Yu Tianheng Seeking Abuse

"You had better not go up there to be abused."

Dugu Yan grabbed Yu Tianheng's arm, her tone so earnest it was nearly pleading.

She had just experienced that sword firsthand—there was no wind-up; with a casual wave, a five-meter giant sword descended from the sky while countless light swords simultaneously closed in from all around.

Her Jade Phosphorous Serpent Venom failed to even brush the opponent's hem before she was defeated, and that drunkard had not even used a second soul ring from start to finish.

This was not a question of victory or defeat; it was a gap in dimensions.

Yu Tianheng froze for several seconds.

He stared at Dugu Yan's hand holding his arm, then looked back into her emerald snake pupils filled with earnestness, a nameless, unspeakable bitterness and annoyance welling up in his heart.

He wanted to win some dignity for her, some reputation for Imperial Fighting Team One, which was why he stepped forward to challenge this drunkard.

He was going to shoulder everything for the entire team—

Yet Dugu Yan told him he was going to be abused.

"For Imperial Fighting Team One, and for the Royal Academy, I must fight. With all my might."

Yu Tianheng gently brushed Dugu Yan's hand away, his voice low and heroic, every single word ringing clear.

He looked around, his gaze sweeping over the face of every team member present, and finally landed back on Fang Fan, his eyes as firm as iron.

Many team members were deeply moved by these words.

"Captain, add oil, defeat the outsider!"

Someone raised an arm and shouted.

"Captain is awesome, you are the facade of our Imperial Fighting Team!"

Someone roared with hot tears in their eyes.

The atmosphere in the training ground was instantly ignited, and all the team members stood behind Yu Tianheng,

as if as long as they shouted loud enough, their captain could truly win.

Dugu Yan froze for a moment.

She was just seeking truth from facts—she had already experienced it firsthand; that gap could not be bridged by faith and slogans.

Yet Yu Tianheng did not believe it. He was just like this, sometimes too conceited, always feeling he had to shoulder everything, always thinking he could bridge the chasm of strength with a burst of hot blood.

She shook her head and did not stop him anymore.

Some south walls could only teach you pain once you crashed into them head-on.

Amidst the cheers of his classmates, Yu Tianheng held his head high and strode to the center of the training ground, standing opposite Fang Fan.

Ning Rongrong stood at the edge of the field, a trace of undisguised disdain hanging on the corner of her lips:

"People from the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon are truly self-righteous.

Do they think that because their martial soul is hailed as the continent's number one beast martial soul, they can look down on all heroes?

Their clan has many members, and when they gather their strength, it is massive; that is how the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon was pushed to that position.

Speaking of single combat, which of the Seven Killing Sword and the Clear Sky Hammer is not stronger than it?"

She paused, letting out a cold snort:

"Although our Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect is hailed as the number one auxiliary martial soul, I have never said the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect is number one in the world—

After all, there is still the Nine Heart Begonia. If that lineage were not so sparse in population, the title of the continent's number one auxiliary martial soul would not fall to us.

At most, we are just the continent's wealthiest sect."

"Indeed overestimating oneself."

Zhu Zhuqing rarely agreed with Ning Rongrong's view, her tone cold and concise.

Fang Fan casually rested the Seven-Colored Light Sword on his shoulder, walking with lazy steps to the center of the training ground, and came to a halt three steps opposite Yu Tianheng.

He still had that sleep-deprived look, a lazy curve hanging at the corner of his eyes, as he casually lifted his chin toward Yu Tianheng:

"Come, I'll indulge you."

"Roar—"

Yu Tianheng did not hesitate at all, instantly summoning his martial soul. Blue-purple lightning erupted from within him, dyeing the surrounding space of several meters into a pulsating electric blue.

A phantom of a Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon raised its head and roared behind him, dragon might mixing with lightning power as it swept outward.

Three soul rings rose from his feet—two yellow and one purple, the cultivation of a thirty-ninth-rank Battle Soul Elder erupting without reservation.

Electric light cracked and popped, the floor of the training ground turning slightly black from electricity, the momentum extremely astonishing.

He abruptly launched his first soul skill:

"Thunderclap Dragon Claw!"

The lightning condensed on his right arm transformed into a huge dragon claw, its five fingers curved like hooks, wrapping around destructive lightning power as it violently grabbed toward Fang Fan.

The air was ionized, emitting a sharp sonic boom, and the ground was plowed into a charred trail by the wake swept by the dragon claw.

Fang Fan did not release his soul ring.

He simply raised the Seven-Colored Light Sword, gripped the hilt with one hand, and lifted it upward—"Hum—" The blade began to rapidly grow larger and longer.

Five meters, ten meters, twenty meters, thirty meters—

A gigantic, sky-blocking Seven-Colored Light Sword stood in the center of the training ground, its tip nearly piercing the glass of the dome, and the seven-colored light flowing across the blade illuminated the entire training ground into a brilliant kaleidoscope.

That sight left everyone in the Imperial Fighting Team dumbfounded, their mouths wide open and unable to make a sound—

What is this guy's move called? How could it become so huge?

Moreover, that terrifying Sword Intent pressure was countless times stronger than the sword strike that had chopped toward Dugu Yan just a moment ago.

"Boom—"

The giant sword slashed down.

Yu Tianheng's Thunderclap Dragon Claw was crushed the instant it touched the sword's edge, turning into countless electric sparks that dissipated into the air.

Immediately after, the blade slammed into his crossed-block arms, and the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon's protective lightning shattered like tissue paper.

Yu Tianheng flew backward like a cannonball, tracing a straight trajectory through the air and flying over a dozen meters away.

Qin Ming's figure flashed into view, appearing behind Yu Tianheng, pressing one hand against his back to strip away that terrifying impact force layer by layer.

Even so, when Yu Tianheng landed, his legs trembled violently, almost causing him to kneel.

He looked down at his charred sleeves and numb arms, his eyes filled with disbelief—

He hadn't even withstood a single sword strike from his opponent; he had been defeated instantly, instantly losing his combat capability.

This Fang Fan really was terrifyingly powerful, striking as swiftly as lightning and showing no mercy.

"Teacher Qin."

The team members respectfully lowered their heads one after another.

Qin Ming nodded and beckoned a healer over to handle Yu Tianheng's injuries.

Yu Tianheng was helped to the side to sit down, bandages wrapped around his arms, keeping his head lowered without a word. He had truly hit a brick wall.

Qin Ming then turned and walked over to Fang Fan.

He wore a dark blue teacher's robe, with a handsome face and a steady demeanor. Among all the teachers at Heaven Dou Royal Academy, he was the youngest, having already stepped into the realm of a Soul Emperor at the age of thirty-one.

He looked at the white-robed youth in front of him who was leaning against a young girl's shoulder, reeking of alcohol, and too lazy to even stand straight,

yet there was no contempt in his eyes, only sincere appreciation and anticipation:

"Fang Fan, have you ever thought about taking me as your master?"

He asked very seriously.

Although Fang Fan's Soul Power Level hadn't been tested yet, judging from the power of that sword strike just now, this youth's strength was unimagin unimaginable.

A cultivation speed several years faster than his own—such a sapling was the first time he had seen one in all his years of teaching.

If he could take him as a disciple and cultivate him with care, his future achievements would by no means be inferior to his own.

"You? Not qualified."

Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing walked forward side by side, their green and black dresses complementing each other under the training ground's lights.

Ning Rongrong's tone retained that composure and pride unique to a young lady of a wealthy house, but this time she wasn't putting on airs—she was simply stating a fact.