Hui Mi straightened up, breathing hard.
Steam rose off his body — beads of sweat, sliding down his skin, evaporating instantly in the heat radiating off the lightning wrapped around him. The Cloak of Lightning was growing heavier by the second. He felt the strain not only in every muscle, but in his very consciousness, as though a thousand white-hot needles were driving into his mind all at once.
A little longer, and he'd hit his limit.
Hui Mi shot a quick glance at Zhou Shengyang.
"Hey! I think we need to end this fight as fast as possible."
Zhou Shengyang said nothing. Just a single, short nod.
That was enough.
Over the course of the fight, something like teamwork had formed between them. Not friendship, not even real closeness — more like respect, born from a mutual recognition of each other's strength.
Zhou Shengyang, for his part, looked no better. Several ribs and his collarbone were broken, his breathing came heavy, and his body was covered in the marks of countless blows.
<
The fifth black spirit ring flared beneath Hui Mi's feet.
"Fifth Spirit Skill: Spear of the Myriad Thunder King!"
A tiny black point formed between Hui Mi's palms.
An instant later, it flared to life.
Millions of the thinnest lightning threads began drawing toward it, compressing so tightly that the space around it seemed to tremble. The air filled with crackling, and a sharp smell of burning struck the nose.
The black energy stretched rapidly, taking the shape of a spear in an instant.
It was so black it seemed to swallow the surrounding light whole. A spear woven from lightning, shimmering ominously.
But Hui Mi didn't rush to throw it.
<>
He still didn't know what Hao Ming was capable of once truly cornered. If he threw the spear too early and Hao Ming managed to dodge, Hui Mi would lose on the spot.
At the same moment, Zhou Shengyang's fifth ring flared with black light.
"Fifth Spirit Skill: Sunrise!"
A flash of golden light blinded the training ground.
Zhou Shengyang's body began changing rapidly. His hair seemed wreathed in golden flame. The tiger markings on his skin lit up, blazing into a dazzling gold. His muscles swelled visibly, his frame grew massive, and his height climbed to nearly two and a half meters. He looked, outwardly, like a giant tiger wrapped in solar fire.
<
"Don't fall behind," Zhou Shengyang said curtly.
Hui Mi smirked.
"Who's the one falling behind here?"
Zhou Shengyang lunged forward in a blur. The ground where he'd stood sank, spiderwebbed with cracks.
Hao Ming saw his movement clearly, but his legs refused to obey — as though his body couldn't keep pace with his thoughts.
The massive fist came crashing down from above.
Hao Ming had no choice but to defend, crossing his arms to meet the blow.
CRACK!
A loud, distinct sound rang out across the dormitory grounds.
For the first time in the entire fight, Hao Ming's brow furrowed slightly. Not from pain — from surprise.
<
Zhou Shengyang struck again without hesitation.
Hao Ming tried to pull out of the attack's path, but the blow caught his shoulder.
This time, it sent him flying through the air.
He twisted, landing on his feet, but his soles carved two deep furrows into the ground.
Hao Ming straightened up slowly.
<
At the edge of the field, Hu Cheng was watching just as closely.
<
Hao Ming lowered his head and looked at his own hands.
<
Something was wrong — not with his opponent, but with himself. The lightness that had returned to him a moment ago was fading — slowly, but relentlessly, as though the invisible chains, briefly loosened, had begun tightening around his body once more. With every second, he grew weaker.
<
This was exactly the opening Hui Mi had been waiting for.
His fingers tightened harder around the spear. Millions of hair-thin lightning threads continued spinning furiously, compressed so densely that even the air beside him trembled.
Hui Mi saw everything.
The way Hao Ming's gaze dropped.
The way his shoulders eased, just barely.
The way he took a step back.
Hui Mi spun his body sharply. His fingers opened, and the spear tore free from his hand. With it, even sound itself seemed to vanish. For a split second, absolute silence reigned.
And then —
BA-A-AM! — black lightning ripped through space.
The spear became a streaking black afterimage, leaving cracks in the very air behind it. The atmosphere ahead of it compressed and shattered, and the ground along its path bloomed with patterns of lightning.
In that same split second, Zhou Shengyang, who had already activated his Fourth Spirit Skill in advance, stepped forward and struck with a blazing fist. A blindingly golden beam tore from his knuckles, splitting the air with a deafening, ear-splitting crack — released later, but carrying so much speed and power that it lagged only a few instants behind the spear.
The black spear and the golden beam raced toward Hao Ming from opposite directions, too fast, too perfectly timed, to escape both cleanly.
Hao Ming froze completely — in that instant, it felt as though the ground had dropped out from under him. But what rose inside him wasn't fear.
It was a strange emotion. Hao Ming felt his jaw clench with such force that his teeth seemed ready to crack.
A dull, burning, swelling feeling, rising from somewhere deep in his chest. Something he'd long forgotten, something he hadn't felt in years.
It was anger.
But not at Hui Mi. Not at Zhou Shengyang. At himself. At his own body, betraying him now, of all moments, exactly when he needed his strength most. For ten years he had survived relying on no one but himself; he'd known he could die at any moment — but he refused to stand there helplessly and watch his power drain away. What he'd earned by walking through hell.
<
Watching from the side, Hu Cheng felt, for the first time in the entire fight, not excitement but something closer to disappointment.
<
On one side, a black spear of lightning bore down on Hao Ming; on the other, a beam of fire. Time seemed to slow for an instant. His vision blurred, his gaze going hollow and unfocused for a moment.
<
His body wouldn't obey — as though mired in invisible tar, every muscle answering his command a fraction of a second too late.
<
In that instant, without even realizing the gesture, Hao Ming raised his hands and gripped his own chest — not at the wound, not at his heart, but as though reaching for something deeper, hidden from sight.
And then he felt it.
Not the vague sense of being weighed down that had followed him all morning. A real chain — invisible, but absolutely real, coiled tight inside him like a noose, cinching his chest, his throat, the very depths of his lungs. It wasn't an image. It was as tangible as bone beneath skin.
His arm could barely move as it was, but he seized the invisible chain regardless. Gripped it so hard that the bones in his fingers began to break.
CRACK!
A sound rang out — not the sound of breaking bone, and not the sound of a snapping chain either, but something from outside this world entirely, impossible to describe.
In that moment, the chain snapped.
A wave followed instantly, rolling through his body from his chest to the tips of his fingers. The wave seemed to fill some small emptiness inside him.
Hao Ming swayed aside — not far enough to dodge both attacks cleanly, but enough that Hui Mi's spear, aimed for his chest, only pierced his left shoulder instead, and Zhou Shengyang's golden beam scorched the entirety of his right arm rather than consuming him whole.
Heat and pain washed over his skin at once. The wounds remained — but he was still standing.
Both strikes slammed into the ground behind him with a deafening crack, leaving two massive, smoking craters.
Silence fell over the training ground.
Hao Ming straightened slowly. Both arms hung useless — his right, charred black, dangling limp at his side, while blood pulsed from the hole in his left shoulder left by the spear, spreading into a dark pool beneath his feet. Thin black lightning marks were already crawling across the skin around the wound, worming into the flesh like poison. His breath came ragged. But his face showed neither relief nor fear. Only a cold, unsettling clarity.
<
Hui Mi was completely spent — his spirit power drained to the very last drop. Zhou Shengyang was holding up only slightly better: Sunrise was nearing its end, and pain now radiated through every part of his body. But worst of all was Hao Ming — it looked as though he might slip out of this world at any moment.
"Ha... I think it's time to end this spar," Hu Cheng said. It was written plainly in his eyes: all three of them had reached their limit.
But at that moment, something happened that no one could have anticipated.
Hao Ming vanished.
In the next instant, he was already standing beside Hui Mi — so fast that the boy didn't even manage to lift his head. Hao Ming seized his right arm, the very one that had thrown the spear, and wrenched it at the joint with one sharp, merciless motion.
The bone gave way with a wet, sickening crunch.
Hui Mi didn't even have time to scream before Hao Ming sent him into a short, terrible flight. His body slammed into the nearest tree with a dull thud, the trunk splitting at its base, and Hui Mi slumped at the roots, unconscious before he even touched the ground.
Hao Ming didn't stop. In the same instant, he was already beside Zhou Shengyang.
The boy only managed to lift his eyes — nothing more. Hao Ming grabbed a fistful of his hair and drove his face into the ground with such force that the earth split apart, cracks spidering out in every direction.
Zhou Shengyang gasped, still clinging to consciousness — and then Hao Ming brought his foot down from above, striking precisely at the knee.
The bone snapped with a dry, final crack.
He raised his foot for the next strike —
Hu Cheng appeared behind him faster than anyone could blink. A short, precise blow to the base of the neck, and Hao Ming went limp.
Sheng Ming went so pale she looked almost translucent — but in the next instant she was already moving. Green light from the Tree of Life flared around her hands. She ran first to Hui Mi.
"Phew... the wounds aren't as bad as they look."
Qin Ye didn't move. She saw nothing horrifying in the scene — but her attention stayed fixed on Hao Ming.
<
Jin Luo exhaled slowly, sinking back down onto the ground — but his eyes stayed wide open.
"What a morning," he muttered quietly, to no one in particular. "Looks like fourth year's going to be a real thorn in the side."
Xiao Yu, who was always smiling, had grown noticeably serious. It was as though he'd understood something no one else had caught — as though a piece had just clicked into place in his mind.
<
Hu Cheng crouched down beside Hao Ming, studying his calm, expressionless face — blank even unconscious. For the first time all morning, not a trace of his usual carefree manner remained on his own.
<>