From his realm to his bone tempering, from his spear techniques to his combat intuition, every quality of this youth was practically perfect.
But what truly unnerved her were those eyes.
From start to finish, no matter what moves Su Qingyue used or what trump cards she revealed, those eyes never showed the slightest ripple.
It wasn't indifference, nor was it arrogance.
It was a composure toward combat itself, born from being long accustomed to life and death.
How could an eighteen-year-old youth possess such a gaze?
On the other side of the main stands, Su Zhen sat motionless.
His expression could no longer be described as merely unsightly.
It was ashen and livid, his lips trembling slightly.
He stared fixedly at Lin Yuan in the arena, his knuckles white from gripping the armrests so hard that he had peeled off a layer of the chair's lacquer.
He had lost.
His S-rank daughter, the Tier 2 A-rank Icechill Sword, all the resources the Su family had piled up—lost.
Lost to an orphan who had been F-rank just ten days ago.
Right in front of the top four academies and all the dignitaries of Donghai City, he had lost everything.
But what made him feel even colder was something else.
He suddenly remembered what Lei Meng had said earlier.
“Eight Rounds of Bone Tempering?” Su Zhen’s heart trembled, but he didn't dare think deeper into it.
He didn't dare.
In the center of the arena, Lin Yuan shouldered his long spear once more.
He looked at Su Qingyue sitting on the ground, hesitated for a moment, and then reached out a hand to her.
Su Qingyue stared blankly at that hand.
The palm was covered in calluses, with several unhealed wounds on the knuckles and a thick layer of hardened skin at the base of the thumb.
This was a hand from a world completely different from hers.
She remained silent for a few seconds before grasping that hand.
Lin Yuan pulled her up.
“Your swordsmanship is beautiful,” he said.
Su Qingyue was momentarily stunned.
“But beautiful swordsmanship cannot kill monsters.” Lin Yuan let go of her hand, his tone flat.
“A Tier 1, Level 7 Wind-patterned Leopard in the wilderness won't die any faster just because your swordsmanship is pretty.”
Su Qingyue opened her mouth to say something, but in the end, nothing came out.
Lin Yuan didn't look at her again, turning instead to face the main stands.
His gaze passed over Su Zhen, the dignitaries of Donghai City, and the teachers from the four academies, landing on the morning light streaming down from the arena’s dome.
Then he spoke, his voice not loud, yet clearly reaching the ears of everyone present.
“Head of the Su family.”
Su Zhen’s body stiffened slightly.
“I have won the ten-day challenge,” Lin Yuan’s voice remained calm. “The engagement is dissolved. Furthermore—”
He paused.
“It is time to return the item my parents left in the Su family’s care.”
Su Zhen’s expression changed completely.
He stood up abruptly, his lips moving as if he wanted to say something.
But under the watchful eyes of the teachers from the four academies and all the dignitaries of Donghai City, he only managed to squeeze out two words.
“...Of course.”
Lin Yuan nodded and turned toward the arena exit.
After a few steps, he suddenly stopped and glanced toward a certain direction in the stands.
There, three figures in grey cloaks were quietly rising to leave.
The corners of Lin Yuan’s mouth curled into a cold arc.
The stage has been set.
Next, it’s time to clear out the rats.
...
The silence in the arena lasted for a full ten seconds.
Then, it exploded.
Not metaphorically—it truly erupted.
People stood up to argue loudly, others pulled out their phones to send messages frantically, and some leaned over the backrests of the front seats, wishing they could jump into the arena to get a closer look.
“Tier 1, Level 6! That kid is Tier 1, Level 6!”
“Eight Rounds of Bone Tempering? Did I hear that right? Did the teacher from National Martial Arts Academy say he has Eight Rounds of Bone Tempering?”
“He was F-rank ten days ago! Ten days! From unranked to Tier 1, Level 6—is that even humanly possible?!”
“The eldest miss of the Su family lost? An S-rank lost?!”
The clamor rose in wave after wave, and the entire arena was like a pot of boiling water.
But the real spectacle wasn't in the audience; it was on the main stands.
Gu Cheng was the first to move.
The recruitment teacher from Magic City Academy, who was always lazy, moved with incredible speed now.
He sprang from his seat, pushing aside Qian Wantong who was in his way.
The head of the Donghai Chamber of Commerce stumbled and nearly fell, while Gu Cheng already had a black business card in his hand.
“Lin Yuan, right? Take a look at Magic City Academy! Our cafeteria's hotpot is number one in the country—”
Before he could finish, a palm as large as a cattail leaf fan pressed against his face.
Lei Meng.
The physical arts instructor from National Martial Arts Academy pushed Gu Cheng aside with one hand, the flesh on his face trembling—not from anger, but from excitement.
“Kid!” His voice was so loud it could be heard throughout the arena.
“Come to National Martial Arts! With a foundation of Eight Rounds of Bone Tempering, I'll train you personally! Physical arts combined with lightning system—your future will be limitless! Places like Kyoto or Magic City are just flowery fluff!”
“Who are you calling flowery fluff?” Qin Ruolan’s voice was icy.
Lei Meng shrunk his neck back for a second but immediately stuck it out again to retort, “I'm talking about you! A mountain of theory classes but pathetic in actual combat. I speak my mind, so don't get upset!”
Qin Ruolan took a deep breath, deciding not to lower herself to this brute's level.
She turned to Lin Yuan, her expression softening slightly for once.
Though, for her frozen face, this "softening" was like a temperature rise from minus twenty to minus ten degrees.
“Lin Yuan, Kyoto Academy is the leader of the four top academies in the Dragon Nation. We have the most systematic theoretical framework for the lightning system, tutors at Tier 3 or above, and the most complete ability database in the entire nation.”
She paused and added, “Moreover, we are a public institution. Tuition is fully waived, and there's a monthly living allowance. We can discuss other specific benefits in private.”
“Magic City also waives everything!” Gu Cheng squeezed out from under Lei Meng’s palm.
“National Martial Arts provides room and board!” Lei Meng refused to be outdone.
“Shencity grants direct military status; you'll be an officer upon graduation,” Ye Lin said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable weight.
The four of them spoke one after another, their voices getting louder and faster until they were practically shouting at each other.
The local bigwigs of Donghai City were caught in the middle, feeling quite awkward, their expressions a sight to behold.
Zhao Lie sat in his seat, his mouth open wide enough to fit an egg.
His son, Zhao Tianyu, had mocked Lin Yuan as a “mobile lightbulb” on awakening day just ten days ago. Today, the boy had taken down an S-rank in a single strike.
He slowly turned to look at his son. Zhao Tianyu’s face had turned the color of pig liver, and he was shrinking into his seat, wishing he could crawl into a crack in the floor.
Zhou Wenjie sat on the other side of the stands, his expression incredibly complex.
Five days ago, Lin Yuan had saved him and Sun Qian in the wilderness. At the time, he only thought the kid was lucky and brave.
Now he understood.
It wasn't luck; it was pure strength.
He remembered the things he had said while jeering with Zhao Tianyu on awakening day, and his face burned as if he had been slapped dozens of times.
But the one with the worst expression in the entire arena was Su Zhen.
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