While Luo Feng and Wei Wen were deep in the Wilderness honing their real-world combat skills and pushing their strength further every day, a quiet stir was taking place at the headquarters of the Dojo of Limits.
After receiving confirmation from Inspector Wang, Yang Hui immediately passed along the news to Zhou Zhengyong: Luo Feng and Wei Wen had both secured a place to participate in the upcoming Elite Training Camp assessment in late August.
Jiangnan Base City — rooftop helipad of the Dojo of Limits HQ.
Zhou Zhengyong, President of the Dojo's Jiangnan branch, stood waiting with his three top directors. These four men were the backbone of the Dojo's power in this region.
"President, this emissary from headquarters… this isn't ordinary, is it? Any idea who they're sending?" Zhuge Tao asked, curiosity laced with concern.
Since the Great Nirvana period, the skies had become infested with terrifying flying monsters. Commercial or military aircraft weren't viable options for everyday use anymore. Only those with vast resources could afford to operate in the skies, where even the smallest slip-up could mean death.
Passenger jets were now so expensive that their cost rivaled — or even exceeded — that of pre-Nirvana aircraft carriers.
And yet, here they were, summoned to the roof to await someone arriving by air. That alone told them everything — whoever was coming wasn't normal.
Zhou Zhengyong chuckled. "The application I submitted for Luo Feng and Wei Wen to join the Elite Training Camp? Headquarters approved it almost instantly. No back-and-forth, no delays."
"That kind of reaction? That tells me they're taking this very seriously. They've dispatched a special envoy personally to conduct the review."
"And the fact that we've been asked to receive them on the roof means it's someone arriving by private aircraft — someone extremely high-level. Possibly even above the God of War class."
Normally, decisions about camp slots could be made by anyone at the peak of God of War rank or just below it. A basic review didn't warrant someone so high up.
But this wasn't a normal case.
Both Wei Wen and Luo Feng had reportedly mastered the first two stages of the Ninefold Thunderblade Technique — a difficult thunder-element sword style — in under ten days. Even someone like Thunder God, one of the planet's top powerhouses, might not have achieved that.
If the reports were accurate, it meant their talent and comprehension rivaled the legendary Thunder God himself.
When Inspector Wang saw the report, even Hong, the enigmatic Curator of the Dojo of Limits, took notice.
Hong and Thunder God were like brothers, and Hong knew exactly how freakishly talented Thunder God was. So, when he heard these two kids had caught up to that level in mere days, he wanted answers.
As the four leaders were still wondering who this envoy might be, a sudden shockwave of wind tore through the sky. A streak of light pierced through the clouds and rapidly descended toward the Dojo of Limits building.
It slowed abruptly midair, bypassed the city's automated defense grid, and touched down on the rooftop with eerie grace.
It was a sleek, triangular aircraft. The way the sunlight danced across its obsidian-like frame made everyone's heart skip a beat.
Zhou Zhengyong's eyes widened. "A Universe-Grade Smart Fighter?!"
To put that in perspective: a Dragonblood-class aircraft cost 80 billion yuan — and that was at half price. But this? A Universe-Grade fighter ran into the trillions. That kind of gear wasn't just expensive — it was rare, nearly mythical.
No ordinary God of War could afford something like that. This had to be someone seated above the Council level.
Beep.
Before the hatch even opened, the four men hurried to the landing ramp, standing at respectful attention.
The hatch slid open, and a shimmer of light coalesced in the air — forming into a black-robed figure descending gracefully from the aircraft.
She wore the signature Black God Suit, an advanced high-density combat armor, and a smooth golden mask that covered most of her face. Only her eyes, nose, and mouth were visible.
Still, her presence left no doubt: she was a woman.
And there weren't many women on the planet who stood above the God of War level. In fact, there was only one in the entire Dojo of Limits hierarchy who matched that profile.
Yaorao.
One of Hong's three personal guards.
Handpicked by Hong himself, Yaorao and the other two personal guards held power even greater than most of the Dojo's top inspectors. They didn't act on behalf of the Dojo's council.
They acted on behalf of Hong — the supreme master of the Dojo of Limits and one of the strongest humans alive.
"Welcome, Honored Envoy!" Zhou Zhengyong bowed low, and the other three followed suit.
Yaorao's appearance confirmed what they suspected. Hong wasn't just interested — he was personally invested in what Luo Feng and Wei Wen were doing.
"I've come to audit the application from Jiangnan Base City for Luo Feng and Wei Wen's entry into the Elite Training Camp," Yaorao said flatly, wasting no time.
"The Curator wants verification, and there must be no discrepancies. Submit all intelligence gathered on their strength and daily training records."
"Of course," Zhou Zhengyong replied, handing her two sealed dossiers.
Zhuge Tao and Zhou exchanged uneasy glances. They knew what was inside — but it was up to Yaorao now.
Yaorao flipped through the files. Her eyes narrowed slightly, then raised her head.
"Luo Feng — diligent, focused, gifted. His progress makes sense."
Then her gaze moved to the second file.
"But Wei Wen..." she trailed off, voice sharp with curiosity. "If he'd started cultivating six years ago, he'd already be far past the God of War level by now. What the hell has he been doing all this time?"
"I'll contact Lu Gang immediately to bring them back," Zhou offered quickly.
"No need," Yaorao cut in. "The Curator has assigned this to me personally. I'll go to them myself. I need to see it — to witness their mastery of the Ninefold Thunderblade firsthand."
"They're currently in the Wilderness Area. I sent Lu Gang with them to guide their combat training," Zhou explained.
"Then all I need is Lu Gang's location."
God of War-ranked warriors were easy to track thanks to the War God Palace's shared network system — a method even ordinary Council members like Li Yao had used before.
Yaorao, being a personal envoy of Hong, had even higher access.
Moments later, she located Lu Gang's coordinates.
Back in the aircraft, Yaorao boarded swiftly.
"Show me the satellite projection of their current location," she ordered the onboard AI.
"Affirmative."
A holographic projection bloomed to life inside the cabin — a 3D satellite feed of the battlefield. Wei Wen and Luo Feng were mid-combat, surrounded by monstrous beasts.
"ROAR—"
A mutated Tiger Cat monster, bloodied and enraged, was barreling toward them. Overhead, swarms of flying beasts descended like a tidal wave.
But even as chaos erupted around them, Wei Wen's footwork was flawless. His movement technique had transcended form and become an art. Every pivot, every sidestep was efficient and effortless, flowing with the terrain as if he were water itself.
Luo Feng, bolstered by his telekinetic Mental Force, demonstrated a movement technique that closely approached the Micro-Control Level — a degree of bodily control where motion is refined down to the smallest muscle fiber.
To the untrained eye, there was no difference between their movements and that of a true Micro-Control master.
And even to an expert like Yaorao, what she was seeing was rare — and real.