Wang Qi smiled brilliantly. "I just leveled up, and he delivered himself right to my door so I could get a feel for my newfound power! What kind of spirit is that?"
"It's the spirit of sacrificing oneself for others... You think this old man would say that?! Knowing full well he's a shit-stirring stick and still rushing in—you transformed from a dung beetle or something?"
"No, no, no! I think if we make him suffer a hidden loss, the academy higher-ups will probably turn a blind eye."
Just then, the two facing each other made a new move.
Du Bin suddenly thrust his longsword forward. Mao Zimiao's already taut nerves snapped at once, and she pounced on Du Bin.
"Damn!" With a thought, Wang Qi unleashed his movement technique and rushed over.
The disciple who had been speaking with Wang Qi only felt his vision go dark. The classmate beside him vanished. Then, at the center of the crowd, where the Half-Demon and human had been confronting each other, a baffling scene unfolded.
Mao Zimiao, who had been imposing just moments ago, now clutched her ears and stumbled back several steps, her pretty face flushed crimson. That flush was not born of anger; it looked more like shame and indignation. Du Bin, meanwhile, stood there dumbly as the sword in his hand suddenly flew free, sailed over the crowd, and embedded itself in a table.
"What happened?" The onlookers began whispering among themselves. A few students with higher cultivation seemed to have caught fragments of what had happened, and before long, everyone pieced together a rough replay of the incident.
Wang Qi turned a deaf ear to the discussions around him. Keeping his radiant smile, he raised two fingers at Mao Zimiao in greeting. "Yo!"
If what had just