One Punch

"You won't need three moves." Yan's voice was not loud, yet it rang clearly in everyone's ears. "One move. If you can take it, I'll leave."

"Arrogant!" The crew-cut boy's expression darkened. A mere student who had gotten in through connections dared to be more arrogant than him?

Furious, he laughed instead. "Fine, one move it is. Let's see what you're really capable of!"

With a low shout, two yellow and one purple Soul Rings lit up beneath the crew-cut boy's feet, and his Martial Soul Possession activated in an instant.

A layer of earth-yellow, rocklike armor covered his arms and chest. His aura was thick and steady; it was clearly a beast Martial Soul that excelled in defense. No wonder he had scoffed at Yan's words.

"First Soul Skill, Rock Armor Protection!"

He crossed his arms before his chest, Soul Power surging as the stone armor grew even more solid, its weighty presence unmistakable.

Though he spoke with contempt, he did not hold back when he acted. He used a Soul Skill from the very start.

Clearly, he wanted to overwhelm his opponent with sheer force, drive him into despair, and give Yan a brutal lesson.

"Jiao Yang, aren't you bullying him too much? You're even using a Soul Skill. Aren't you afraid you'll scare the little brother into tears?"

A burst of laughter rose from the classroom. A three-ring Soul Elder ranked among the best even in the Core Class.

Those who could joke with him like that were all among the strongest students in the Core Class.

"If I don't make him understand the gap between us, I'm afraid this kid still won't accept it!"

Jiao Yang, the crew-cut boy, snorted but did not bother explaining further.

He intended to bully him. He wanted this brat who did not know his place to understand just how high the heavens were!

"Are you ready?"

Yet Yan remained calm at the sight.

"Quit talking nonsense. Come!"

To Jiao Yang, Yan's indifference was no different from admitting that he had recognized the gap between them and was ready to surrender.

Yan said nothing more. He did not even activate his Martial Soul or draw upon his Soul Power.

He stepped out from his seat and walked up to Jiao Yang. Taking half a step forward, he drew back his right fist to his waist, then threw a simple punch.

Yan did not use his full punching strength in this strike, but it was still so fast that Jiao Yang could barely catch its trajectory.

The instant the fist shot out, the air seemed to be sucked dry, releasing a low, booming howl.

Where the fist wind passed, the air itself seemed to turn scorching hot, erupting with a pure sense of power.

Jiao Yang immediately sensed that something was wrong. Soul Power and physical strength surged through him as the rocky armor over his body became even thicker and denser. He had already used all his strength to defend.

Yet at the instant the fist struck him, when that explosive force blasted through his protective armor and into his body, he realized that he had still underestimated the punch's power.

Bang!

An incomparably dull impact exploded through the classroom, like a heavy hammer smashing into a solid iron block.

A teeth-grating crack followed immediately after.

Jiao Yang let out a brief cry of pain.

The seemingly sturdy stone armor on his crossed arms cracked like porcelain struck by artillery, instantly filling with spiderweb fractures before shattering apart with a boom.

His entire body was sent flying backward, as though he had been struck head-on by a charging rhinoceros, his feet lifting off the ground.

He flew through the air before slamming viciously into the wall at the front of the classroom with a deafening crash. The remaining force made the wall seem to tremble before he slid limply to the floor.

His defensive arms were twisted at unnatural angles. Barely propping himself up against the wall, his arms hung powerless at his sides. His face was deathly pale, blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, and he stared in utter horror at Yan, who stood where he was with his fist withdrawn.

Every sound vanished in an instant. The entire classroom became so quiet that a pin drop could be heard.

All the students froze. The mockery, curiosity, and amusement on their faces stiffened completely.

Their eyes widened as they stared at the Red-Haired Youth still standing there, his expression calm, as though he had casually swatted away a fly.

A student who had just advanced from a Lower-Tier Academy had not used Martial Soul Possession or a Soul Skill. With one simple punch, he had actually sent a defense-type Battle Soul Elder flying despite him already using a Soul Skill!

What the hell kind of monster was this?

Yan withdrew his fist and rolled his wrist. His gaze swept across the silent crowd before settling on Jiao Yang, who leaned against the wall with pain and terror written all over his face.

"Do I qualify to sit there now?" he asked, his tone still calm.

No one answered, but the silence was the best answer.

The snickers and whispers from before had all vanished, leaving only the sound of breathing.

Yan did not care. He returned to his seat as though nothing had happened.

But what had just happened stirred up a storm throughout the entire class.

Several close friends hurried over to Jiao Yang and took him to find one of the academy's healing-type Soul Masters.

The rest lowered their voices, murmuring among themselves.

But some students had already guessed Yan's identity.

He had not used a Soul Skill or drawn upon Soul Power, yet he could crush Soul Masters of the same rank—or even higher ranks—through physical strength alone.

That familiar impression quickly made them think of Yan, who was renowned throughout the Lower-Tier Academy.

Looking again at Yan's red hair and appearance, both matched the rumors of Yan one by one. More and more people guessed his identity.

The first-year students of the Advanced Academy had all advanced from Lower-Tier Academies the previous year, and they were very familiar with the stories about Yan.

Before this, however, most of them had believed Yan's reputation was exaggerated, that his fame far exceeded his actual strength.

Only after witnessing Yan act today did they suddenly realize that the rumors from the Lower-Tier Academy might have understated his strength. They had not truly revealed just how powerful he was.

Only then did the classroom's front door open. A stern-faced middle-aged man wearing a mentor's robe entered. He was Zhou You, the mentor of the first-year Core Class.

He glanced at the mess in the classroom and connected it with the commotion he had heard earlier, more or less guessing what had happened.

Yet he said nothing more about it, merely speaking in a deep voice. "Quiet. Prepare for class."

Then he glanced at Yan. "Yan, come to my office after class."

"Whoa!"

Zhou You's words drew startled cries from several students in the class.

This newly arrived red-haired kid really was Yan!

"Quiet!"

Zhou You frowned and tapped on the desk.

The class quickly fell silent. It was clear that Zhou You was usually strict in managing his students.

"Yes, Mentor," Yan replied.

Zhou You nodded and began the day's lesson.

But the atmosphere in the classroom had changed completely.

Every student, including those proud geniuses, looked toward the new student in the back row with undisguised wariness—and excitement.

It seemed the Core Class had gained someone extraordinary. Life at the Advanced Academy would probably not be dull from now on.

Yan, however, paid no mind to the gazes around him and quietly began attending class.