Night had long since blanketed Nuoding Academy, wrapping the quiet campus in a hush that settled deep into every dormitory and corridor. Most students were asleep by now—or trying to be.
Inside a modest dorm room, Xiao Wu lay beneath a thin quilt, her arms loosely wrapped around Qian Yu's. The room was dim, the kind of still darkness that lulled even restless minds toward slumber.
But that silence didn't last.
A sudden uproar broke across the school grounds like thunder on a still lake. Voices, footsteps, something distant but urgent—and growing closer.
Xiao Wu's eyes flew open. She pushed off the covers and sat up, her long ears twitching faintly as she scowled in the dark.
"Why's it so noisy out there all of a sudden?" she groaned, rubbing her temple.
Qian Yu didn't answer right away. He was already focused, his spiritual awareness sweeping outward like an unseen tide. In a breath, he sensed them—flaring soul signatures, heavy and oppressive. Soul Kings. And many Soul Masters besides.
He stood and moved to the window. The night outside wasn't dark anymore. It burned with firelight, flickering wildly against a sea of armored figures.
"There are Soul Kings outside," Qian Yu said calmly, his voice low but sharp. "And a lot of Soul Sects too."
Xiao Wu slid out of bed beside him, her expression tightening. "What are they doing here? Why would Soul Kings show up at our academy?"
Qian Yu glanced back at her, his gaze clear. "Let's go see for ourselves."
They weren't the only ones stirred by the commotion. Other work-study students emerged sleepily from their quarters, drawn toward the noise and flames. As they reached the front gates, a pair of teachers came rushing toward them—one of them nearly colliding with Wang Sheng.
The teacher lit up upon recognizing the boy. "Wang Sheng! Thank the stars—you're here! Where's Qian Yu?"
"He was still asleep last I checked," Wang Sheng said with a shrug, though even he didn't sound convinced by his own words. "He should be here any second."
Right on cue, Qian Yu stepped out from the shadows with Xiao Wu at his side. Together, they moved through the crowd and toward the gate, where the night had turned hostile.
There, standing tall beneath the roaring flames, was a man cloaked in arrogance and hatred—Xiao Zhantian, flanked by rows of soldiers bearing torches like a declaration of war.
"Where is Qian Yu?!" the man bellowed into the darkness. "Afraid to show himself now, is he? The boy was bold enough to lay a hand on my son—but too cowardly to face me?!"
The crowd flinched at the fury in his voice. No one stepped forward.
Xiao Zhantian sneered, raising a hand heavy with soul power. "Fine. If you won't give him to me, then you'll all pay the price!"
Without warning, the air shifted. A violent suction pulled forward a student from the front of the crowd, straight into Xiao Zhantian's grip. The boy barely had time to cry out.
Then—crack.
A sickening snap echoed across the courtyard, followed by a dull explosion of blood. The student collapsed into mist and silence.
Screams tore through the crowd. These were children—barely old enough to wield a staff, let alone witness death. The horror broke something in them. Chaos followed. Students tried to run, but the soldiers closed ranks, trapping them like animals in a pen.
"You think I'm bluffing?" Xiao Zhantian shouted. "Hand over Qian Yu, or none of you are leaving here alive!"
One of the teachers finally snapped. He stepped forward, eyes blazing with defiance. "You think being the city lord gives you the right to slaughter innocents? I swear this will be reported—our nation will not let this stand!"
Xiao Zhantian tilted his head, amused. "Is that so? Well then… best of luck making that report. You'll need to live long enough to deliver it."
A blur of motion—one of his Soul King enforcers dashed forward like a phantom. A flash of steel, a whisper of wind—and the teacher collapsed, eyes wide, throat sliced clean through.
Silence reigned once more.
"Anyone else feel brave?" Xiao Zhantian asked coldly.
One by one, people stepped back. No one answered.
Xiao Zhantian's gaze swept across the terrified faces before him. "I didn't claw my way to power by asking politely," he growled. "You think appealing to 'authorities' will save you? Here in Nuoding City, I am the law."
"Now bring me Qian Yu. Or watch this academy burn."
But before anyone could answer, Qian Yu and Xiao Wu arrived.
They stood at the edge of the chaos, surveying the blood-stained courtyard. Students cowered. Teachers trembled. Smoke curled through the air like fingers of dread.
Suddenly, Xiao Zhantian yanked another person from the crowd—another student, a familiar face from Qian Yu's own dormitory.
"Xiao Wu! Help!" the boy cried out, flailing helplessly in the man's grip.
And then—
"There! That's them!"
Xiao Chenyu, Xiao Zhantian's son, pointed with vindictive glee. "Dad, that's Qian Yu! He's the leader of the work-studies!"
At last, Qian Yu stepped forward.
Slow, deliberate steps carried him across the broken courtyard. He moved like a phantom cutting through fog—untouched by the tension, unafraid of the flames.
He stopped a few paces from Xiao Zhantian and looked up calmly.
"I hear you were looking for me?"
Xiao Zhantian narrowed his eyes. "You're Qian Yu?"
"That's right."
"You're the one who hurt my son?"
"I am," Qian Yu said, his voice smooth as polished steel. "And I believe I made myself clear—if you came seeking revenge, I wouldn't stop at defending myself. I'd erase the Xiao family from existence."
Gasps swept the crowd like wind through dry leaves.
"You arrogant brat!" Xiao Zhantian roared. "You dare threaten my family?! Then die for your insolence!"
He lunged. The air exploded around him as his soul power ignited like a tempest.
"Battle Wolf—manifest!"
A fierce green glow burst forth, surrounding him. Five soul rings spun into existence—white, yellow, yellow, purple, purple—radiant and deadly. A level 57 Soul King, fully unleashed.
His fists clenched, muscles coiled, energy boiling around him like a storm unchained.
"Let's see if you can pay the price for your pride!"
With a roar, he drove a massive, glowing fist toward Qian Yu, the ground beneath his feet splintering from the force of the strike.
BOOM.
Soul energy detonated outward like a tidal wave. Dust and debris surged skyward. When it finally began to settle, a crater yawned beneath Xiao Zhantian's feet.
"Is… is he dead?"
"There's no way a six-year-old survived that…"
"He has to be. No one could survive that."
But as the dust cleared, a figure emerged.
Qian Yu stood at the center of the crater, untouched. His white robes fluttered in the breeze, not a speck of dust on them. His expression was unreadable—calm, steady, unshaken.
He raised his eyes to meet Xiao Zhantian's.
"A Soul King?" he said quietly, almost to himself. "I don't even bother to blink at that."
And in that moment, the night held its breath.
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