Heavenly Light of All Things

From the moment Zhong Shenxiu truly made his move to the moment all three of them went down, less than five seconds had passed.

The entire venue fell silent.

Everyone stared blankly at the scene, their minds utterly empty.

Tang Wulin lay on the ground, his arms mangled and bloody as he gasped for breath.

Xie Xie sprawled beside Gu Yue, his entire body limp, without even the strength to stand.

Gu Yue stood where she was, motionless, that dragon claw still hovering before her throat.

As for Zhong Shenxiu, pale golden dragon scales covered his body. Fierce light burned within his molten-gold vertical pupils, while faint golden mist curled around him.

He stood beneath the afternoon sun like a god of war who had stepped out of ancient times.

Heavenly Light of All Things.

It made him increasingly powerful.

The longer he fought, the braver he became.

"Enough."

Wu Zhangkong's voice rang out, shattering the suffocating silence.

He walked into the field, his gaze falling on Zhong Shenxiu.

A complicated expression flickered through those sky-blue eyes.

There was shock, relief, and concern.

And a trace of... wariness.

What exactly was this child?

Zhong Shenxiu glanced at Wu Zhangkong, and the dragon claw hovering before Gu Yue's throat slowly withdrew.

The dragon scales on his body began to fade. His dragon horns gradually retracted, and his dragon claws turned back into human fingers.

A few seconds later, he had returned to being the quiet, indifferent nine-year-old boy he usually was.

If not for the cracks littering the ground and the sorry states of the three of them, it would have seemed as though that crushing battle had never happened.

"You three." Wu Zhangkong looked at Tang Wulin and the others.

Tang Wulin barely managed to climb up. Xie Xie helped Gu Yue stand straight, and all three wore varying degrees of fear and lingering dread on their faces.

"Extra running practice today." Wu Zhangkong's voice remained cold. "Fifty laps."

Xie Xie's face instantly turned green.

"F-Fifty laps?!"

"Do you have an objection?"

"N-No..."

Tang Wulin gave a bitter smile but did not argue.

Gu Yue said nothing. She merely looked deeply at Zhong Shenxiu.

An indescribable light flickered in her purple eyes.

Shock.

Confusion.

And a trace of...

Resonance?

Zhong Shenxiu did not look at her.

He simply turned around, walked to the edge of the field, sat cross-legged, and closed his eyes to regulate his breathing.

He looked utterly calm, as if nothing had happened.

As if he had not fought three opponents alone and crushed them all.

As if he had not unleashed that suffocating killing intent.

Xie Xie looked at his back and muttered quietly, "Is this guy... even human?"

Tang Wulin patted him on the shoulder but said nothing.

Gu Yue continued looking at Zhong Shenxiu, her gaze remaining fixed on him for a long while.

She recalled that pressure from earlier.

The pressure that had nearly forced the bloodline within her body into submission.

That was dragon might.

The purest, oldest, most supreme dragon might.

Dragon might that did not lose to the Dragon God's.

Zhong Shenxiu, who exactly are you?

The sunlight remained blazing.

The training field remained noisy.

Yet everyone's eyes unconsciously fell upon the boy sitting cross-legged at its edge.

The pale golden scales had already faded, leaving only that sharply defined profile.

But that golden lightning bolt that had torn through the sky had already been deeply branded into everyone's heart.

It would not fade for a long time.

Eastsea City, Hundred Crafts Workshop in the western part of the city.

This enormous complex of buildings was as bustling as ever. Shops stood row upon row along the bluestone-paved streets, their signs bright and colorful. The air was filled with the peculiar mixed scent of metal, grease, and Soul Power materials. Hawking, haggling, and the hum of Soul Tool testing intertwined into the unique clamor of this place.

Zhong Shenxiu walked along the familiar street at an unhurried pace.

He wore casual clothes today—a washed-out gray short-sleeved shirt, dark blue trousers, and worn canvas shoes. Without the conspicuous academy badge on his uniform, combined with his tall frame and sharply defined face, he looked two or three years older than he actually was.

But those pale golden vertical pupils were still the most eye-catching feature in the crowd.

Wherever he passed, pedestrians instinctively made way for him.

It was not fear, but a primal instinct to avoid him—just as one's body reacted before the mind upon encountering a fierce beast in the wilderness.

Zhong Shenxiu had long since grown used to it.

He turned into a relatively quiet alley and stopped in front of the third shop.

"Old Chen's Material Shop."

This was the same shop where he had previously bought materials. Its owner was Old Chen, the gray-haired, bespectacled man. But he had not come to buy materials today; he had come to sell something.

"Oh, little Zhong, you're here?"

Old Chen was seated behind the counter, repairing a Soul Tool component. When he saw Zhong Shenxiu enter, he set down his tools, removed his glasses, and greeted him with a smile.

After a month, the two had become familiar with one another. Old Chen knew that this quiet child was a student at Eastsea Academy, that he made Soul Tools to earn living expenses, and that the lighting Soul Tools he made were of decent quality.

"Uncle Chen." Zhong Shenxiu nodded in greeting.

He took a small cloth bag from his storage pouch and placed it on the counter.

"This week's."

Old Chen accepted the bag, opened it, and poured its contents onto the counter.

Twenty lighting Soul Tools lay neatly arranged there. Each was palm-sized, with a refined iron base, a Glimmer Stone core, clear and smooth formation patterns, and meticulous craftsmanship.

Old Chen casually picked one up and injected a thread of Soul Power into it.

Bzz—

A soft, steady white glow lit up, illuminating the shelves behind the counter.

Old Chen squinted at it, tested a few more, then nodded in satisfaction.

"Consistent quality," he said. "You've improved again since last week. Same price as usual for this batch: one hundred and twenty each."

Zhong Shenxiu nodded.

Twenty at one hundred and twenty each came to two thousand four hundred Federal Coin.

After deducting material costs, the net profit was around sixteen hundred.

This month, he had steadily produced around twenty units each week. Together with what he had accumulated over the previous weeks, he had earned nearly six thousand Federal Coin. Although he was still short of paying off the workshop rent and buying a Soul Guidance Battery, at least his food problem had been solved—he could now eat five full meals a day, and the operating efficiency of the Eternal Myriad Dragon Source Art had noticeably improved.

Old Chen counted out two thousand four hundred Federal Coin from a drawer and pushed it toward Zhong Shenxiu.

"Count it."

"No need." Zhong Shenxiu put the money into his storage pouch.

Old Chen smiled and did not insist. Though the child spoke little, he was dependable and never made mistakes.

"Oh, right." Old Chen suddenly remembered something. "Little Zhong, have you considered making something else?"

Zhong Shenxiu looked at him.

"Lighting Soul Tools sell well, but the profit margins are thin," Old Chen said. "Your craftsmanship has improved now, so you can consider making some functional Soul Tools. Things like heaters, fans, or small shields. Those have high profits and strong market demand."

Zhong Shenxiu fell silent for a few seconds.

Of course he had considered it.

The profit margins on functional Soul Tools were indeed far higher than those of lighting Soul Tools. A basic heater cost less than one hundred to make but could sell for over three hundred. A small shield cost two or three hundred to make but could sell for more than a thousand.

But the problem was that those Soul Tools required much more complex materials and formations. With his current skill, he was ninety percent confident in making lighting Soul Tools, at most fifty percent confident in making heaters, and perhaps only twenty to thirty percent confident in making shields.

The cost of failure was too high.

He still could not afford to lose money.