The pressure Bai Meimei exerted was overwhelming.
Her sharp gaze swept across the formation like a blade, and even the more rebellious Cadet Soldiers instinctively straightened their backs. Shao Han clenched his jaw, shooting Zhao Mu one last resentful glare before stepping back into line. No matter how unwilling he felt, he understood that challenging authority here would only bring unnecessary trouble.
Everyone present had come from the semi-militarized Yuwu Middle School. Discipline was not unfamiliar to them. Within moments, the students reorganized themselves into four neat teams, their movements efficient and practiced.
Yet even as they stood in orderly rows, traces of defiance lingered in some of their eyes.
It wasn't that they didn't understand military rules.
They were simply young.
Full of energy.
Full of pride.
And unwilling to let that pride be easily crushed.
Bai Meimei noticed the subtle tension in their expressions but chose not to say anything further. Words were unnecessary now.
Because the real instructors had arrived.
Three figures in military uniforms walked forward with firm, steady steps. The atmosphere shifted instantly.
The air itself seemed to grow heavier.
At the front stood Xu Zhixiong, a towering man over two meters tall. His massive frame was like an iron fortress, his bronze skin gleaming faintly under the morning sun. His eyes were sharp and steady, like a predator calmly observing prey.
Beside him stood Instructor Xie Yingxue. Today, she wore a fitted military uniform instead of her usual attire, though she still held a folder tucked under one arm. Her expression remained cold and composed, like snow atop a distant mountain peak.
The third instructor, Zhang Biao, stood half a head taller than Xie Yingxue. His thick beard framed a broad mouth that curved into a wolfish grin. There was something almost feral about him.
He stepped forward.
"Welcome to hell, pumpkins!"
His voice wasn't shouted, yet it carried effortlessly across the field.
"Starting today, you will undergo one full month of New Recruit training here!"
He paced slowly before the formation, boots striking the ground with measured force.
"In this one month, I will remake you."
His grin widened.
"Or to put it more clearly—I will make you shed a layer of skin!"
A ripple of tension passed through the ranks.
"During training, you may not miss a single session for any reason. If you do, you will be severely punished!"
"During training, the instructor's command is absolute. Disobedience will result in severe punishment!"
"During training, you may not speak without permission. Raise your hand, report first, then speak. Violators will be severely punished!"
He stopped pacing and slowly swept his gaze across the group.
His smile now resembled that of a jackal watching trapped prey.
"And here's a piece of advice—do not attempt to challenge an instructor's dignity."
His voice softened slightly.
"Because if you do, it will be an experience you will never forget."
The silence was suffocating.
"Of course," he added casually, "there is another option. You may withdraw now and be reassigned to the Front Line."
The words fell heavily.
No one moved.
Zhao Mu stood quietly within the formation, hands clasped behind his back. He had mentally prepared himself before coming here. Qingfeng Camp was no ordinary training ground. This was where the strong were forged.
After Zhang Biao finished, Instructor Xie Yingxue stepped forward.
Her tone was colder but equally authoritative.
"In this Boot Camp, you must strive to be first."
Her pen tapped lightly against the folder.
"To encourage competition, all participants will receive academic credits based on performance."
A flicker of interest passed through the crowd.
"Especially the top three," she continued. "They will receive additional rewards."
"First place: fifty academic credits."
"Second place: thirty academic credits."
"Third place: twenty academic credits."
A murmur spread through the trainees.
"Qingfeng Camp operates entirely on an academic credit system. Everything here can be exchanged for credits—resources, training opportunities, even advancement."
She paused briefly.
"To advance from the Primary Camp to the Intermediate Camp, you must accumulate one thousand academic credits within five years."
The weight of her words settled in.
"Cherish this opportunity."
Zhao Mu's eyes sharpened.
Fifty credits.
That was no small reward.
At this rate, earning a thousand credits would take years of effort. Securing first place here would significantly accelerate his progress.
I must take first place.
His resolve hardened.
Not far away, Shao Han's lips curved into a faint smile.
As the son of the deputy commander of the garrison, he knew Qingfeng Camp's systems well. He had grown up hearing about its training programs, evaluation standards, and internal competition.
He possessed an informational advantage.
This Boot Camp would be his stage.
"The better I perform now, the more attention I'll receive from high-level officials."
"And attention means resources."
His gaze briefly swept toward Zhao Mu.
"Besides those two unknown A-rank recruits, no one here can compete with me."
He sneered inwardly.
"Zhao Mu… I'll show you how insignificant your previous strength is in the world of Spirit Power Users."
Zhang Biao clapped loudly, snapping everyone back to attention.
"It's early morning. You all look energetic."
His eyes gleamed.
"Let's start simple. A few laps of running as a warm-up."
Several Cadet Soldiers nearly relaxed.
Running?
A thousand-meter track lay right beside them. Even ten laps would not be a challenge.
Zhao Mu, however, did not move.
Running?
It wouldn't be that simple.
Right on cue, a large military truck drove up in front of the formation.
Its engine rumbled before shutting off.
The back of the truck was loaded with thick logs—each roughly twenty to thirty centimeters in diameter and over two meters long.
The trainees' expressions changed instantly.
Zhang Biao clapped again.
"One log per person!"
"You may stop only when I say stop!"
The logs looked heavy enough to crush bones.
Each one weighed at least one to two hundred jin.
Carrying that while running laps?
This was no warm-up.
It was punishment.
"Report!"
A voice rang out from the first row.
Zhao Mu glanced over.
The speaker was a tall, resolute-looking young man—Zhu Meng, one of the B-rank Special Recruits. Though the same age as the others, he carried himself with unusual steadiness.
Zhang Biao looked at him. "Speak."
Zhu Meng's expression remained calm.
"Instructor, are we allowed to use Spiritual Ability?"
A faint smile appeared beneath Zhang Biao's beard.
"Good question."
"You may use any power you possess."
He paused deliberately.
"I only care about results."
A wave of relief spread through the formation.
If they had to rely solely on physical strength, most wouldn't last a single lap.
But with Spiritual Ability, things changed.
The most basic application was Entanglement—wrapping Spiritual Energy around the body to enhance physical capability.
"Any more questions?"
Silence.
"Then begin!"
Instructor Xie Yingxue opened her folder fully, pen poised.
Every movement would be recorded.
Every flaw would be noted.
The competition had begun.
One by one, trainees stepped forward to receive their logs.
When Shen Moran's turn came, she inhaled deeply.
Though not physically weak, she was not built like the more muscular recruits. As the heavy log settled onto her shoulder, her knees bent slightly under the weight.
Then—
A subtle fluctuation of power rippled outward.
Her Space Element Spiritual Ability activated.
Though she hadn't yet achieved full Characteristic Conversion, she skillfully manipulated spatial distortion around the log.
The weight lessened instantly.
Her breathing steadied.
She adjusted her grip and began running.
Instructor Xie Yingxue's eyes flickered with approval.
"Space Element. Intelligent application. Excellent comprehension."
Soon after, Shao Han approached the truck.
He glanced at the logs with barely concealed confidence.
"My father trained me under military discipline since childhood."
"What are these compared to that?"
He lifted the log smoothly onto his shoulder.
Spiritual Energy surged across his body like flowing water, then condensed toward his legs, shoulders, and waist.
Condensation.
A basic yet essential technique.
The reinforcement made his movements lighter and more explosive.
He dashed forward.
His pace was clearly faster than most.
Zhao Mu stepped forward next.
He didn't rush.
He observed.
Different trainees used different methods—some reinforced muscles, others distributed force evenly, and a few relied on brute strength.
When the log settled on Zhao Mu's shoulder, he felt its raw heaviness.
He did not immediately use flashy techniques.
Instead, he allowed his Spiritual Energy to circulate naturally through his meridians, reinforcing his entire frame in balanced harmony.
Step.
Step.
Step.
His breathing remained steady.
No wasted motion.
No visible strain.
He accelerated gradually, catching up to the main group without appearing hurried.
The track soon filled with the sound of synchronized footsteps and labored breathing.
The sun rose higher.
Sweat began to soak uniforms.
At first, everyone maintained confidence.
But after three laps—
The difference became clear.
Some trainees' Spiritual Energy control began to falter.
Logs shifted dangerously on shoulders.
Breathing grew ragged.
Instructor Zhang Biao watched with predatory amusement.
"This is just the beginning."
He folded his arms.
"Let's see who breaks first."
The true purpose of this weighted run was not physical exhaustion alone.
It was observation.
Control under pressure.
Endurance.
Willpower.
Who conserved energy wisely?
Who wasted it recklessly?
Who adapted?
Who panicked?
As the fifth lap began, a trainee stumbled, nearly dropping his log.
Zhang Biao's voice thundered instantly.
"Pick it up!"
The trainee gritted his teeth and obeyed.
No one dared complain.
Ahead, Shao Han maintained a strong pace, but a vein bulged slightly at his temple.
Zhu Meng ran steadily, expression unchanged.
Shen Moran maintained efficient spatial manipulation, though her forehead glistened with sweat.
Zhao Mu continued silently.
His breathing remained controlled.
His Spiritual Energy circulation smooth.
Every step precise.
This wasn't just running.
It was competition.
And only those who endured to the end would truly stand at the top.
The sun climbed higher.
The heat intensified.
Yet no one knew how many laps remained.
Because Zhang Biao had said only one thing—
"You stop when I say stop."
And he had not spoken again.
The real test had only just begun.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)