The next day, at the dueling arena—
"Who wants to go first?"
Mujin stood at the edge of the platform, scanning her students. Beside her stood another female instructor.
But at her question, the entire Class Nine averted their eyes—no one dared meet her gaze.
Because standing on the dueling platform was Chen Junting.
A flicker of helplessness crossed Chen Junting's eyes as he surveyed his classmates below. Not a single one would look him in the eye—each clearly terrified of being picked for a beating.
Before this combat class even began, Mujin had already pulled him aside and explained the situation.
The goal of this session was to measure three key metrics: technique, reaction speed, and combat experience.
But Chen Junting's strength was so far beyond his peers that no single student could provide meaningful data in a one-on-one duel. And having a teacher fight him would be inappropriate. So Mujin had devised a new rule: Chen Junting would be the defending champion, and his classmates would take turns challenging him. Multiple rounds would yield accurate data—and force the others to fight at full strength.
Yet now… no one wanted to be first.
After all, many had witnessed Chen Junting's victory over a fifth-year senior. If that prodigy fell…
What hope did they have? It'd just be voluntary humiliation.
But Mujin wouldn't let them off so easily.
Her eyes swept the crowd. "Wang Dong—you're up."
As the class's most vocal anti-soul-guided-device rebel, he was the obvious first target. (Mujin assured herself this wasn't personal revenge.)
Wang Dong's face stiffened.
Memories of being crushed by Chen Junting's killing intent flashed in his mind.
But once named, he had no choice.
Gritting his teeth, he stepped onto the platform.
Chen Junting's expression remained impassive. A flash of light—and the Seven Kill Sword materialized in his hand. "Don't worry. I won't use soul skills at first. No need to panic. Begin!"
"Who said I was panicking?!" Wang Dong snapped, instantly fired up. His earlier fear vanished, replaced by burning determination. 'This is my chance to reclaim my pride!'
But in the next heartbeat—
The Seven Kill Sword lunged toward him.
Wang Dong barely twisted aside, stumbling awkwardly. Before he could accuse Chen Junting of "no honor," he frantically activated his martial soul.
He tried to take flight, escaping Chen Junting's range—but the Seven Kill Sword moved like a homing curse, anticipating his escape route. The blade blocked his ascent, its tip drawing ever closer.
Below, Mujin watched coldly—and wrote in Wang Dong's "combat experience" column:
"Wastes time talking at fight's start. Falls instantly into opponent's rhythm."
On the platform, Wang Dong realized his position was worsening.
"I can't let him continue!"
"Hah—!"
A golden aura flared across his wings. His first soul ring ignited. In an instant, his arms fused with his forewings, forming radiant Wing Scythes that clashed against the Seven Kill Sword. The impact's force let him flip backward—but the scythes shattered under the sword's edge.
"Hahahaha! Now it's my turn!"
His Light Goddess Butterfly wings beat violently. Golden soul power jetted from the orbs on his wings, rocketing him skyward. Now hovering above Chen Junting, Wang Dong's eyes blazed with excitement.
"Second Soul Skill: Butterfly God's Light!"
His purple soul ring blazed. Azure wings erupted with brilliance. Golden sigils ignited like miniature suns, unleashing a storm of radiant orbs that rained down on Chen Junting!
Facing this onslaught, Chen Junting remained calm—but activated his first soul skill.
With a flick of his wrist, the Seven Kill Sword tapped each incoming orb, popping them like soap bubbles. Then, channeling soul power through the "Kill" Character Mantra, he wove the remaining orbs into a sword beam—and hurled them back at Wang Dong!
"What?!"
Wang Dong's eyes widened. He slashed desperately with his wings, barely deflecting the counterattack. His face paled, and his flight grew unsteady.
Just then—
Shhhk—!
A sword beam shot skyward!
As it neared Wang Dong—
"Stop!"
Mujin appeared, shattering the beam with a sweep of her hand.
Simultaneously, a delicate floral scent filled the air. A petal-shaped white light descended from above, gently merging into Wang Dong's pale form.
Instantly, refreshing energy surged through him. His stamina replenished; only his soul power remained drained.
But his eyes locked onto the female instructor's hand—holding a pink begonia flower. He gasped. "Nine-Heart Begonia?! Teacher, you're really pulling out the big guns!"
"Of course I am," Mujin laughed, shooting him a mock glare. She turned to the other teacher. "Ye ye, thank you."
"No problem. Let your students continue."
"Right."
After sending Wang Dong off to reflect, Mujin's gaze landed on a frail-looking student. The boy's face fell instantly.
"Gao Ming—you're next."
Gao Ming raised a trembling hand. "Teacher… I'm just a support-type soul master. Do I really have to fight Senior Chen?"
"Why wouldn't you?" Mujin flipped her wrist—and several soul-guided devices appeared. "Everyone gets tested, which means everyone fights. And in real combat? Enemies prioritize support-types."
"Besides," she added, tossing him a soul-guided raygun, "you've got soul-guided weapons as an offense. True, you can't use them in the freshman assessment—but I can still gauge your reaction speed, combat instincts, and… escape tactics."
Gao Ming trudged onto the platform, shoulders slumped. He looked at Chen Junting and whispered, "Senior Chen… go easy on me."
"Heh. Don't worry," Chen Junting said gently.
The next instant—
He vanished.
All Gao Ming saw was a streak of cold steel…
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