Boom! Boom! Boom!!!

In that instant, the space beneath Hill shattered like brittle glass, and the ground sagged several meters like a caving cliff.

Stones across the field showed spiderweb cracks, not deep, but spread like frost on slate.

About half a minute later, that suffocating pressure ebbed like a retreating storm. Hill dropped from the air, and the broken space drank the alchemy array’s power to stitch itself whole.

When all of us students—me and Xinuo included—looked at the megaliths, our breath hitched like birds caught in a net.

"...So strong!"

I said it from the gut, heat flaring like a spark in dry grass. The others chimed in like a ringing bell: "Hill’s crazy strong," "He must be Sacred Realm-tier," "Yeah, that was wild."

Almost every boulder wore deep claw-marks of cracks, save a few stubborn slabs. One even split clean, like firewood under an ax.

"Hmm, let me see..."

Stellar Rosa had braced herself, so her surprise was a quiet ripple, not a wave.

Muttering, she pushed up her glasses, her gaze gliding over the stones like a measuring blade.

After a short while, she nodded with a scholar’s calm.

"The weakest strike was SSS-tier mid-stage. The strongest was Sacred Realm entry-stage peak. The rest look like SSS-tier high-stage."

Her eyes roamed the boulders like a surveyor’s sun.

"Because the attacks spread too wide, we can’t pin Hill’s exact tier. I’d say Sacred Realm high-stage or Holy Peak."

She turned to Hill, shock flashing like lightning. Then she saw the two small, sharp horns on his head, and her mood settled like dust.

"So Hill’s Dragon Kin. No wonder he’s that powerful."

She gave a thoughtful nod and let her pen dance across the board like a swift swallow.

After that, Hill’s performance matched his power. Every test shone like polished steel. His final mark was ‘Excellent,’ and he outshone Di Yue’er by a clear span.

"Alright—only you’re left, Amamiya. Come on up! I hear your class is Sword Wielder. I’m excited."

Once Hill returned to my side, Stellar Rosa smiled at me like sunrise breaking cloud.

"Okay."

After Hill’s display, my confidence flickered like a candle in wind, but I still flowed my bracelet back into the Shattered Light Sword and walked to center field.

"Then let’s begin!"

Stellar Rosa stepped aside, her voice ringing like a brass chime.

"Mm!"

I drew a deep breath. My chest steadied like a still pond, then I began condensing Sword Aura.

For this test, I wouldn’t use sword arts. I’d use pure Sword Aura. Some arts are woven from aura, but arts sit on the second rung of swordcraft. For raw impact, they can’t match undiluted aura.

On the Eastern Moon Continent, I rarely used Sword Aura. Most fights, I leaned on sword arts—handy, varied, and familiar. Besides, I hadn’t learned aura-type skills.

I’d never once tried skills born purely from Sword Aura. Let’s call such a thing a “Sword Aura Art.”

Just now, a thought clicked, a dim dawn of insight. It’s still misty, but if I don’t try, how will I know?

So, this time, I’d attempt a Sword Aura Art.

"I hope it works."

Anxious heat prickled like summer rain. I fixed my gaze on one of the few intact boulders, ready to strike.

Seconds slid by. The Shattered Light Sword sat wrapped in hardened Sword Aura, blazing with golden light, and the force was strong enough to crack the ground like ice.

When the aura swelled to the edge of my control, I stabbed the Shattered Light Sword into the earth. Then—

"Explosive: Absolute Sword Formation!"

A name flashed through my mind like a comet, and I blurted it without thinking.

At my word, the aura around the Shattered Light Sword surged into the earth, ripping forward like a tearing fault toward the boulder ahead.

Soon, the ground split in glowing seams. Golden light spilled out—Sword Aura shining like molten sun.

A circle of aura rose and ringed the boulder, and within it swam patterns and sigils like an ancient star chart.

"Attack!"

I leveled the Shattered Light Sword at the boulder. Blades woven from Sword Aura formed, taking the boulder as their center, arrayed in a ring.

Hummm!

With a clear sword-cry, the ring of blades shot in at a speed too fast for the eye, piercing the boulder like rain.

"Detonate."

Half a heartbeat later, I let the word fall like a pebble into a still well—

Boom!!!

Every blade buried in the boulder erupted with brutal force and blinding gold.

They blew together, flinging dust skyward and a thunderclap across the yard.

"Cough, cough..."

"What an insane blast—cough!"

"Ugh, dust everywhere."

Students hacked through the haze, caught by the dust storm like swimmers in surf.

After a moment, the roar faded, and the dust thinned like fog at dawn.

The boulder had become a mound of gravel, a shattered hill of gray.

"So this is a Sword Wielder... incredible."

Stellar Rosa murmured, a hint of awe rippling like wind over wheat. And I—the one who cast it—couldn’t help being shocked too.

With her reaction, the students needed no cue. Faces lit like lanterns as they stared at me, praise spilling over: "So strong," "Amamiya’s amazing," "No wonder Sword Wielder is called the strongest class."

"Amamiya, I look forward to our next match."

Yuyi Mengliu slipped to a stop in front of me, a small smile like moonlight.

"Mm. I doubt it’ll be long." I smiled back, steady as a drawn bow.

"Anyway... everyone, quiet down first!"

Stellar Rosa came to herself, pushed her glasses, and raised her voice like a bell.

These students really are heiresses through and through. Stellar Rosa spoke, and they fell silent at once, decorum settling like silk.

"Good. As for that technique Amamiya just used—"

She nodded, satisfied, and continued, words crisp as chalk: "It’s equal to a Sacred Realm mid-stage expert’s full-force strike. In other words, mid-stage peak."

"Ehh!!!!"

I had braced myself, but hearing it reach Sacred Realm mid-stage peak still made me yelp like a startled cat.

Last night, my Myriad Swords Unleashed against Yuyi Mengliu was, at best, SSS-tier peak.

But now, in this moment—

After a single insight, my strength surged like a river after rain. And there’s this faint, uncanny feeling—Sword Intent is close to forming.

It’s a step away, near as breath, yet far as the horizon.

It feels like I lack one crucial spark—a missing stroke to light the flame. Probably.