I was fucking ganked?!

"Draw the evil energy into the body, refine the malevolent aura into a protective barrier."

Situ Xuan's eyelids trembled slightly. Though his eyes were closed, he could clearly sense the trajectory of that cold, sinister energy flowing within him—it did not follow the Ren and Du meridians, nor did it traverse the eight extraordinary vessels; instead, it specifically sought out the narrowest, most minute collateral channels.

The areas that usually avoided the circulation of soul power were now being forcibly breached by the Black Heart Evil Palm's aura, causing pain as bone-scraping as a blade.

Suddenly, the blue veins on his right hand bulged violently, as if being forcibly stretched by some invisible force—this was the "Aura Guidance" of the Black Heart Evil Palm. The level of pain was comparable to death by a thousand cuts, yet Situ Xuan did not even furrow his brow; he simply took a deep breath and clenched his five fingers tight once more!

"Aaaah—!"

He finally could not help but let out a low roar, blood spilling from between his teeth, only to be swallowed up by the black energy a moment later.

"Not enough..."

His left arm also began to twitch, the muscle fibers gradually becoming as hard as iron under the infiltration of the evil energy, with a strange grayish-white keratin covering the surface, resembling scales forcibly mutated into existence.

"Go further!"

He gritted his teeth hard, his pupils suddenly contracting to the size of needle points. Deep within his eyes, strange black patterns spread like living things!

"Click!"

A mysterious sound echoed from within his body.

Level 13 → Level 14!

For Situ Xuan, whose martial soul was his own body, the increase in soul power was felt most clearly.

That power, like a warm current, circulated through his shell again and again—once, twice, three times...

Situ Xuan's entire body trembled slightly as the newly broken-through soul power circulated within him, repairing the injuries brought on by his training. He slowly opened his eyes and suddenly sensed a powerful aura appearing at the entrance of the training ground.

At the doorway, a blue-haired man in white robes stood quietly.

Sunlight cast a faint shadow on the ground through his slender frame. Those ice-blue eyes held a trace of surprise as they carefully sized up the scene.

"Are you... the new teacher?"

The man's voice was as cold as ice. "What happened here? Do you need help?"

Situ Xuan flexed his wrists, his joints emitting a crisp sound. He was stunned for a moment, seemingly realizing that this teacher had been attracted by his low roar just now. "No, I was just training..."

"And I'm not a teacher. Class Three, First Grade, Situ Xuan."

This guy is in the first grade?

The man frowned slightly, his gaze lingering for a moment on Situ Xuan's burly physique, which clearly exceeded that of his peers. He thought of Tang Wulin, who was stronger than his peers even in terms of constitution in his own class, and his face twitched slightly. "Wu Zhangkong. Head teacher of Class Five, First Grade."

Situ Xuan's pupils shrank; he felt the unfathomable power within the other man.

The soul power fluctuations, far purer and more powerful than those of Long Xiuyuan, made the fighting spirit within him boil instantly. The surging power accumulated in his chest from the breakthrough was now almost ready to burst forth.

"Interested in a spar?" Situ Xuan grinned, blood seeping from the wound at the corner of his mouth again.

A flash of surprise crossed Wu Zhangkong's eyes, followed by the corners of his mouth lifting slightly; he was clearly intrigued by such a student. He slowly removed the long white sash from his waist, the silk shimmering with a cold luster in the sunlight. "Please."

Situ Xuan narrowed his eyes, his muscles tensing instantly. He noticed the way Wu Zhangkong held the sash—it was clearly the starting stance of a swordsman. In his hands, this soft, long sash seemed to transform into an indestructible longsword.

"Hah!"

With a violent shout, the Blue Steel Stone floor beneath Situ Xuan's feet shattered. His right fist pierced the air, heading straight for Wu Zhangkong's throat with a sharp whistling sound—

"North Star Dragon Strikes Tiger!"

Wu Zhangkong remained motionless, merely turning his wrist slightly.

The white sash traced a graceful arc in the air like a living thing, precisely intercepting Situ Xuan's fist path.

The moment the two touched, a bone-chilling coldness spread up his fist, and a thin layer of frost instantly formed on Situ Xuan's right arm.

"Playing for real, huh..."

Situ Xuan gave a ferocious grin and swept his left leg out like a whip. "North Star Muscle-Manipulating Free-Form Kick!"

Wu Zhangkong's figure swayed slightly, his toes tapping the ground as he drifted backward like a feather. The sash in his hand transformed into a white streak, stabbing toward Situ Xuan's left ribs at a tricky angle.

"Bang!"

Situ Xuan crossed his arms to block, the massive impact sending him sliding back several meters.

The stinging pain in his arms told him that if not for his tough physical body, this "sword" would likely have already pierced through his defense.

"Interesting!"

Situ Xuan spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, his fighting spirit burning even brighter. He slammed his palms against the ground and launched himself toward Wu Zhangkong again like a cannonball.

This time he changed his strategy, his fist path becoming erratic.

"North Star Soft Rending Slash!" The seemingly rigid and fierce punch suddenly transformed into a soft, palm-blade mid-way, cutting into the gap of the sash's defense.

A trace of appreciation flashed in Wu Zhangkong's eyes, his body tilting slightly to avoid the edge. At the same time, the sash swirled like a spirit snake, drawing a perfect circle in the air and neutralizing all of Situ Xuan's momentum.

"Again!"

Situ Xuan roared, the muscles in his arms bulging, veins coiling like dragons.

"North Star Steel Rending Grip!" His hands formed claws, intending to use brute force to seize the erratic sash.

Wu Zhangkong flicked his wrist, and the sash suddenly became as straight as a sword, stabbing directly at Situ Xuan's heart with astonishing speed. Situ Xuan was forced to abandon the grapple, crossing his arms to take the strike head-on.

"Boom!"

The massive impact forced Situ Xuan to retreat once again, his arms already covered in a thick layer of frost. Yet, instead of being alarmed, he was delighted, violently shaking his arms to shatter the ice crystals: "Exhilarating!"

The two moved rapidly across the training ground. Every punch Situ Xuan threw was heavy and powerful, causing the ground beneath his feet to crack repeatedly.

Meanwhile, Wu Zhangkong maintained an elegant posture throughout. The white belt in his hand acted at times like a long sword thrusting forward, and at others like a soft whip coiling around, neutralizing Situ Xuan's offensive maneuvers one by one.

"Teacher Wu, watch out!"

Situ Xuan suddenly roared, his muscles tensing to their limit. He pulled his right fist back to his waist, channeling all his strength into the strike like a converging river. The tip of his fist glowed with a dark red light due to high-speed friction—

"North Star Face-Breaking Fist!"

The momentum of this punch was immense, the wind of the strike exploding in the air.

Wu Zhangkong was finally moved. He flicked his wrist sharply, and the white belt traced seven afterimages in mid-air, as if seven long swords were thrusting out simultaneously.

"Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop!"

Seven consecutive crisp sounds rang out, and the force of Situ Xuan's punch was weakened layer by layer.

In the end, Wu Zhangkong sidestepped the remaining force, his belt swirling like a white dragon to tap lightly against Situ Xuan's throat.

The arena fell silent, with only the sound of Situ Xuan's heavy breathing echoing. He looked down at the tip of the belt pressed against his throat and grinned: "I lost."

Wu Zhangkong retracted the belt, a complex light flickering in his eyes: "To reach this level with pure physical techniques... interesting." He paused, "What kind of fist technique do you practice?"

"A family technique, not worth mentioning."

Situ Xuan wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, the fire of battle in his eyes still unextinguished: "Another round?"

Wu Zhangkong revealed a rare hint of a smile: "Next time... I look forward to seeing your performance in the Class Promotion Tournament."

With that, he turned and left, his white figure quickly disappearing at the entrance of the training ground.

Situ Xuan gazed in the direction the man had departed, clenching his still-trembling hands.

The joy of clashing with a strong opponent made his blood boil. He secretly swore that next time, he would force this man to show his true capabilities.

However... Wu Zhangkong, Class One-Five...

Situ Xuan seemed to recall something. Those distant memories brought to mind the opponents in his own year at Eastsea Academy who were barely worth noting—Tang Wulin, Gu Yue, and the Martial Soul Fusion Skill state of Wang Jinxi and Zhang Yangzi...

It's getting more and more interesting!

At night, Long Xiuyuan looked at the note left by Situ Xuan, his brows furrowed as he muttered in disbelief: "What the hell? He already finished special training?"

Since the start of the school year, Situ Xuan had never once missed their evening training sessions...

After thinking it over, Long Xiuyuan could only come to one conclusion...

"Did I get cucked?!"