The combat arena fell silent. All eyes locked onto a figure in white armor wielding a giant scythe—and another in a black trench coat, masked, gripping a blue staff...

“Did I see that right? That girl actually blocked the Combat Instructor’s attack!” someone blurted after the brief hush.

“Seems you didn’t... Someone actually blocked his strike. When I fought him earlier, I couldn’t even hold on—I’m an earth-type Superpower user!”

Gasps of disbelief rippled across the field. But none were more stunned than the Combat Instructor himself.

“Not bad,” he muttered, swiftly putting distance between himself and Tran. Others didn’t know—he’d aimed to knock the girl down fast with his scythe. Yet in that instant, a staff intercepted his path. His blow hadn’t caused even a trace of tremor in her...

“Instructor, can we stop? You’re way too strong!” Tran rubbed his wrist—it ached from the clash.

“Yeah, sir, we surrender. We stand no chance against you like this...” Stella cradled the unconscious Yuanhe, her voice trembling.

The few standing students agreed. The Combat Instructor had even unleashed his Superpower—fighting on was suicide.

“On the battlefield... no, even in real life, surrender won’t save you. Train with that mindset, and you’ll regret it,” the Combat Instructor snapped, his gaze razor-sharp. “Push your limits now. Fall honorably, even in defeat!”

He vanished. Next second, two boys flew backward.

“Tran, get over here! Don’t get isolated!” Stella yelled, forgetting stealth. Tran had blocked the Instructor’s strike before—but he never went all out on students. Now? Who knew...

“Worry about yourself first...” His voice hissed beside Stella. She froze, eyes wide with despair as the scythe swept toward her. She knew she wouldn’t die—so why this terror?

“We already surrendered! Why attack such a cute girl?” Stella heard Tran’s voice—right beside the Instructor’s other side...

A blue-electric staff slammed into the white scythe.

The Combat Instructor stumbled back from the surprise blow. The remaining students’ jaws dropped. Stella stared, stunned.

“Tran, who even are you? Blocking the Combat Instructor’s attacks?” Stella asked.

“Just a transfer student... No time! This guy’s bullying girls openly! I can’t stand it—let’s go beat him up!” Tran’s electric staff swelled larger.

“Student, is your Superpower really A Rank?” The Combat Instructor couldn’t believe it. His own student—a monster who not only blocked but repelled him.

“Dunno! Taste my staff, old Tran-style! Monster!” Gray energy swirled around Tran, Destruction Force flickering. He swung the staff down—space itself seemed to crack.

The Combat Instructor dodged the strike zone. But the staff stretched longer! Its shockwave still hit him, sending him flying...

“You’re not my student,” he growled, rising slowly. He knew his class’s strength—and Yan Muyu’s power wasn’t this monstrous. “No holding back now. Everyone else, leave. I’ll ‘discuss’ things with this student alone.”

Confused but awestruck, the students retreated.

...

“Professor Ford, what are you watching?” Ada arrived at the viewing platform. She’d come to deliver White Emperor Kingdom news—but the Academy Chancellor beside Ford grinned wildly.

“You’re here, Ada. Little Tran’s no ordinary kid. He forced Combat to use S Rank Superpower. I’m dying to know his ability...” Ford said.

Ada was baffled. She knew Combat Instructor—literally named Combat. A hero from the 19th World War. Unbeatable among peers.

“That Andrew! Dumping trouble on me. This kid’s clearly special, yet he claimed A Rank Superpower... Next time I see him, I’ll wring his neck!” The glamorous Academy Chancellor fumed. (Andrew was the lab director who’d recommended Tran.) “Oh? Fighting already? Interesting. Soul Hunters claim this kid!”

Ada gasped. Soul Hunter trials were brutal—no one got recruited on a whim...

Curious, she peered at the distant arena—and froze in shock.

...

“S Rank! Underworld Death God!” Combat’s white armor turned pitch-black. Killing intent surged like a death god who’d slaughtered thousands. Just standing there crushed the air.

Watching students trembled; some wet themselves.

Combat finished activating his power, expecting Tran to flinch. Instead, Tran’s eyes sparkled. “Whoa! So cool! Instructor, selling that gear?” Combat facepalmed.

“Show your true strength, or you’ll die. I don’t hold back against non-students...” Tran sensed movement—swung his staff. Too late. He went flying.

“When did you—? You were just...” Tran stared where Combat had stood. The figure faded. “Afterimage!?”

“A side effect of my Superpower. Time to end this.” Combat attacked from behind.

Tran spun, staff crashing into him—catching him off guard.

“Good! Again!” Combat summoned countless scythe afterimages—each lethal. Block them all, or fall.

Tran’s staff swelled—two meters wide, ten meters long. He swung it wildly, shattering every afterimage.

“Cheater! That’s cheating!” Combat yelled. His range was pathetic next to that staff. A million attacks? One swing erased them all.

“Instructor, win by any means!” Tran’s voice echoed. He swung faster, forcing Combat into a desperate defense.