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Each grade had ten dueling arenas for the assessnt, arranged in a triangle surrounding the central viewing stands. This ant only twenty people could compete in an elimination round at a ti.

Fortunately, Feng Hao’s number was near the back of the list, while Xi Yueyao’s was definitely near the front, so they both ended up fighting in the first group.

According to the pairings, Feng Hao’s opponent was contestant number 10, so their fight was naturally on arena ten.

"Damn it, where’s my opponent?" Feng Hao stood impatiently on arena ten. Surrounded by a crowd of students, he shook his leg out of boredom and humd a folk song from his hotown. "Number 10? Contestant number 10, get up here! Don’t waste my ti!"

Among the students watching or preparing for their own matches, many recognized Feng Hao. After all, following the simulator incident, the title of "Strongest Auditing Student in History" had already begun to spread.

Even though they all knew Feng Hao could go toe-to-toe with Xiyue Frost, many didn’t quite believe it. They found it hard to accept that an auditing student could be more outstanding than them!

Because of this, a sizable crowd of students had gathered below arena ten. So were there to verify Feng Hao’s strength, but the vast majority were hoping to see him make a fool of himself.

Perhaps Feng Hao’s clamoring had an effect, because a mont later, a dashing and suave young man leaped onto the dueling arena.

As the suave young man appeared, the crowd below erupted in cheers and screams. A few infatuated girls were even shouting at the top of their lungs:

"Go, Song Shu! Go, Song Shu!"

"Class President, hurry up and destroy that auditing student! Show him the power of an official student!"

"Song Shu, you’re so handso! You’re the best!"

"Go, Class President! Let everyone know how strong our Class Nine is!"

"That’s right! Class Nine is the strongest!"

...

Hearing the shouts from below, Feng Hao’s interest was piqued. "You’re the Class President of Class Nine?"

Song Shu had a cold and arrogant expression. With an air of imnse pride, he drew his sword and flicked his sleeve, completely dismissing Feng Hao. "So you’re the auditing student, Feng Hao? I heard you can fight the third-year, Xiyue Frost. I wonder if that’s true or not."

Feng Hao pursed his lips. "If you think it’s true, it’s true. If you think it’s false, it’s false."

"That’s very logical. A pity I think it’s false." Song Shu stood tall and proud, striking the pose of a master. "You should just concede. An auditing student isn’t worthy of fighting ."

"Heh, you’re not much of a student, kid, but you’ve certainly got the posturing down," Feng Hao said with a stifled laugh.

Song Shu was clearly taken aback, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you an?"

"Nothing." Feng Hao grinned, dual-wielding the Dark Moon Daggers in his hands, and charged straight forward.

"You’re courting death!" Seeing Feng Hao’s sudden attack, Song Shu couldn’t help but sneer. He brandished his longsword and t the charge, his handso and imposing posture drawing countless screams from the crowd below.

Expectations and reality are often miles apart. Song Shu had thought he could easily strike Feng Hao by taking advantage of his weapon’s longer reach.

Unfortunately, just as the sword’s edge was about to hit Feng Hao, his speed suddenly exploded. He effortlessly dodged with a half-turn of his body, and the dagger in his reverse-gripped left hand flicked upward, precisely slicing across the wrist of Song Shu’s sword hand.

"Off you go, little buddy!" Feng Hao said with a playful smile.

Song Shu, who had just been the picture of dashing elegance, instantly turned deathly pale. The energy of the Five-Layered Dark Force surged and raged within his body, and his Qi Blood hit rock bottom in an instant.

Blood stread from his wrist. He lost his grip on his longsword, and with a miserable cry, he collapsed to the ground.

"Contestant 998 wins. Both parties, please exit the arena promptly." The nearby referee-instructor announced the result directly, then entered the win/loss information into the match-sorting device.

Feng Hao ignored the dumbfounded crowd below, humming a little tune as he leisurely left the arena.

Only Song Shu remained on the dueling arena, his face a mask of pain and bewildernt. He clutched his wrist, clearly not having processed what had just happened.

"Contestant number 10, please exit the arena imdiately!" the referee-instructor’s stern voice rang out again.

Only then did Song Shu co to his senses. He stumbled off the dueling arena, ducked his head, and pushed through the crowd to flee. As the only expert from Class Nine with any hope of fighting for first place, how could he possibly show his face at the venue after being eliminated in the very first round?

As Song Shu left, the spectating students below finally reacted. Aside from the mbers of Class Nine, who were sighing in dismay, all the other students wore expressions of utter disbelief:

"Impossible! My eyes must be playing tricks on . Nothing happened just now!"

"Holy crap, it was over before I even knew what was going on!"

"I heard that auditing student uses Dark Force, but even so, there’s no way he could beat Song Shu with a single strike, right?"

"Song Shu is level sixteen and has a Physique aptitude. His Qi Blood should be at least 12,000, shouldn’t it?"

"Over 10,000 damage in one strike? Are you kidding ? And he’s a goddamn auditing student!"

"Looks like the rumors are true. That guy might have actually fought Xiyue Frost."

...

On the high platform, most of the big shots were watching the third-year matches. After all, the first and second-year fights really didn’t have much technical skill to speak of.

However, there were a few big shots paying attention to the first-year situation, such as the elderly Old City Lord. He had witnessed almost the entire fight between Feng Hao and Song Shu, even though the whole battle lasted only a few seconds.

"What a formidable little fellow. It seems my Rongcheng is about to produce another young genius!" The Old City Lord’s voice was a bit faint and weak.

Hearing this, Zhao Hao subconsciously turned his head to look, asking in confusion, "Old City Lord, which student are you talking about?"

The Old City Lord looked back toward arena ten, only to find that the two youngsters were already gone. He couldn’t help but chuckle. "There was a pretty good kid on arena ten just now. Looks like he’s already left."

"Oh, there are indeed a few promising prospects this year." Zhao Hao nodded with a faint smile, a few figures flashing through his mind.

"Very good! Very good!" the Old City Lord said twice. His gaze was suddenly drawn to arena one, and he remarked with an appreciative smile, "Hm? Isn’t that the Xiyue Family’s second girl? Yes, she has her aunt’s bearing from back in the day!"

Zhao Hao gave a stifled laugh. "I heard West Moon Ridge has returned after finding her roots. Has the Old City Lord heard about this?"

"I know... I know. That girl was just chatting with yesterday."

"Speaking of which, she and I were students in the sa year. Back then, she really overshadowed so much I could barely breathe. It’s just a pity that she has already found her bloodline inheritance, while I can only stay here and live out my retirent." Zhao Hao’s eyes grew distant with reminiscence as he sighed wistfully.

Hearing this, a hint of sadness also surfaced in the Old City Lord’s eyes. "Sigh... It’s the sa for . I can only live out my retirent here."

"Did the Old City Lord also fail back then?" Zhao Hao asked in surprise.

"Not exactly. It was for so other reasons." The Old City Lord gave a aningful smile. "My old friends from back then... one left, then another, and then another..."

Zhao Hao was completely befuddled by this but didn’t press the matter further. His gaze swept over the students below as he sighed, "I wonder how many of these children will be able to awaken their bloodlines?"

"No one can say for sure when it cos to bloodlines. We of the Human Race in the Ancient Cang Realm are a convergence of bloodlines from the Ten Thousand Realms. There will always be so favored children of heaven who can find the source of their bloodline." The Old City Lord gazed at the azure sky, his eyes deep and sorrowful.

...

After winning and advancing, Feng Hao ran straight over to arena one to cheer on Xi Yueyao.

She was, after all, the beautiful girl warrior he had trained himself. Her combat skills and strength completely crushed her opponent; she just wasn’t as clean and decisive as he was.

Returning victorious, Xi Yueyao swaggered over. Just as Feng Hao had expected, even though she had only won a single match, the girl’s ego was already starting to inflate to no end.

"WAHAHA, this young lady really is amazing!" Xi Yueyao said, gloating to herself.

Feng Hao shook his head helplessly, taking her small hand. "Alright, stop gloating. Let’s go cheer on Fatty and the others."

"Okay." Xi Yueyao nodded obediently. She skipped and bounced along while holding Feng Hao’s hand, not forgetting to mutter, "If those guys lose, just watch how I’ll deal with them!"

"Hey now, no matter what, they’re my little brothers. It’s not your place to teach them a lesson," Feng Hao said, displeased.

Xi Yueyao jutted out her chin proudly. "Hmph! I’m also their Class President!"

"Er... alright, you win." Feng Hao was speechless.

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