The clash between Zhao Mu and Zhu Meng was nothing short of explosive.
From the very first exchange, the arena was filled with the relentless sound of metal striking metal—clang, bang, crack!—a chaotic rhythm that echoed across the entire training ground. Sparks flew with every collision, and the force behind each blow made the air tremble.
This was not a cautious duel.
It was a direct confrontation between two warriors who specialized in strength.
Neither man gave ground.
Neither man retreated.
Zhu Meng wielded a broad saber—shorter, lighter, and faster. Though it lacked reach, it granted him superior speed and flexibility. He had always relied on that advantage in battle.
But today, that advantage meant nothing.
Standing opposite him, Zhao Mu held a massive heavenly halberd in one hand.
A weapon of such size and weight should have been slow.
Cumbersome.
Difficult to control.
Yet in Zhao Mu's hands, it moved like an extension of his body.
Fast.
Precise.
Unstoppable.
Zhu Meng's expression gradually shifted from confidence to disbelief.
"How… is he this strong?"
Even in his Beast Transformation state, Zhu Meng felt pressure mounting with every exchange. His arms trembled slightly from the repeated collisions.
This wasn't just a difference in strength.
It was a difference in mastery.
Both of them cultivated intermediate combat techniques.
But their paths had diverged from the very beginning.
Zhu Meng had focused directly on power, advancing through his technique Beast King's Fury, prioritizing explosive strength and aggression.
Zhao Mu, on the other hand, had taken a different route.
Before advancing, he had mastered the most basic Introductory Halberd Technique to perfection.
Every movement.
Every angle.
Every shift in grip and stance.
He had refined them all to the extreme.
Because of this, his control—his micro-adjustments, timing, and reactions—had reached an astonishing level.
Zhu Meng could only keep up because of his higher combat level.
But even that advantage was slowly being eroded.
"Clang!"
"Clang!"
"Clang!"
Zhu Meng's saber struck again and again, each blow carrying immense force.
Yet every time, Zhao Mu's halberd intercepted it at exactly the right moment.
It was as if Zhao Mu could see the future.
No matter how Zhu Meng attacked, his trajectory was predicted and blocked before it could land.
But when Zhao Mu attacked…
Zhu Meng struggled.
Each swing of the halberd carried terrifying weight.
Blocking it required all his strength.
And even then, he felt himself being pushed back.
Thirty moves passed in the blink of an eye.
The surrounding trainees had already retreated, leaving a wide empty space in the training ground.
No one dared step close.
No one wanted to be caught in the shockwaves of that battle.
Then—
Zhu Meng's foot slipped back.
Just one step.
But that single step shattered the balance of the fight.
A collective gasp rose from the crowd.
"In a contest of strength… Zhu Meng lost?"
Zhao Mu's eyes flashed sharply.
He had been waiting for this moment.
"It's over."
"Hegemon Sheds Armor!"
Zhao Mu activated his killing move.
Spiritual power surged through his body like a raging river. The heavenly halberd in his hands glowed with a deep crimson light, as if soaked in blood.
A terrifying aura burst forth.
It wasn't just power.
It was killing intent.
The kind forged on battlefields.
The kind that crushed the spirit.
For a brief moment, Zhu Meng's vision blurred.
The training ground disappeared.
In its place, he saw a battlefield littered with corpses.
Mountains of the dead.
Rivers of blood.
And at the center of it all stood Zhao Mu—
No longer a trainee.
But a warlord.
A general drenched in slaughter.
Zhu Meng's mind faltered.
Just for a second.
But in battle, a second was everything.
Zhao Mu moved.
The halberd swept forward like a streak of crimson lightning.
Zhu Meng's pupils shrank.
He raised his saber instinctively to block—
Clang!
But something was wrong.
The moment the weapons touched, Zhao Mu twisted his wrist.
The halberd changed direction mid-swing.
The blade slid past the saber and cut toward Zhu Meng's neck.
The speed of the transition was unbelievable.
It defied common sense.
To everyone watching, it seemed as though the halberd had a will of its own.
Zhao Mu's control had reached the level of instinct.
Effortless.
Natural.
As if moving a finger.
Zhu Meng stumbled back, barely dodging the strike.
His breathing became erratic.
His footing unstable.
The battle had already been decided.
But Zhao Mu showed no mercy.
He stepped forward immediately, closing the distance.
Gripping the halberd with both hands, he raised it high.
Then—
He unleashed his ultimate technique.
Army Breaker: Seven Consecutive Slashes!
The first strike came down like thunder.
Zhu Meng blocked it.
The second followed instantly, heavier than the first.
He barely held on.
The third.
The fourth.
The fifth—
Each strike came faster than the last.
Stronger than the last.
The halberd became a storm.
A relentless, crushing barrage.
Zhu Meng gritted his teeth, desperately defending.
But by the sixth strike—
His saber flew from his hands.
Spinning through the air before landing far away.
And then came the seventh strike.
The final blow.
The most powerful of them all.
It descended toward his neck—
And stopped.
Silence fell over the training ground.
The halberd's blade hovered just inches from Zhu Meng's throat.
Not a hair closer.
Not a fraction too far.
Perfect control.
Absolute precision.
The terrifying force behind the strike vanished instantly, as if it had never existed.
Heavy… turned light.
This single moment stunned everyone present.
It wasn't the power that shocked them.
It wasn't the speed.
It was the control.
To unleash such overwhelming strength—and then stop it completely at the final moment—
What kind of mastery was required?
Zhao Mu lowered the halberd slightly.
"Just like you said," he said calmly, "we stop before serious injury."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
The battle intent in his eyes had not fully faded.
Zhu Meng stood there, stunned.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then—
He laughed.
Loudly.
Freely.
"Zhao Mu… you're incredible!"
"I admit defeat!"
He cupped his fists respectfully.
"From today onward, I'll follow you as my captain."
There was no resentment in his voice.
No unwillingness.
He had lost completely.
And he accepted it wholeheartedly.
The entire training ground fell into an uproar.
No one had expected this outcome.
Zhu Meng—
A Combat Level 8 warrior—
Had been defeated by Zhao Mu—
A mere Combat Level 4.
And not through tricks.
Not through luck.
But through sheer skill and strength.
"How is this possible?"
Many trainees stared in disbelief.
Their level was too low to understand what they had witnessed.
To them, it felt like a miracle.
Among the crowd, Mo Guanguan watched quietly.
She wasn't surprised.
For some reason, she had always believed Zhao Mu would win.
He gave her a sense of certainty.
Of calm confidence.
He never acted without preparation.
Never fought without purpose.
As long as he stepped forward—
Victory seemed inevitable.
Not far away, Shao Han stood frozen.
His eyes were wide.
His expression twisted.
"How… can he be this strong?"
He and Zhao Mu had attended the same school for twelve years.
Twelve years.
And in all that time—
He had never defeated him.
At first, it had been rivalry.
Later, resignation.
But when Zhao Mu awakened only an E-rank talent, Shao Han had finally seen hope.
Hope that he could surpass him.
And now—
That hope had been shattered.
Once again.
It felt like fate was mocking him.
Playing with him.
Treating him like a joke.
The followers around him exchanged uneasy glances.
They all knew.
Shao Han and Zhao Mu were not on good terms.
"Boss…" one of them said carefully, "why is Zhao Mu so strong? If this continues… we won't be able to deal with him."
Shao Han snorted coldly.
"Why panic?"
"I'm about to reach Private Rank."
"When that happens, suppressing him will be easy."
His tone was confident.
But deep inside—
A seed of unease had already taken root.
As the crowd continued to buzz with excitement, Zhao Mu stood calmly at the center of the arena.
The halberd rested quietly in his hand.
The battle was over.
But for him—
This was only the beginning.
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