The shockwaves from Xiao Ke's victory over Li Zhenning were still rippling through the academy, but there was no time to dwell on it. Today was a Day of Battle, a chance for students to claw their way up the rankings, and the dueling grounds were electric with ambition. One after another, cadets challenged those ranked above them. The instructors, Di Shitian and Jiang Youwei, would occasionally interject with sharp commentary, turning each duel into a valuable lesson for everyone watching.
The main event, however, came when the third-ranked Tang Hao challenged the man at the top: Ling Feng. The duel instantly became the most anticipated fight of the day.
Both Ling Feng and Tang Hao were seventh-level Valiants, young prodigies who had reached a tier of power that marked them as future pillars of the Empire. At this level, they were permitted to use lightsabers.
Tang Hao, seeking every possible edge, was the one who proposed it.
Glory Academy had a strict rule: if both combatants were of the Valiant class and both consented, blades could be drawn.
Ling Feng met the challenge without a flicker of fear, his expression calm as he agreed.
Both young men hailed from the nobility—Tang Hao from the lesser Tang clan of Azure Dragon City, and Ling Feng from the prestigious Ling clan of Qilin City. They drew their own private sabers, similar in size to standard-issue military blades but forged with far superior quality.
Xiao Ke had seen a lightsaber in action once before, when Centurion Qin Bing had used one against a horde of zombies. But he'd never witnessed a duel between two masters wielding the incandescent weapons.
He watched, captivated, as Ling Feng and Tang Hao channeled their Origin Power into their blades. In an instant, the cold steel erupted in a brilliant glow, transforming into sabers of pure, humming light. Their blades had subtle differences: Ling Feng's was a cold, clear white, like moonlight, while Tang Hao's held a warmer, ivory hue.
"Begin!" Di Shitian commanded.
The ground beneath Ling Feng's feet exploded. With a thunderous crack, he launched himself into the air, a blur of motion, his blade scything down towards Tang Hao. The air in the massive training hall grew heavy, pressing down on the spectators. Ling Feng's lightsaber cut through it like a white rainbow, and an instinctive shiver of dread ran through the crowd.
Tang Hao was a seventh-level Valiant, the same as his opponent, but he was outmatched in raw power, skill, and experience. He knew he was the underdog. Steeling himself, he raised his own ivory blade to meet the attack, and the duel began in a whirlwind of light and fury.
They exchanged dozens of blows, a blur of motion and crackling energy. Then, Ling Feng's wrist flickered. He delivered a rapid three-thrust combination. The strikes were so fast that the three distinct clangs of lightsaber on lightsaber merged into a single, rolling peal of thunder.
Tang Hao staggered back, the force of the blows rattling him. It was the opening Ling Feng had been waiting for. He pressed his advantage, his lightsaber gliding towards Tang Hao in an arc that seemed deceptively slow. It moved without a sound, yet it carried the chilling whisper of death.
A raw cry of desperation tore from Tang Hao's throat. He frantically summoned every ounce of power from the seven martial nodes flaring to life within him. Like seven miniature volcanoes, they erupted, flooding his body with a final, desperate surge of Origin Power. An ivory-colored shield of light flared into existence around him, shimmering like a flawless piece of porcelain.
The next second, Ling Feng's blade met the shield.
The barrier rippled violently. Spiderwebs of cracks raced across its surface, and then, with a deafening crash, it shattered into a million points of fading starlight. Ling Feng's blade, its momentum unbroken, drew a line of crimson across Tang Hao's chest.
He had held back. The cut wasn't fatal, but Tang Hao froze, drenched in a cold sweat, his face a mask of shock.
A look of clear admiration crossed Di Shitian's face. "Excellent!" he boomed. "Ling Feng is the victor and successfully defends his number one rank!"
It was obvious to Xiao Ke and everyone else that Ling Feng was Di Shitian's star pupil, the instructor's pick for this year's champion.
But the ultimate champion, the Zhuangyuan, wasn't Di Shitian's call to make. He could only nominate his top ten cadets. Those ten would be presented to the Imperial House and invited to accompany the new Emperor on the annual Autumn Hunt. The Emperor himself would make the final judgment based on their records and their performance during the hunt. Only then, in the grand Golden Throne Hall, would he anoint the top three.
Watching the duel, Xiao Ke had a sobering thought. His raw physical strength was enough to dominate the Battle General class, but here, among the Valiants and their lightsabers, brute force wouldn't be enough. He had a long way to go in mastering his Origin Power.
The rest of the day flew by in a flurry of challenges.
As classes ended, Di Shitian distributed the weekly rewards based on the new rankings. Since Ling Feng had already received the priceless Bone Cleansing Pill for his previous victories, his prize for retaining first place was three vials of a shimmering liquid: the Fountain of Origin.
Ye Yun, who held second place, and Tang Hao, in third, each received two vials. The cadets ranked fourth through tenth got one. The next ten received a dose of Angel's Kiss, a powerful healing agent, and those down to fortieth place were given standard-issue military recovery potions. Anyone below that got nothing.
Xiao Ke knew what most of the rewards were for, but the Fountain of Origin was new to him. He stared at the vial in his hand, completely baffled.
Ling Feng leaned over, noticing his confusion. "That's the good stuff," he whispered. "Down one of those, and you get the equivalent of a full month's worth of cultivation."
Xiao Ke's eyes went wide. "That's insane! Couldn't you just use this stuff to create a super-warrior from scratch?"
"You could," Ling Feng said with a small smile, "but a single vial goes for tens of thousands of gold coins on the black market, and that's if you can even find it. Besides, once you hit the Valiant class, the amount of Origin Power you need skyrockets. A lesser noble family could probably afford to boost a soldier to the seventh level, but getting someone to the ninth level? Only the five great families have that kind of money. And as for the Grand General level... they could bankrupt their entire clan and still not have enough. It's best used as a supplement for true elites, not as a shortcut."
He paused, then added with a wry twist of his lips, "Although, it's pretty common for the big families to pump their less-talented heirs full of the stuff. If a scion is too weak, it's embarrassing. So they'll drop a fortune to at least get him to the Valiant class."
"It's no wonder the big families never seem to fall," Xiao Ke mused. "Power gets them wealth, and wealth lets them buy power, even for a worthless heir."
"Exactly," Ling Feng said. "That's why guys like us have to work that much harder if we ever want to make a name for ourselves."
Xiao Ke gave him a sideways glance. "Us? You're from a prestigious noble family. I don't think you and a nobody like me are exactly in the same boat."
Ling Feng was quiet for a moment. "I'm a concubine's son," he said, his voice flat.
Xiao Ke was stunned. A "bastard son" in a noble family had no status, no inheritance. He was treated little better than a servant.
"Hey, it's okay," Xiao Ke said, trying to offer some comfort. "You're the number one student in the elite class. You're going to make it."
Ling Feng just shook his head with a bitter smile. "Don't be fooled. See that guy in second place, Ye Yun? He's a snake. He's the strongest one in our class, but he's intentionally holding back, letting me have the top spot because he doesn't want the attention. Mark my words, when the time is right, he'll take it from me."
Xiao Ke's eyes drifted across the room to Ye Yun. The man was dressed in immaculate white, his skin was flawless, and he was, for lack of a better word, beautiful. He even seemed to carry a faint, pleasant scent.
That... pretty boy... is stronger than Ling Feng?
Xiao Ke and Ling Feng left the training grounds and headed to the cafeteria for dinner. The place was split into two worlds. The first floor was a massive, noisy hall that could seat three thousand students—a sea of commoners and lower-tier cadets. The second floor was a collection of elegant private rooms where you could order off a menu, provided you had the coin.
Most of the students at Glory Academy came from at least minor noble families, so money wasn't usually an issue. The second floor was always bustling with the academy's elite, who wouldn't be caught dead eating the slop served downstairs. It created an unspoken caste system: the first floor was for the nobodies.
Ling Feng, perhaps because of his background as a concubine's son, was usually unpretentious and ate on the first floor for a quick meal. But tonight was different. He was celebrating Xiao Ke's breakthrough into the top ten and insisted on treating him properly. A few of Ling Feng's friends tagged along.
Xiao Ke understood the gesture. His performance today had turned heads. In a world that worshipped strength, ability was currency. It earned you respect, and it attracted the attention of the powerful. Ling Feng, lacking the usual arrogance of his noble-born peers, was smart enough to build alliances. By crushing a sixth-level general, Xiao Ke had just become a person worth knowing. For his part, Xiao Ke knew he needed powerful friends, and an alliance with someone from a noble family, even an outcast, was a good start.
There was just one problem. The second floor was completely booked. Every single private room was taken.
Ling Feng's face flushed with embarrassment.
"Hey, no big deal," Xiao Ke said, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. "Let's just eat downstairs. We can save the real celebration for when we graduate."
Ling Feng, having no other choice, was about to agree when a waiter hurried over. "Sirs, please wait a moment!"
"What is it?" Ling Feng asked, a hint of hope in his voice. "Did a room open up?"
"No, I'm afraid not," the waiter said. "But another guest, a classmate of yours, saw you were without a table. He's dining alone and said it was a shame to drink by himself. He's invited you to join him."
"A classmate?"
Ling Feng and Xiao Ke exchanged a puzzled look. They followed the waiter to a private room at the end of the hall. He slid the door open, and there, sitting alone at a large table, was a single figure.
He was dressed in pristine white, with skin like porcelain and features so fine they could have been carved from ivory. It was the man ranked number two in their class: Ye Yun.
"You!" Ling Feng breathed, unable to hide his surprise.
Ye Yun's gaze drifted over their group, lingering on Xiao Ke for a fraction of a second longer than the others. A faint, knowing smile touched his lips. "Is there a problem? You look surprised."
His voice was soft, melodic, and startlingly feminine.
Ling Feng was deeply wary of Ye Yun. He was certain Ye Yun had thrown their last fight, intentionally handing him the number one spot. The man was playing a long game, avoiding the spotlight for now, and Ling Feng knew that sooner or later, Ye Yun would come to claim his rightful place at the top. It was a constant source of frustration.
"No, not surprised," Ling Feng said, recovering his composure. "Just didn't expect it. If the offer still stands, we'd be happy to join you."
He motioned for Xiao Ke and the others to take a seat. Ling Feng moved to sit on Ye Yun's left, while Xiao Ke took the chair on his right. But before Ling Feng could sit, Ye Yun held up a slender hand, stopping him cold.
"Wait," he said, his voice dropping its pleasant tone. "Don't sit there. I don't like the smell of sweaty men."
Ling Feng's eyes widened, his face darkening with anger.
Xiao Ke, who had just sat down, froze. He fully expected to be kicked out next. But, strangely, Ye Yun said nothing to him. Xiao Ke was stuck in an awkward limbo, unsure if he should stay put or quietly find another seat.
Ling Feng's jaw tightened. Seriously? he thought, fuming. This guy, with his powders and perfumes, is calling me a sweaty man? Who does he think he is?
But his anger quickly morphed into confusion. He realized Ye Yun hadn't said a word to Xiao Ke. Why was he an exception?
To be fair, Xiao Ke, despite his poor background, was meticulous about his hygiene. He was always clean, and while his clothes were cheap, he had a natural, handsome elegance. Dressed in fine silks, he could easily pass for a prince.
It dawned on Ling Feng. The invitation, the shared table—it wasn't for their group. It was for Xiao Ke. Ye Yun was interested in him. And why wouldn't he be? A second-level soldier who could defeat a sixth-level general was an anomaly that would pique anyone's curiosity.
Swallowing his pride, Ling Feng took a different seat. Just then, the waiters began to arrive with the food, and even Ling Feng was stunned. Wild Yellow Croaker, Braised Abalone, Crimson Devil Prawns, Imperial Sea Cucumber, and a dozen other delicacies so extravagant that a single dish cost more than a commoner's yearly wages. This wasn't a meal; it was a banquet. And judging by how quickly it arrived, Ye Yun had ordered it all in advance. This was just how he ate.
Who is this guy?
Ling Feng stared at Ye Yun, a strange feeling creeping over him. The Ye name was famous, of course, belonging to one of the five great families. But Ling Feng had never heard of a prominent son named Ye Yun.
He had, however, heard whispers of a daughter. A daughter named Ye Yun. A once-in-a-generation genius, brilliant and talented, but cursed by her gender. The Empire's nobility forbade women from cultivating power or setting foot on a battlefield. If she had been born a man, she would have been a legend.
A wild, impossible thought struck him. Could it be?
As if sensing his stare, Ye Yun turned. But he ignored Ling Feng completely. His full attention was now on Xiao Ke. He picked up a porcelain wine bottle, his movements graceful and precise, and leaned in.
His smile was disarmingly warm. "Xiao Ke," he asked, his voice soft, "do you drink?"