The First Round

“Who’s up first?”

Luo Yang’s question reached Zhang Xian’s ears. Zhang Xian scanned the group of people on the north side of the training ground. Many were sitting on benches maintaining their weapons, but upon hearing the commotion, a tall boy in a black training uniform stood up from the far end.

“Zhou Yi, your team goes first,” Zhang Xian shouted.

The boy named Zhou Yi acknowledged the call and waved to his two teammates behind him. He started to call for a fourth member but hesitated mid-motion.

He scratched the back of his head and walked toward Zhang Xian.

“Principal,” Zhou Yi said in a low voice. “The thing is... there are only three of us in our team right now.”

Zhang Xian’s eyebrows twitched.

“Where’s Roger?”

“Still in the hospital,” Zhou Yi replied. “A bone lizard chewed on his left leg back in South City. The senior from the medical department said he needs at least another week of recovery to ensure there are no lasting aftereffects.”

Zhang Xian clicked his tongue, the eager glint in his eyes fading slightly.

He looked at Luo Yang, then at Zhou Yi. After a silence of two or three seconds, he finally waved his hand dismissively.

“Fine. A three-on-one is still a fight. You guys go first.”

“Huh?” Zhou Yi was stunned for a moment.

“What?” Zhang Xian countered. “You’re fighting him, not anyone else. Three people might not even be enough.”

Zhou Yi shut his mouth and turned back to gather his teammates.

“Principal, are you complimenting me or insulting them?” Luo Yang found Zhang Xian’s words amusing, and his mood lightened significantly.

“Complimenting you.” Zhang Xian patted his shoulder. “These three are in for a treat.”

“Understood. And what about equipment? Will you be providing it?”

Zhang Xian pointed toward the north wall. “Over there. Those large crates are full of it. Take your pick.”

Five or six large iron crates were lined up against the wall, their lids open to reveal a pile of various first-tier weapons. Swords, blades, spears, and daggers were all available. Every weapon was marked with a faint red stamp, indicating they were for training use.

The lethality of these weapons had been specially modified; the edges were blunted, and the energy circuits had been mostly disabled.

Luo Yang walked over and crouched down, rummaging through the crates. He reached into his space ring, and bundles of weapons vanished silently into the sub-dimension.

Fifty swords, twenty short blades, twenty military spikes, and ten long spears.

“That should be enough.” Luo Yang stood up after collecting the hundred weapons. He clenched his right hand into a fist and then relaxed it, feeling the blood energy circulate through his palm. “This equipment is well-handled. The danger level is low. Even if I strike with full force, it’ll only hurt for a moment.”

“Of course.” Zhang Xian stood with his hands behind his back. “If training equipment could kill people, my academy would have been shut down and investigated long ago.”

Luo Yang laughed and said no more. He turned and walked toward the center of the training ground, where a massive arena stage stood.

The entire stage was cast from a special dark-gray alloy, with every panel ground to a seamless fit. The surface showed signs of repeated polishing, reflecting a steady, dull light.

The stage was over half a person’s height, about twenty meters long and wide, with metal protective strips extending outward from the edges.

The grade of this alloy was exceptionally high; it was said to be capable of withstanding a full-force blow from a Star Initiation rank expert. Consequently, all high-intensity combat in the academy was arranged here.

Luo Yang stepped onto the platform.

The alloy surface felt harder than expected but had a very slight bounce. That was the energy absorption layer beneath the stage at work, specifically designed to dissipate excess shockwaves generated during battle to prevent them from injuring the surrounding audience.

He stomped his feet twice; the stage was as stable as a solid piece of a mountain’s core.

Zhou Yi and his team also stepped up.

There were three of them. Besides Zhou Yi himself, there was a lean boy on his left carrying a long spear and a girl with short, ear-length hair on his right with two short blades at her waist.

Luo Yang’s mental power did a casual sweep: all were at the Core Consolidation rank—one at Level 7 and two at Level 6.

For a team ranked around sixtieth on the Ladder Rankings, their composition was fairly balanced.

Zhou Yi stood firm and gave Luo Yang a nod. He spoke politely, though his tone lacked much actual reverence. “I’ve heard much about you, Student Luo.”

Luo Yang waved his hand. “Just call me Luo Yang.”

“Then, Luo Yang,” Zhou Yi paused for a beat, “don’t hold back too much on us.”

“Don’t worry,” Luo Yang smiled. “I won’t.”

Chu Zimo, leaning against a pillar in the distance to watch, felt his lip twitch when he heard that.

From below the stage, Zhang Xian shouted at the top of his lungs, “Begin!”

Zhou Yi’s side didn't waste any words. The three of them scattered the moment the shout died down.

The short-haired girl circled toward the left edge of the stage, the boy with the spear moved to the right flank, and Zhou Yi remained in the center, drawing a first-tier training longsword from his waist.

It was a standard spread-out formation—a triangular pincer.

Luo Yang stood his ground, his right index finger twitching slightly at his side.

Three first-tier longswords appeared silently behind him, floating in three different positions around his body. The tips were pointed evenly in three directions.

One faced Zhou Yi, one faced the girl on the left, and one faced the spearman on the right.

Zhou Yi looked at the three swords. His gaze narrowed for a moment before he let out a small smile.

“You’re going to handle the three of us with just three swords?”

“They’ll suffice,” Luo Yang said.

Zhou Yi said nothing more and gave a hand signal to his teammates.

In the next second, all three moved simultaneously.

The short-haired girl had already cut in from the left at extreme speed. Luo Yang couldn't identify her ability, but her footwork was impressive; every step landed exactly on the edge of his blind spot.

The spearman didn't close in. He took half a step forward and thrust his spear; the spearhead suddenly appeared right behind Luo Yang’s heart.

The shaft had extended!

That was an energy-attribute ability that could double a weapon’s attack range for a limited time.

In the center, Zhou Yi charged forward, his sword light following a sweeping arc aimed at Luo Yang’s waist.

Three angles, three timings. A frontal slash, a stab to the back, and a flank cut.

The timing was incredibly tight, all calculated to land within the fractions of a second it would take for Luo Yang to raise his hand.

It was a competent team coordination.

But only competent.

Luo Yang’s left foot shifted half an inch on the spot.

He didn't stride or retreat; he simply turned his ankle at an angle, shifting his entire center of gravity a finger’s width toward the front-left.

That single finger’s width was the only fatal flaw in this seemingly inescapable formation.

The strike from the short-haired girl on the left was supposed to have sliced right into his left ribs.

But because his center of gravity shifted, the blade whistled past two inches from his side. The girl didn't even have time to pull back her strength; the blade grazed the edge of his shirt as she lunged half a step past him.

The extended spearhead aimed at his back was supposed to pierce his spine. Instead, the spear grazed his right shoulder, thrusting directly forward from where he had just been standing.

And directly forward was where Zhou Yi was charging.

It was an impossible situation. If Zhou Yi continued his charge, he would run straight into the spear. If he stopped, his swinging sword would miss due to momentum.

Zhou Yi was at Core Consolidation Level 7, so his reactions weren't slow. In that split second, he forcefully reined in his sword strike and rolled away to the left.

The moment he hit the ground, Luo Yang’s three swords arrived.

The three swords had been floating in place, waiting to respond to the attacks from three directions.

But since the attacks had all failed, they turned around to deal with the attackers instead.

The first sword went for the girl. Before she could steady herself, she felt a flash of sword light graze the side of her neck, and the flat of the blade slapped against her shoulder.

The blunted edge didn't even break the skin, but the force of the slap numbed half her body. She stumbled for two steps, her knees buckling as she fell directly into a kneel.

The second sword went for the spearman. His spear hadn't been retracted yet; while his ability was pushed to its limit to extend the shaft, his reaction speed was locked into that motion. The sword light sliced through the middle of the shaft, forcefully breaking his extended state.

The spear snapped back to its original length. The boy’s hands instinctively loosened, and he fell backward, landing hard on his rear.

The third sword went for Zhou Yi.

Zhou Yi had just finished his roll and was about to push himself up to reorganize his defense when the sword was already three inches from his throat. He froze there, knees half-bent, sword still in hand, his composure completely shattering.

He looked up at Luo Yang, but Luo Yang was still standing in the same spot as if nothing had happened.

After that finger’s width shift in gravity, he hadn't moved again.

From the start of the exchange to the end, his left ankle had turned once, and his right index finger had moved once. That was all.

The buzzing discussions in the training ground vanished instantly.

Zhang Xian glanced toward the instructors on the bleachers. Every one of those training mentors had an expression similar to Zhou Yi’s.

Zhang Xian clicked his tongue, his mind racing with calculations.

It seemed this deal was even more profitable than he had originally imagined.

On the arena stage, Luo Yang raised his hand and released his control over Weapon’s End, Ember’s Birth. The sword light flickered, and the three swords simultaneously dissolved into fine gray ash.

He half-crouched and extended a hand toward Zhou Yi.

“Get up.”

Zhou Yi dazed for a moment, then shook his head and pushed himself up by his knees.

“Student Luo.”

This time, his voice carried sincere respect.

“I have a question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Just now...” Zhou Yi swallowed. “Did you see our attack paths in advance?”

Luo Yang smiled. His mental power swept over the crowd below; the expressions on those spectators were quite a sight.

“Your offensive was sharp, and your encirclement was well-executed. But perhaps because you’re missing a person, there are gaps in your coordination. For instance, the timing of your strikes and the specific positioning of your pincer—they seem standard, but they aren't flexible enough. You lack the ability to patch holes in real-time.”

Luo Yang patted Zhou Yi’s shoulder like a superior officer. “Remember to practice the individual synergy between different members when you get back. On a real battlefield, it’s common for teammates to lose their combat effectiveness or even be killed. You can't let the team’s overall capability drop too much just because of that.”

“Next team!” he shouted toward Zhang Xian.

Zhang Xian nodded hurriedly.

“Zhou Yi, you guys get down! Next group!”