After breakfast, they finished their morning training.
At ten in the morning, Teacher Yu Xiaogang began the lesson. Standing at the lectern, he pinched half a piece of chalk between his fingers and wrote a line on the blackboard: "Martial Souls and Destiny."
When he finished, he turned around and glanced at the students below. Clearing his throat, he said, "Class, there's one thing you need to understand. There are no useless Soul Masters, only useless Martial Souls."
The students exchanged glances, then began whispering among themselves.
Tang San leaned toward Xiao Wu and muttered a few words. Oscar dug at his ear, while Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing discussed what the sentence meant.
Everyone remembered that Yu Xiaogang's most famous theory had once been the exact opposite.
Tang San couldn't help raising his hand and standing up. Puzzlement colored his voice. "Teacher, you used to say there are no useless Martial Souls, only useless Soul Masters. Did you get it backward today?"
Yu Xiaogang sighed, set down the chalk, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked down from the lectern.
"Yes, that's what I used to say."
He stopped in the middle of the classroom and looked out the window at the distant mountains. His voice had grown much flatter. "But not long ago, my Soul Power, which had been stuck at Level 30, remained there even after I turned fifty."
"Pfft..." The students hurriedly covered their mouths.
"At fifty, one knows destiny."
Yu Xiaogang ignored the snicker and continued, "At first, I believed determination was what mattered most. In the end, I was powerless to face the truth: destiny is what reigns supreme. From the moment a Martial Soul awakens, it determines a person's entire life."
His words were heavy and painfully real, silencing every sound in the room. The classroom fell utterly quiet.
The Grandmaster, once so full of confidence and determined to defy heaven, had finally bowed his head to destiny.
Yu Xiaogang surveyed the class, his tone turning serious again. "Next, I want each of you to stand up in turn and introduce yourselves. State your Martial Soul, attributes, and Soul Power Level so I can get a sense of your foundations."
The students stopped fooling around and introduced themselves one by one.
"Tang San, Level 29 Control System Soul Master, Martial Soul: Blue Silver Grass."
"Xiao Wu, Level 29 Agility Attack and Power Attack System Soul Master, Martial Soul: Soft Bone Charm Rabbit."
"Dai Mubai, Level 37 Power Attack System Soul Master, Martial Soul: White Tiger."
"Oscar, Level 29 Food-type Soul Master, Martial Soul: Sausage."
"Ma Hongjun, Level 28 Power Attack System Soul Master, Martial Soul: Evil Fire Phoenix."
"Zhu Zhuqing, Level 27 Agility Attack System Soul Master, Martial Soul: Hell Spirit Cat."
"Ning Rongrong, Level 26 Support System Soul Master, Martial Soul: Seven Treasures Glazed Pagoda."
Qin Chuan was the last to stand. His expression was composed, and his voice clear and steady.
"Qin Chuan, Level 29 Control and Support System Soul Master, Martial Soul: Illusion Bell."
Once everyone had introduced themselves, it was clear that the lowest level among them was 26 and the highest was 37. They were all geniuses of the same age, their talents far surpassing those of ordinary Soul Masters.
A trace of satisfaction flickered in Yu Xiaogang's eyes, but he didn't show it. Instead, he deliberately held back his praise, keeping his expression flat as he knocked the students down a peg to keep them from growing conceited.
"Good foundations. You could be called a class of geniuses. But geniuses are the most likely to grow arrogant and fall before their time. So let me tell you what paths lie ahead for you."
His gaze swept across the class, and he critiqued each student in turn, his words blunt and sharp.
"Tang San, Blue Silver Grass is a Trash Martial Soul with a very low ceiling. At best, you'll be able to control the battlefield. If that doesn't work out, go home and open a ranch. Growing grass would suit you best."
Tang San's face stiffened. Looking somewhat awkward, he could only lower his head without a word.
"Oscar, a Food-type Martial Soul has no combat strength at all and can only provide support. Once you leave the academy, your best bet will be setting up a stall and selling grilled sausages."
Oscar's mouth twitched. He scratched his head sheepishly, looking utterly helpless.
Finally, Yu Xiaogang turned his gaze to Qin Chuan, his tone carrying a hint of regret and disapproval.
"Qin Chuan, your mutated Illusion Bell Martial Soul has no close-combat ability or burst damage. It can only use Mental Interference, which is useless in actual combat. No matter how high your Soul Power gets, you'll still be nothing but an unorthodox support Soul Master. After graduation, you might as well work in the city as a sleep therapist and live a quiet life."
Yu Xiaogang's biting critiques left everyone looking awkward. They forced stiff smiles, none of them taking his words seriously.
They all knew they were geniuses handpicked by Shrek. The Grandmaster was only trying to knock down their pride.
Only Qin Chuan understood what was going on. He smiled faintly and said nothing.
A sleep therapist?
At that moment, Yu Xiaogang had no idea that the unorthodox Martial Soul he considered useless would one day overturn the fate of the entire Douluo world.
By the afternoon, it was time for combat training.
Zhao Wuji stood in the middle of the training ground, arms crossed over his chest.
"Next is combat training. The rules are simple: we'll start with one-on-one instruction. You'll come up one at a time and spar with me. I'll give you advice tailored to your offense and defense."
"Qin Chuan, Ning Rongrong, your Martial Souls are special. There's no point in sparring with me one-on-one. We'll see what you can do during the team battle."
The two nodded and moved to the edge of the training ground.
The one-on-one instruction began.
Tang San went first.
He stood opposite Zhao Wuji and assumed a starting stance. Three strands of Blue Silver Grass emerged from his palm and coiled around his arm, poised to strike.
Zhao Wuji didn't release his Martial Soul. He simply stood there with both arms at his sides.
"Come on."
Tang San moved. Blue Silver Grass lashed toward Zhao Wuji from three directions, moving swiftly with a rush of wind. At the same time, Tang San charged forward and flung a Hidden Weapon with his left hand.
Zhao Wuji didn't even look at the Hidden Weapon. He swept his right hand out, and the gust from his palm sent it flying. At the same time, his left hand caught the end of a strand of Blue Silver Grass and whipped it back toward Tang San.
Tang San stumbled as the strand dragged him off balance.
"Blue Silver Grass's strengths are its range and ability to bind. When you're caught in a close-range tug-of-war, learn to cut it off in time. Don't be reluctant to let it go." Zhao Wuji released the strand and stepped back.
Dai Mubai went next.
He released his Martial Soul as soon as he stepped forward. The White Tiger Protection Barrier lit up, a pale golden shield enveloping him. He clenched both fists and leaned forward like a tiger poised to pounce.
"Good." Zhao Wuji looked faintly pleased. "Come at me."
Dai Mubai threw a punch. Zhao Wuji dodged to the side and struck him in the back. Dai Mubai stumbled two steps forward. Ripples spread across his protective barrier, but it didn't break.
"Your attacks are too direct. How many times have I told you? The White Tiger's explosive power is your advantage, but you can't just charge straight ahead. Learn to change direction."
Dai Mubai gave a derisive snort, but obediently adjusted his stance.
Zhu Zhuqing was the third to step up.
She took off her long-sleeved training jacket, leaving on only a tight-fitting black short-sleeved shirt. The muscles in her arms were firm and well-proportioned, her waist narrow. Below it, a pair of long, straight legs stretched down, encased in black leggings. Each step had a spring to it.
She stood opposite Zhao Wuji, her eyes narrowed and her pupils narrowing to vertical slits, like a cat's.
Without any warning, Zhu Zhuqing vanished.
The next second, she appeared to Zhao Wuji's left. Her fingers pressed together like a blade as she slashed toward his ribs.
Hell Stab.
Zhao Wuji didn't even raise an eyelid. He blocked with his left arm, taking the strike head-on. Zhu Zhuqing's fingers struck his forearm as if she'd grabbed an iron plate, and numbness shot through her fingertips.
"Your speed is good, but you lack strength. You're too light, so your explosive power can't keep up with your speed," Zhao Wuji said. "When you get back, work on your basic strength. Don't just train your speed."
Zhu Zhuqing withdrew her hand, nodded, and stepped aside.
Ma Hongjun and Xiao Wu went up in turn. Zhao Wuji slapped Ma Hongjun into a stumble and scolded him, "You're not hot enough yet." Xiao Wu did fairly well. The Soft Bone Rabbit's footwork, combined with the explosive power of Waist Bow, made Zhao Wuji take her a little more seriously. But only a little.
Oscar was skipped outright. There was even less reason to give a Food-type Martial Soul individual combat instruction.
"Good. That's the end of the one-on-one instruction. Next, the team battle."
Zhao Wuji walked to the middle of the training ground and rolled his neck. His bones cracked sharply.
"Rules: all of you come at me together. I won't use any Soul Skills. You can use whatever you like."
As he spoke, his gaze swept over the eight students, then came to rest on Qin Chuan.
"Qin Chuan, you—"
Zhao Wuji slapped his forehead and put on a troubled expression.
"Qin Chuan, your Martial Soul is too unusual. You won't take part in the team battle."
Qin Chuan spread his hands. "All right, Teacher Zhao."