Chapter 13: Tempering
As his voice fell, Qian Yang flicked his wrist, and the black-and-red God-Slaying Spear instantly dissipated in his palm, as if it had never appeared—just like how Spirit Masters in the Douluo Continent could retract their Martial Spirits back into their bodies after use.
He sat straight back down in his seat, picked up the immortal herb illustrated guide on the corner of the table, and traced his fingertip over the illustration of the "Blazing Apricot Delicate Yang Grass."
This immortal herb, recorded alongside the "Octagonal Mysterious Ice Grass," was known in ancient Spirit Hall texts as a top-tier Yin-Yang complementary treasure. Just like the legendary opportunity once obtained by Tang San in the Ice and Fire Yin Yang Well, consuming it improperly could cause the body to combust from extreme Yang energy.
His gaze was focused, as if the conflict with Yan and the clash with Xie Yue just now were merely insignificant interludes, and he did not glance at the crowd behind him again.
Teacher Li, standing by the podium, slowly withdrew his right hand that had been pressed against his side and hid it behind his back—the recoil from taking Qian Yang's spear head-on still made his right hand tremble slightly. He could even feel the lingering, cold murderous aura in his palm, similar to the oppressive killing intent recorded in Spirit Hall archives about those who had stepped into the Slaughter City.
He took a deep breath, suppressing the shock in his heart, scanned the classroom, and said in a deep voice, "I know some of you have noble status, but in my class, everyone is just a student; there is no special treatment!
If you dare to fight privately in class again, no matter who you are, I will punish you according to the academy rules, and I will not show any leniency!"
These words were meant for Yan and Qian Yang, as well as for all the students in the classroom.
After finishing, Teacher Li glanced at Qian Yang, who was still focused on the immortal herb illustrated guide, and then at Yan, whose expression was ugly and whose burning Flame Lord aura had already dissipated.
In the end, he didn't say anything more, turned around, picked up his lesson plans, and left the classroom—he couldn't afford to offend either side. One was connected to the Angel lineage of Spirit Hall, while the other was part of Bibi Dong's personally cultivated Golden Generation. The only thing he could do was end this awkward farce as soon as possible.
In the back row of the classroom, Hu Liena looked at Qian Yang's back, her eyes filled with disbelief.
As the personal disciple of Supreme Pontiff Bibi Dong, and someone whose Martial Spirit was the Fox Spirit that excelled in charm and control, she had always stood at the peak among her peers. With innate full spirit power and carefully guided cultivation, she, Xie Yue, and Yan were regarded as the future pillars of Spirit Hall.
But seeing Qian Yang today, she truly understood what it meant to have "someone beyond monsters"—a first spirit ring at the thousand-year level, a terrifying combat power that could suppress Xie Yue head-on, and that ominous God-Slaying Spear whose aura even made her spiritual senses feel suppressed.
In front of Qian Yang, the pride she once held seemed to crumble.
Hesitating for a moment, Hu Liena stood up, walked lightly to Qian Yang's desk, and said in a somewhat cautious voice, "Qian Yang, I'm sorry... Yan was too aggressive just now. I apologize to you on his behalf, please don't take it to heart."
She understood clearly—although Yan had acted out of impulse, provoking someone with both terrifying strength and the backing of the Qian family was extremely unwise. Even within Spirit Hall, the Angel lineage represented by Qian Daoliu held a transcendent position.
Qian Yang's fingers, which were turning the pages, paused, but he did not look up.
His gaze remained fixed on the immortal herb illustrated guide, and he did not even give Hu Liena a glance.
He had no favorable impression of the so-called Golden Generation to begin with. Furthermore, although Hu Liena appeared to be apologizing, she deliberately avoided mentioning Yan's mockery of Qian Renxue.
In his eyes, this apology was nothing more than superficial politeness.
Hu Liena stood there. Seeing that Qian Yang had no intention of responding, a trace of embarrassment flashed across her face.
Her lips moved slightly, but in the end, she said nothing more and silently returned to her seat.
The classroom fell into complete silence, leaving only the faint sound of pages turning.
The surrounding students no longer dared to whisper. They only occasionally cast cautious glances at Qian Yang, their eyes filled with awe and fear.
This new student was not only overwhelmingly powerful, but also cold to the extreme—even Hu Liena's initiative to apologize was ignored. Such a person was clearly not someone they could afford to provoke.
Qian Yang paid no attention to any of this. His mind was entirely immersed in the immortal herb illustrated guide.
He carefully memorized the growth environments, medicinal properties, mutual compatibilities, and lethal dangers of each Immortal Herb. In the Douluo Continent, these treasures could directly reshape a Spirit Master's physique and even raise Martial Spirit quality—something far more valuable than ordinary spirit rings.
It was not until the bell rang for lunch that Qian Yang slowly closed the immortal herb illustrated guide, carefully tucked it into his bosom, and stood up to leave the classroom.
The curriculum at Spirit Hall Academy was relatively relaxed. Mornings were dedicated to theory—covering spirit beasts, spirit rings, Martial Spirit classifications, and combat theory—while afternoons were reserved for cultivation or simulated combat training grounds, much like the Spirit Arena used for practical battles.
But Qian Yang did not linger. He headed straight for the academy gate.
At the gate, the maid who had escorted him the previous day was already waiting beside the carriage emblazoned with the Spirit Hall insignia.
Seeing Qian Yang approach, she quickly stepped forward and bowed respectfully, "Young Master Qian Yang, are you returning to Spirit Hall?"
"Yes," Qian Yang replied indifferently as he stepped into the carriage.
The interior remained soft and comfortable. He leaned back against the cushion, but instead of resting, he began reviewing the earlier battle in his mind.
Although he had easily suppressed Yan and even overpowered Xie Yue, he clearly recognized a flaw—his control over his spirit power and the God-Slaying Spear was still not refined enough. If he encountered an opponent at the level of a true Spirit King or above, raw power alone would not guarantee victory.
The carriage moved steadily through Spirit City, and before long, the towering silhouette of Spirit Hall appeared ahead.
Qian Yang stepped down from the carriage and began ascending the three thousand white jade steps leading toward the Hall of Worship.
Each step gleamed under the sunlight, exuding solemnity and holiness. This was the core of Spirit Hall's faith—the place where the Angel God was worshipped.
He climbed steadily, his brows slightly furrowed in thought.
After absorbing the hundred-thousand-year spirit bone, his spirit power had surged to Rank 30, making him a Spirit Elder. However, unlike normal Spirit Masters who advanced step by step, his rapid growth had left his control lacking precision.
What he needed now was not more power—but tempering.
Soon, he entered the Hall of Worship.
The vast hall was solemn and dignified. At its center stood the statue of the Angel God, radiating a sacred golden aura. Beneath it, Qian Daoliu and Gold Crocodile Douluo sat cross-legged in meditation, their bodies surrounded by layered halos of spirit power—one pure gold, the other dark gold—interweaving like flowing currents.
"Xiao Yang is back."
Qian Daoliu was the first to sense him. He slowly opened his eyes, a faint smile appearing. "Did you gain anything from your classes at the academy today?"
Qian Yang stepped forward. Instead of answering, he spoke directly:
"Grandfather, Grandfather Gold Crocodile, can you release spirit power pressure?"
Qian Daoliu's smile deepened slightly. He glanced at Gold Crocodile Douluo beside him.
"Old Second, it seems our Xiao Yang finds his progress too slow. Why don't you test him?"
Gold Crocodile Douluo opened his eyes, his gaze filled with approval. A faint grin appeared on his face as his spirit power began to circulate.
"Alright. Let me see how much you've improved after refining that hundred-thousand-year spirit bone."
As his voice fell, a surge of dark golden pressure descended, precisely controlled to the upper limit of what a Rank 30 Spirit Elder could endure.
Qian Yang's body sank slightly, as if an invisible mountain had been placed upon him. His breathing stalled for a brief moment.
But he quickly stabilized himself, circulating his spirit power to resist.
Moments later, he lifted his head, eyes burning with determination.
"Grandfather Gold Crocodile—not enough. Stronger."
Gold Crocodile Douluo raised an eyebrow in surprise.
This level of pressure already exceeded that of an ordinary Spirit Elder. Yet Qian Yang was still standing firm?
Without hesitation, he increased the output. The pressure surged again, now reaching the threshold of a Spirit King.
The air grew heavy.
Qian Yang's body trembled slightly, his knees bending as sweat formed on his forehead.
But he endured.
Within his dantian, the Taiji diagram rotated steadily, guiding his spirit power in smooth cycles, dispersing the oppressive force layer by layer.
"More!" he shouted again, stubborn resolve evident in his voice.
Gold Crocodile Douluo's expression finally turned serious.
He inhaled deeply, and this time released a far greater pressure—Spirit Emperor level!
Boom!
Dark golden light flooded the hall. Even the Angel God statue seemed to be coated in a layer of heavy brilliance, and the air itself felt solid.
"Xiao Yang, this is Spirit Emperor-level pressure. If you cannot endure it, speak immediately!" Gold Crocodile warned.
The moment it descended, Qian Yang felt a sharp pain in his chest. His spirit power nearly froze under the suppression.
Yet at that instant—
A burning sensation erupted from his left hand.
The God-Slaying Spear stirred violently, as if unwilling to submit. A faint dark-red glow leaked from his palm, radiating defiance and killing intent.
"Get back!"
Qian Yang clenched his fist tightly, forcibly suppressing it. The red glow vanished instantly.
This time, he chose to rely solely on himself.
Under the overwhelming pressure, his bones creaked, his muscles tensed, and his spirit power circulated at its absolute limit.
Yet—he did not fall.
Qian Daoliu and Gold Crocodile Douluo watched silently, their eyes filled with undisguised interest.
They both understood clearly—this was not merely resistance.
This was tempering.