What else could be said? What else could be done? When the battle horn had already sounded, the only thing left was—

To fight.

This was what it meant to be part of GCD Divine Mechanism Academy. What it meant to be a student of Fire D Class.

Even beyond that—it was simply what a man should do. No hesitation. Only a burning, desperate need to crush the opponent. Even if it seemed impossible. So what? Wasn’t the will enough? Wasn’t this resolve enough?

Crush him now.

Utterly crush him.

Then shatter his values with his own defeat.

“War God Imprint—Form!”

A blinding light erupted—

“Black!?”

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

The War God Imprint Jiang Huoer summoned was pitch black!

Black? What attribute was that?

No one knew. No one had ever seen a black War God Imprint before. Something felt… off.

The boy plunged both hands into the dark mark and yanked backward.

What emerged was—

A shadowy Contract Weapon?

Its shape was utterly indistinct. No edges, no contours—just a formless void.

What even was that thing?

Impossible to tell.

Yet the boy declared without hesitation:

“This is my Divine Mechanic Weapon. Little Black.”

Jiang Huoer spoke plainly. Others might’ve found it strange to name their weapon so casually—but not Huoer.

“What? *Little Black*?” Zhao Meng’s face twisted in disbelief. “You’re mocking me!”

He was certain this was a joke. Just as he’d never seen a black War God Imprint, he’d never seen a Contract Weapon like this.

“Huh?” Huoer blinked, genuinely confused. “I’m not mocking you. This really is my Contract Weapon.” He patted Little Black—a fitting name for the weapon’s shape, like a black cannon barrel. Perfectly accurate.

Even Pang Dun and Zhu XiuRong were stunned. They’d never seen Huoer form his War God Seal or draw his weapon. They’d expected something ordinary—not this bizarre anomaly.

“Interesting.”

Zhuo Wentian murmured the words almost imperceptibly. The other Three Kings heard it. The aloof leader, who cared for nothing but cultivation, had taken notice.

This black anomaly had sparked Zhuo Wentian’s curiosity.

But only curiosity. Not yet Battle Will.

Only those who ignited Zhuo Wentian’s Battle Will truly commanded universal respect.

“So this shadowy lump is your arrogance’s foundation?” Zhao Meng’s expression was a mix of contempt and fury. Mostly mockery. Compared to his Skyshaking Hammer, this dark blob was pathetic.

“I’m not arrogant. *You’re* the one posturing,” Huoer shrugged.

“Tch. You really are—”

Zhao Meng lunged forward in a single explosive step.

“Enough talk! If we fight, let’s fight!”

His Skyshaking Hammer swelled violently, tripling in size.

“TAKE THIS!!!”

Zhao Meng’s ultimate Killing Move. No one expected him to unleash it immediately.

“He wants a quick end,” murmured the spectators. But the sharp-eyed knew better. This wasn’t just about speed—it was about utter humiliation.

One strike to show Jiang Huoer his true worth.

One strike to prove that against absolute power, he was nothing.

One strike to make this clueless fool feel worse than death!

Every ounce of Zhao Meng’s fury poured into that hammer—now swollen with power. Every desire to paint Huoer in shame.

“DIE!!!”

Two instructors watched tensely from the training ground’s edge. They’d intervene if Huoer couldn’t withstand it.

Pang Dun knew this move’s power. Zhu XiuRong knew too. They’d prepared for the aftermath—the outcome they dreaded.

BOOM—

No surprise. No shock. They’d expected this from the start.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Zhao Meng’s face radiated smug triumph—a face begging to be punched. Disgusting. Unbearable.

“HAHAHAHA! This is what arrogance earns you, Jiang Huoer! You brought this on yourself!”

Dust billowed from the hammer’s crushing impact. Nothing was visible beneath the smoke.

Who could survive a Second Stage Ninth Rank’s killing blow? A Second Stage Initial fighter wouldn’t even have time to flinch.

The crowd waited for the smoke to clear—to see the broken body beneath.

Huff…

Huff… huff… huff…

Breathing. Audible even in the dead silence.

*He’s still breathing?*

That alone was shocking.

The smoke parted. The silence shattered.

A figure stood clearly visible.

Upright.

!!!!!!

“THIS IS—! UNBELIEVABLE!!!” A Class A student shrieked, pointing. There stood Jiang Huoer in the clearing smoke—eyes wide open, fully conscious.

“That was Zhao Meng’s *first* Killing Move!!!” the student yelled again, voice cracking. Weak nerves? Or just needing to scream? Either way, the truth was undeniable.

“You—! This… this can’t be!” Zhao Meng froze, dumbfounded. His ultimate technique… hadn’t even made the boy flinch.