Chapter Seventy-Seven: Wu Yong (Please Add to Favorites)

Yang Ze and his companions walked all the way to the platform in front of the high stage and stopped beside it, forming a line, not daring to move a muscle. They all knew very well that this must be the final round of the examination. Out of the original fifty people, only nine remained, and nobody could guess how many would survive this last trial.

No sooner had they stood in place than a crowd of men and women emerged from the grand tent, laughing and chatting in groups, breaking the quiet of the square. Seeing this throng appear, Elder Ma slapped his chair with force and said coldly, “Quiet! What do you think you’re doing, making such a racket?”

Upon hearing Elder Ma’s rebuke from the high stage, those men and women immediately fell silent, standing neatly on the other side of the platform, afraid to make a move. Elder Ma, his face stern, stood up and looked toward Yang Ze and his group.

With just a glance, Yang Ze and the others felt a heavy pressure descend upon them, compelling them to lower their heads. Even Yang Ze quickly turned his gaze away, not daring to meet Elder Ma’s eyes.

Yang Ze’s heart trembled in awe; so this was the power of a ranked martial artist. A mere look could exert such oppressive force—strength far surpassing the Postnatal Realm.

Elder Ma swept his gaze over all nine, lingering a moment longer on Yang Ze before withdrawing his gaze. The nine let out a collective sigh of relief.

“You nine are what remain from the secular martial artists this time. Good—you should feel fortunate to have reached the final round.

Our Martial Academy’s examination is strict: those whose bone age exceeds twenty, or whose cultivation surpasses the Qi Induction Realm, have no right to enter. That you’ve come this far means you barely meet our requirements.

But since you began training in ordinary martial arts from childhood, I will not treat you as commoners. To enter Wuyang Martial Academy, you must face one last trial.

This test is simple: if you can endure against one person for half the time it takes an incense stick to burn, you will pass and earn the right to join our academy. Wu Yong—step forward.”

With Elder Ma’s call, a burly young man emerged from among the crowd of men and women on the other side. He was tall and imposing, yet still appeared youthful, not yet twenty. Called out by Elder Ma, a hint of displeasure lingered on his face.

Seeing Wu Yong’s hesitation, Elder Ma let out a cold snort, frightening Wu Yong into leaping onto the platform.

His leap drew laughter from the Wuyang Martial Academy disciples. Wu Yong's face reddened with anger, but he could not utter a word.

Yang Ze and the others were not much better off. Had they not feared Wu Yong's status, they might have laughed themselves.

“You—get up here!” Elder Ma had already taken his seat again. The subtle expressions on Yang Ze and his companions’ faces did not escape Wu Yong’s notice. Staring at them fiercely, he spoke with venom.

“Go up,” Yuan Heng, who had retreated to the back, called out when he saw Yang Ze and the others hesitate.

Only then did Yang Ze and the nine ascend to the platform and stand before Wu Yong. Only when they were truly standing there could they feel the faint yet palpable pressure emanating from Wu Yong.

“Wu Yong broke through to First Rank just a month ago, becoming an outer disciple of our Wuyang Martial Academy. Among the disciples I brought today, he’s the weakest. You must endure against him for half an incense stick’s time—do your best.” Elder Ma added, seeing several faces pale at the prospect.

This remark made Wu Yong’s expression darken, but he dared not vent his anger at Elder Ma, so he turned his fury toward Yang Ze and the others.

“Don’t think my recent breakthrough makes me insignificant. I’ll give you a proper lesson. The other group already has twelve who passed; if all nine of you are eliminated, it’s no concern.”

Yang Ze and his companions looked grim. Most of them did not even know what ‘First Rank’ meant, but none dared relax their vigilance. However weak, Wu Yong was still an academy disciple, far beyond their reach.

“Begin!” Elder Ma called out. From his sleeve, half an incense stick flew to the high stage, and with a flick of his finger, it ignited.

As soon as the incense began to burn, Wu Yong moved. Feeling humiliated, he cared nothing for decorum or martial virtue. He stomped his right foot, body shooting forward.

The ten or so yards between them shrank rapidly as Wu Yong charged.

Yang Ze was the first to react, stepping aside swiftly. In a glance, he judged that Wu Yong was not someone he could resist head-on.

As Yang Ze moved, Xu Wenwu and Lu Qing followed suit, darting away. The others, though a step slower, scattered in different directions.

The platform was fifty yards wide; if the nine spread out, perhaps they could evade Wu Yong for half an incense stick’s time.

Seeing everyone opt for evasion, Wu Yong’s lips curled into a cold smile. He lunged at a young aristocrat who had just reached the early stage of Qi Induction.

That young man was retreating when Wu Yong charged at him, panic overtaking him, and he stumbled.

In that moment of instability, Wu Yong was beside him. His right palm struck the man’s body.

A miserable cry escaped him as he was hurled high, flying off the platform and skidding across the ground before coming to a halt, unconscious.

As soon as he fell, someone rushed out and carried him away. Wu Yong knew he could not kill here, so he had held back, leaving the man alive.

After effortlessly defeating one, Wu Yong turned to the remaining eight, smiling and pointing at his next target.

The moment Wu Yong’s finger singled him out, that person’s face changed dramatically. Everyone had seen what happened—Wu Yong’s strength far exceeded theirs, in both power and speed.

Wu Yong watched the man’s reaction, stomped his foot again, and charged forward. Though forty yards separated them, the distance closed swiftly.

The man dared not confront Wu Yong, turning to flee, but his speed was no match. After a few steps, Wu Yong caught him and flung him off the platform.

In less than ten breaths, two had been eliminated—a startling speed.

“These fools really think scattering will let them last against Junior Brother Wu? The power of a First Rank martial artist is beyond the imagination of those in the Qi Induction Realm. All scattering achieves is getting picked off one by one,” remarked the man sitting beside Elder Ma, shaking his head at the scene.

At that moment, Yang Ze realized this as well, shouting, “Everyone, gather together! If we scatter, we’ll just be defeated one by one. Only if we stick together do we stand a chance!”

His cry drew Wu Yong’s attention, who smiled at him.

Yang Ze’s hair stood on end; Wu Yong felt far more terrifying than the Postnatal martial artist who had wielded a blade before.

“Too much talking. I’ll deal with you first,” Wu Yong spat, charging at him. Despite Wu Yong’s fearsome reputation, not one of the others came to Yang Ze’s aid.

Wu Yong rushed forward. Yang Ze, without hesitation, drew his blade, unleashing the Fierce Tiger Descends the Mountain technique, slashing at Wu Yong.

As Wu Yong approached, he sensed a trace of danger from Yang Ze’s blade. He punched out, fist meeting blade.

Blade and fist collided with a loud clang. The blade recoiled, and Yang Ze’s palm throbbed in pain, as if it would split open.

“What are you waiting for? Do you want to be picked off one by one?” Yang Ze shouted again. He knew full well the gap in strength; he could not last three moves against Wu Yong.

Using the force from the collision, Yang Ze retreated, widening the gap, with Wu Yong immediately pursuing.

But this time, the remaining six rallied, launching various attacks at Wu Yong.

Wu Yong’s eyes chilled. He swung his fists at the attackers, and as soon as Lu Qing and the others made contact, they were sent flying.

“You lot can’t even withstand a single move of mine.”

“Oh? Then take one from me!” Yang Ze slammed his blade into the platform, unleashing a surge of force. Cracks appeared beneath Wu Yong’s feet, and suddenly a hole opened, causing Wu Yong to fall through.

Wu Yong, caught off guard, had barely dropped when Lu Qing produced several smoke bombs from his sleeve, tossing them down with a loud bang, filling the air with thick, rolling fog.

Not long after, the ground near Xu Wenwu’s position erupted, and Wu Yong crashed through the floor, appearing behind him.