Late night on the rooftop.
The moon hung like a cold, silver coin over Victoria City. Alex Silvester rested for half an hour, his heart rhythm slowly stabilizing as the "Mud" continued to purge from his system. He didn't stop. The Extreme Path demanded obsession. He stood up, his joints popping like dry wood, and threw a series of measured, brutal strikes into the dark.
[ Ding! ]
[ Punch Efficiency: 35% ]
[ Gained 1 Martial Dao Value ]
[ Current Realm: Mud Embryo Realm · Rank 20! ]
As the final notification flashed, Alex collapsed. His muscles felt like they had been replaced by molten lead. The earthy yellow glow on his skin was thicker now—a dull, stony sheen that looked less like light and more like polished armor.
"That's enough," he rasped, his voice a dry whisper. "Balance... rest is just as much a part of the forge as the flame."
He dragged his exhausted frame back to the dormitory. He moved like a shadow, slipping into his bunk without waking the others. Sleep didn't come gradually; it claimed him the moment his head hit the pillow, his body immediately beginning the intensive process of repairing the micro-tears in his Rank 20 fibers.
The Next Day — Early Morning.
"Hey! Alex, get up! Move it!"
Alex felt his bed frame rattling. He tried to sit up, but a groan escaped his lips. His arms were so sore they felt pinned to the mattress by gravity itself. This body is still too narrow a vessel for this power, he lamented inwardly.
He opened his eyes to see the broad, anxious face of Wang Hou leaning over him. The dormitory was strangely quiet. The sun was already streaming through the high, narrow windows.
"The others already left for the Theory Building," Wang Hou whispered, glancing toward the door. "They didn't want to wake you. I think they were hoping you'd sleep through the first day and get a strike on your record. I doubled back to grab you. Hurry!"
Alex felt a surge of genuine gratitude. In a university built on treading over the weak, Wang Hou's simple kindness was a rare treasure. "Thank you, Wang Hou. I'm up."
As Alex splashed cold water on his face, Wang Hou reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, ceramic vial filled with a pungent, green paste.
"What's this?" Alex asked, drying his face.
"Don't worry, it's not the expensive stuff," Wang Hou laughed, though he looked a bit embarrassed. "Just some basic Evergreen Alchemical Ointment. It's for bruises and muscle strains." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping. "I saw you sneak out to the rooftop last night, Alex. To be honest... your talent might be E-rank, but your drive? That's S-rank. I couldn't just let you walk to class limping."
Alex took the vial. "Thank you for the Mending Essence, Wang Hou."
"The what? Essence?" Wang Hou blinked, confused. "Whatever. Just rub it in."
The ointment worked wonders. As the cooling sensation seeped into his shoulders, Alex felt the soreness recede, replaced by the heavy, solid strength of his Rank 20 foundation. He watched the other students in the hallway as they walked toward the Class Theory Building. They looked light—floaty. They relied on mana to move, whereas Alex felt every pound of his own density. He felt like a boulder walking among autumn leaves.
The Theory Building — Freshman Department.
The crowd was a sea of shimmering silk robes and high-tech combat suits. As Alex and Wang Hou squeezed through the entrance, the atmosphere curdled.
"Is that him? The pity admit?"
"He actually showed up? If I were an E-rank failure, I'd have hopped a transport sub home by dawn."
"Look at him. He doesn't even have a mana signature. He's just... a person. How embarrassing."
The whispers were like gnats, irritating but weightless. Alex kept his gaze forward, but Wang Hou's face was turning a dangerous shade of purple.
"A bunch of vultures," Wang Hou snapped, his voice carrying over the crowd. "Talking behind backs is easy. Surpassing him won't be!"
At the entrance to the main lecture hall, the tension peaked. A group of students blocked the path, their eyes full of mocking amusement. Alex stepped forward, his voice calm, flat, and chillingly steady.
"If anyone is unconvinced by my presence here," Alex said, his eyes scanning the crowd, "the Combat Hall is open. We can exchange moves there."
The crowd went silent. An E-rank challenging the student body? It was suicidal. But before anyone could respond, the crowd parted like the Red Sea.
James White arrived.
He didn't just walk; he radiated. Blue sparks danced across the hem of his premium academy robes. The SS-Rank Thunder Magic Prodigy was the sun, and everyone else was a mere satellite.
"Wow! James is already touching the edge of the Fourth Realm," someone gasped.
James basked in the awe. "To be precise," he said, his voice amplified by a hint of mana, "I've touched the bottleneck. I'll break through to the Fourth Realm within the month. While some people are playing in the mud, others are reaching for the clouds."
His gaze landed on Alex, cold and predatory. He walked up until he was inches from Alex's face. "You want to exchange moves, fossil? I'll play with you."
The surrounding students broke into raucous laughter.
"James, don't! You'll kill him if you sneeze too hard!"
"He isn't even a true Warrior yet! It's like kicking a puppy!"
Wang Hou stepped between them, his hands shaking. "James, he... he was just joking. We're going to class."
James's eyes snapped to Wang Hou. A small arc of electricity hissed between his fingers. "Fatty, this doesn't involve you. Get lost. Or better yet, choose the right side. I'll give you five seconds to stand behind me and leave this trash in the dirt where he belongs."
The pressure was suffocating. Everyone watched Wang Hou. The choice was between a future Transcendent god and an outcast. Wang Hou's feet shifted, his face pale, but he didn't move toward James. He stayed at Alex's side.
Alex reached out and gripped Wang Hou's shoulder. His grip was like an iron vice—steady, grounding, and incredibly strong.
"Fine, James White," Alex said. His voice cut through the laughter like a cold wind. "I accept. But not today."
James smirked. "Oh? Need time to write your will?"
"One month," Alex said, his eyes burning with a dark, inner light. "At the first Monthly Professional Exam. We'll settle it in the arena. If I'm expelled, you win by default. But if I stay..."
"If you stay," James laughed, his eyes flashing with lightning, "I'll personally ensure your departure is permanent. One month, Alex. Enjoy your last thirty days of dignity."
As James led his entourage away, the crowd followed, leaving Alex and Wang Hou in the wake of the storm.
Wang Hou exhaled a breath he seemed to have been holding for a lifetime. "Alex... a month? He's a Fourth Realm Mage. We're Regular Class Nine. The resources alone—"
"Resources are for those who need them," Alex said, his fist clenching. Beneath his skin, the earthy yellow glow—the Fires of the Primordial Forge—pulsed. "I have a month to throw ten thousand punches. Let's go to class."