101 The Trial

Under the watchful gaze of hundreds of eyes, the twelve newcomers, including Zhong Yun, stood up and walked to the center of the arena. Just like that morning, they lined up in a row, each standing tall and proud, showing no sign of stage fright.

The bald instructor slowly strode past them. “I know,” he began, “you are all the chosen ones, prodigies in everyone’s eyes, the focus of attention since childhood, surrounded by countless auras of glory. You are proud.”

His tone suddenly shifted to a severe one. “But let me tell you, here, no one is inferior to you—in fact, some are even stronger. So, put away your pride. Here, you are just beginners who know nothing. Only by humbly learning can you make progress.”

Turning around, his eyes swept coldly over the twelve faces. “I know some of you are unwilling to accept this. You are geniuses, and whatever you learn, you grasp quickly.”

A cold sneer curled on his lips. “Now, I will test you. Only those who pass will qualify to become official trainees at the base. Those who fail will be immediately dismissed.”

The senior trainees sitting below remained silent—they knew the real challenge was coming. They had all been through this. But this year, the examiner was the infamous “BT” bald instructor, which made them pity the new students greatly. Falling under BT’s scrutiny meant enduring severe hardship.

The bald instructor stopped at the center of the line. Suddenly, an icy chill burst from him, causing all twelve to shudder violently.

Zhong Yun felt a chill run through him—an ice-based ability? His internal energy instantly circulated, driving the cold away.

The bald instructor’s gaze flickered sharply, locking onto Zhong Yun.

Zhong Yun’s heart sank. He felt as if a freezing wind from the Arctic, locked in ice for millennia, enveloped him. The boundless cold seemed to freeze his blood instantly.

Damn it, does this bald guy want to kill us? Zhong Yun cursed inwardly, abandoning any thought of conserving strength. He didn’t want to be wiped out by this instructor’s “accident,” with nowhere to complain afterward. He mobilized all his internal energy, battling the invading cold.

The bald instructor’s eyes grew even more intense. Though he was targeting twelve people simultaneously, as an eighth-level expert, his control over his powers was absolute. He could tailor the intensity of the cold to each person’s strength, pushing them precisely to their limits.

His goal was to force their potential to the surface. Among the twelve, only half had practiced physical combat skills; the rest had yet to awaken. He created a life-or-death illusion because only at the brink of survival could their abilities awaken on their own.

This was the same method the ninth uncle of Chen Wen used to awaken Tian Hai.

Based on his prior assessment, Fei Liming—the third son of the Fei family and one of the top two alongside the fourth son of the Chen family—was the strongest among them. After a brief test, he sensed Fei Liming had broken through to the fourth level. For someone his age, this was truly remarkable.

But unexpectedly, the seemingly ordinary boy was actually a hidden tiger—Zhong Yun instantly expelled the invading cold energy from his body, shocking the instructor. With his sensing abilities, he couldn’t even detect the depth of this boy’s power. Truly, appearances could be deceiving.

This piqued the instructor’s great interest. His ice ability was notoriously tricky—stronger opponents often found it a headache. Yet this boy had easily dispelled it.

He increased the cold gradually against Zhong Yun, but it was like water off a duck’s back. Surprised, his interest deepened, and a grim smile twisted his lips.

The senior trainees watching felt a chill; those familiar with “BT” knew that whenever he wore this smile, it meant someone was about to face disaster. They silently mourned for the unlucky person, though also relieved that BT’s focus on one individual meant others might be ignored.

Yang Siqing, watching from the side, fixed his gaze on Zhong Yun. Though his face remained calm, his heart was a storm. Zhong Yun had just broken through—to the fifth level of physical combat at only seventeen, earlier than Yang himself, who had reached the fifth level just two days before his eighteenth birthday.

Even more terrifying was that when they first met, Zhong Yun was only at the third level—not even half a year ago.

Could it be that, like Qi’er, Zhong Yun was a gift from heaven to Davo?

Yang Siqing couldn’t help but look forward to how far this boy would grow.

“Fifth level?” The bald instructor could hardly believe his own assessment. He had unleashed his full strength and finally sensed the boy’s true nature. The result was astonishing.

To be only in his teens and already at the fifth level—what kind of monster was this? If Zhong Yun hadn’t been standing right in front of him, and if he hadn’t personally detected it, he would never have believed it.

According to research by the Physical Combat Association and historical examples, it was concluded that no one could break through to the fifth level before eighteen due to bodily limitations. Decades ago, a prodigy had broken this rule, but he was just days shy of eighteen.

Zhong Yun’s records showed he was born in April of New Era year 20, and now it was February of year 37—meaning the boy hadn’t even reached seventeen.

The bald instructor’s heart tightened. After more than a decade as a trainer, having taught countless outstanding youths, he had never encountered such an unprecedented, possibly the greatest genius in history. His blood seemed ready to ignite with excitement. No instructor could resist the temptation to mold the strongest student—it was every trainer’s deepest wish.

One by one, the others around Zhong Yun collapsed, leaving only him and Fei Liming struggling to hold on. Fei Liming’s face had turned pale as frost, his body staggering, on the verge of collapse.

Zhong Yun’s entire body shimmered with purple light, growing brighter and higher, forming a protective purple dome.

The observing instructors sensed something amiss. Though the bald instructor was sometimes reckless, he was never careless. Why would he strike so hard against these newcomers today?

Seeing the purple dome in front of Zhong Yun, which blocked the faint white mist, their eyes nearly popped out in shock. Such a powerful ability—how could it appear in a child?

When Fei Liming finally succumbed and fell, someone could no longer watch silently and said, “Enough, stop now.”