At Xiao Yan's words, the referee finally came to his senses as if waking from a dream. His Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty, and he forcefully brought down the flag in his hand.
"District Five, New Student Class Nine—Xiao Yan wins!"
The announcement shattered the silence around the arena.
Xiao Yan didn't linger. He turned and walked off the stage.
As he turned, his gaze swept casually over the viewing stands above.
At the center of the stands, Mu Jin stood by the railing, grinning from ear to ear.
As Class Nine's homeroom teacher, she had watched her student sweep away the Class One team Zhou Yi had placed such high hopes in, all in a single second. Her delight was written plainly across her face.
Beside Mu Jin stood a figure completely at odds with the cheerful mood.
She was an elderly woman, her face wrinkled and her hair white, gathered in a coil atop her head.
She glared viciously at Xiao Yan as he walked off the stage, her eyes dark and sinister.
To have the promising team in her class instantly crushed by someone who hadn't even released his Martial Soul was, to the ever-arrogant Zhou Yi, no different from being slapped hard in front of everyone.
Xiao Yan stopped, lifted his head, and met her venomous gaze.
He couldn't stand that kind of self-important attitude.
The moment their eyes met, the Fuxi Bagua Formation Map spun rapidly deep within Xiao Yan's dark eyes.
The vast spiritual power in his Sea of Consciousness instantly condensed, becoming an invisible, soundless wave of zither music. Like a blade tearing through the void, it crossed dozens of meters and slammed forcefully into Zhou Yi's Sea of Consciousness.
Zhou Yi, up on the viewing platform, had no time to defend herself.
She felt a world-shaking roar explode in her mind. Her entire Sea of Consciousness was struck by a heavy hammer, sending up towering waves.
The violent sensation of being torn apart plunged her vision into darkness, and a sickly sweetness surged up from her throat.
"Pfft—"
Zhou Yi swayed violently, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the railing in front of her.
Only then did horror finally seize her heart.
That eleven-year-old boy had nearly shattered her Sea of Consciousness with a single look!
She didn't dare linger. In a panic, she looked away, scrubbed the blood from the corner of her mouth with her sleeve, then staggered through the crowd and fled the viewing platform in disgrace.
Mu Jin, still immersed in her joy, turned at the commotion. All she saw was Zhou Yi's hasty retreat and the blood on the railing.
Mu Jin hadn't noticed the brief clash of spiritual power just now.
She assumed the old hag Zhou Yi had been so narrow-minded that, seeing Class One soundly defeated, she had become so enraged that her blood ran backward and she spat blood.
The thought made Mu Jin all the happier. She waved cheerfully to Xiao Yan below.
Xiao Yan returned a gentle smile, as if nothing had happened, then turned and walked toward the three waiting for him at the edge of the arena: Xiao Xiao and the others.
"Is that it?" Xiao Xiao came closer, her big eyes full of disappointment.
Xiao Yan nodded.
There was only this one assessment on the first day. He looked around at the other arenas, where mostly freshmen in their teens and twenties were locked in dull, drawn-out brawls. There was nothing worth watching.
The four immediately decided to leave the Assessment Area and return to the grove by Sea God Lake.
The afternoon was still reserved for training in the Dream Arena.
Xiao Yan sat upright on a blue stone, the zither music rising and falling.
When Xiao Xiao, Ning Tian, and Wu Feng opened their eyes again in the gray, hazy dreamscape, the three Soul Elders standing across from them had been replaced by a team led by a Soul Ancestor in the forties, with two Soul Elders in their thirties!
The pressure had doubled.
The three girls were getting beaten black and blue in the dream, groaning in misery, but Xiao Yan was having the time of his life.
Maintaining a Dream Arena with such high intensity and realism required him to process the opponents' combat logic, the physical feedback of the environment, and the mental states of all three girls at once.
This vast, complex process of handling information was practically the perfect way to temper his spiritual power.
Each simulation continued to expand the capacity of his Sea of Consciousness.
Over the next few days, the Freshman Assessment's round-robin matches continued in full swing.
The first nine rounds went very smoothly for the two teams.
Ning Tian's team swept through the competition, backed by both their rich combat experience and their overwhelming level advantage.
Ning Tian's precise boosts, Wu Feng's explosive attacks, and Xiao Xiao—the powerhouse girl who could wield a cauldron in one hand—made their team the nightmare of every competitor in District Eight.
The sight of Xiao Xiao's petite figure swinging a heavy black cauldron to smash people was branded deep in the minds of many freshmen.
By contrast, the matches on Xiao Yan's side were downright bizarre.
Across all nine matches, he still hadn't shown his Martial Soul or Spirit Rings.
Yet every time, he came up with some new trick that made people's scalps crawl.
Once, the referee had barely called for the match to begin when Xiao Yan started playing his zither in the air. The three aggressive Soul Masters on the other side promptly dropped to the stage, snoring like thunder.
Young people really did have it good—they could fall asleep the moment they hit the ground!
Another time, he faced a team skilled in tactical maneuvering.
The zither music rang out. Three seconds later, the three opponents suddenly clutched their heads and burst into tears. Apologizing to one another, they joined hands and jumped off the stage of their own accord.
The most ridiculous match was when the three opponents had charged halfway across the arena before suddenly acting as if possessed. Eyes bloodshot, they began beating one another until all three were bruised and swollen, sprawled on the ground and unable to get back up. Xiao Yan hadn't even taken a step.
These mysterious methods were far more terrifying than a straightforward show of overwhelming strength.
Freshmen from other classes privately asked Class Nine students about Xiao Yan, but his classmates kept their mouths firmly shut.
Whenever anyone asked, the students of Class Nine folded their arms and gazed up at the sky, putting on an air of unfathomable profundity.
"Our class monitor's realm is beyond your imagination. Take it from a friend: if you run into him, surrender right away and save yourself some pain."
This outlandish claim actually worked.
In the following rounds, several teams really did raise their hands to forfeit as soon as they stepped onto the stage after drawing Xiao Yan as their opponent.
There was no doubt that Xiao Yan had become the top favorite to win this year's Freshman Assessment.
Meanwhile, Ning Tian's team, steady and undefeated, was widely considered the second favorite.
The assessment reached the crucial rounds of the round-robin matches.
Today, the area around the District Eight arena was packed with teachers and students who had come to watch.
Ning Tian, Wu Feng, and Xiao Xiao walked onto the stage shoulder to shoulder.
Their opponents that day were an interesting bunch—a team that had also stood out and drawn attention in the earlier matches.
Of the three who walked out on the other side, the one on the left was a handsome boy with a slender build and short pink-and-blue hair: Wang Dong.
In the middle was a delicate-looking boy whose eyes gave off a faint golden glow: Huo Yuhao.
Following on their right was Wang Gang, a burly Soul Grandmaster.
The threads of fate converged on the arena. Ning Tian's golden-blue eyes met Huo Yuhao's, and the air instantly filled with the sharp tang of gunpowder.