyes again, only to vanish.
"Hey, Teacher Wu."
After replacing the Soul Guidance Core and ensuring the puppet was operational, Situ Xuan turned his head fully.
He saw the look on the man's face. Seeing Wu Changkong's melancholic look, he spoke up, deciding to break the mood. "Want to have a match?".
Situ Xuan wiped his forehead and continued, his voice blunt but honest. "I don't know how to give grand lectures, and I'm too lazy to try. Instead of reminiscing there, why don't you give some guidance to this good student of mine?".
Hearing Situ Xuan's bold words, Wu Changkong's ice-blue eyes froze for a moment. Then, a bitter, self-deprecating smile touched his lips.
His slender fingers unconsciously brushed over his waist. He touched the spot where a jade pendant used to hang—a precious item that had lost its owner forever on a certain snowy night.
"I didn't expect..." Wu Changkong whispered.
His voice dropped a few octaves, carrying a heavy weight of self-deprecation. "To actually be lectured by a little kid."
The moonlight spilled diagonally through the high window of the training room, stretching his shadow long across the floor. In that instant, a sense of ancient exhaustion—one that Tang Wulin and the others had never seen before—emerged from this eternally aloof man.
But in the next moment, the melancholy vanished. Wu Changkong suddenly looked up, his eyes sharpening into dangerous points of light. His fingers were already pressing on his belt buckle.
"Clang—"
A crisp metallic resonance rang out through the room. The black belt he wore glinted coldly under the moonlight.
With a flick of Wu Changkong's wrist, the entire belt straightened out like a living thing. Ice crystals spread from the hilt at a speed visible to the naked eye, covering the material and transforming it into a three-foot-long icy soft sword in an instant.
He tapped the tip of the sword lightly on the ground.
Instantly, the temperature in the training room plummeted. A layer of thin frost began condensing on the floor, spreading outward from his feet. His long ice-blue hair fluttered slightly under the surge of his Spirit Power.
The moment the sword tip pointed at Situ Xuan, the entire space seemed to fall silent.
"Let me see," Wu Changkong's voice became cold once more, shedding his personal grief for the persona of a warrior. "Just how much weight the most hardworking student of East Sea Academy actually carries.".
Situ Xuan's grin stretched to his ears. It was a ferocious smile, full of battle lust, that didn't belong on a teenager at all.
The moonlight shone on his lean, muscular body. Beneath his skin, the pattern of the Big Dipper faintly shimmered, glowing with a mysterious energy. His pupils contracted to the size of pinpricks, and the aura emanating from his body began to distort the surrounding air with its intensity.
"Then..."
While the last word was still vibrating in the air, Situ Xuan's figure had already vanished from the spot.
The metal floor beneath his feet groaned under the unbearable weight of his launch. Two clear footprints sank into the steel, with web-like cracks appearing at the edges where he had stood just a fraction of a second ago.
"...please guide me!"
The moment the voice fell, Situ Xuan had already appeared less than a meter in front of Wu Changkong.
His speed was terrifying. His right fist was retracted to his waist, his muscles pulled tight like steel cables. Visible air currents swirled violently around his knuckles as he prepared to strike.
"Big Dipper Dragon Strikes Tiger!".
It was the same opening move as always, the same punch as always. This punch had no flourishes; it was the purest, simplest straight punch imaginable.
But simplicity did not mean weakness. Wherever the fist passed, the air was compressed to the extreme, letting out a piercing sonic boom that screamed through the room.
What was even more terrifying was the potential hidden within. While this punch seemed straightforward, it actually contained seventy-two variations of follow-up moves. No matter how the opponent blocked or dodged, the subsequent attacks would follow like a shadow, relentless and inescapable.
A flash of genuine surprise crossed Wu Changkong's eyes, but his hands didn't slow down at all.
The ice sword slashed down at a tricky angle to intercept the blow. Where the blade passed, the moisture in the air instantly condensed into tiny, razor-sharp icicles.