Inside the academy auditorium, the Third Generation students had once again gathered—just as they had on their first day of enrollment.

The only difference? The figure on the podium had shifted from the petite Miriam to Xiao Chengcheng.

“Ahem—” Xiao Chengcheng tried hard to maintain a serious expression. “Thank you all for taking time from your busy schedules to attend the Third Generation’s first grade assembly.”

Dead silence from below.

“I trust you’ve all heard from your instructors about the upcoming school festival. There are a few key points I’d like to stress.”

“First, this festival is co-hosted by our Third Generation Academy and the Resident Academy—which means—”

Xiao Chengcheng’s voice suddenly surged with passion: “This is a contest between us and the residents!”

Still, not a sound.

Xiao Chengcheng faltered slightly but held onto his fiery posture.

“The festival will run as a competition: three-person teams in a battle royale format. In short—a real, no-holds-barred combat trial!”

“Though we of the Third Generation haven’t been here long, our effort rivals theirs! Our potential rivals theirs! This battle will showcase our spirit, our pride! Let the residents see just how strong we truly are!”

“Everyone—do you have confidence?!”

Below the stage.

Silence.

Well… not *total* silence. Bai Ming let out a barely suppressed snicker.

Xiao Chengcheng’s face finally crumpled. “Man, come on, guys! Throw me a bone! How am I supposed to work like this?”

The crowd exchanged uneasy glances before a sparse, hesitant applause trickled out.

Xiao Chengcheng buried his face in his hands, utterly despondent.

“We’re doomed. The match is basically over before it even starts.”

Ming Yi broke into a cold sweat. The mood was grim. None of the Third Generation seemed fired up—and no one knew the real strength gap. It felt like facing five Diamond-tier players with only four noobs besides himself. Anyone would fold.

After failing utterly to stir the crowd, Xiao Chengcheng gave up. With a rushed “Good luck, everyone,” he adjourned the meeting.

Before he could step down, Bai Ming sauntered over with a mocking smirk.

“Oh dear~ Our mighty President Xiao poured his soul onstage, yet the audience sat like statues? A clear slap to your dignity! If I were you, I’d never stand for it.”

Xiao Chengcheng shot back coolly, “That’s the difference between a mature man—with grace and patience—and a brat who throws tantrums and cries for mommy at the first hiccup.”

Honestly? Xiao Chengcheng’s tongue was razor-sharp. Bai Ming flushed purple, teeth clenched like he wanted to bite him.

“Glaring at me won’t knock me up, you know?” Xiao Chengcheng rolled his eyes. “If you’ve got guts, prove it at the festival—climb the ranks, take down resident teams. *That’s* what counts.”

“Hmph. This young master has mastered a formidable art and assembled an invincible trio. A trivial match like this? I’ll win it blindfolded.” Bai Ming smirked smugly.

Ming Yi blinked in surprise. So the kid had quietly secured his team already.

Xiao Chengcheng picked his nose. “Big talk’s free. Win first, then brag.”

“We’ll see!” Bai Ming strutted off, chin high.

Ming Yi mused: Barring surprises, his team would be the student council trio—himself, Xiao Chengcheng, and Chu Tong.

Three months of daily drills and sparring had transformed them all from helpless rookies. Xiao Chengcheng and Bai Ming now solidly ranked Grade D Shatterborn. Wang Jie and Chu Tong trailed closely behind, nearly at D-grade too. The rest weren’t weak—just not monstrous enough to finish a full year’s curriculum in three months.

As for Ming Yi? Without a defined Corruption Artifact, his combat power was unquantifiable. He honestly didn’t know his own level.

In private spars with Xiao Chengcheng, he usually won—but only through bizarre, underhanded tricks exploiting his blood’s fluid nature. Xiao Chengcheng would always curse him out for being sneaky and low.

Truth was, Xiao Chengcheng’s Hundredfold Forged Staff was brutally direct—Ming Yi’s elusive, unpredictable style happened to counter it. In fair fights, his blood felt… underwhelming for both offense and defense.

He needed a proper opponent. Someone to clarify his true strength.

Chu Tong was the first who came to mind.

So one evening over dinner, he proposed extra sparring for the festival.

“Sparring prep for the school festival… sounds reasonable,” Chu Tong mused, then tilted her head. “But is your Corruption Artifact really stable?”

“Eh… I’ll do my best,” Ming Yi admitted awkwardly. Not knowing its name, he didn’t even know how to address it.

Chu Tong nodded after a pause. “Alright. Training room later.”

——

——

When Ming Yi arrived, Chu Tong was already waiting. Evening light faded; the training room stood empty save for them—and Xiao Chengcheng, who’d shamelessly tagged along to watch.

“Chu Tong, listen,” Xiao Chengcheng whispered loudly, fanning flames, “this guy’s *tricky*. Uses every dirty trick imaginable. Don’t hold back! Aim for the face, not the butt—beat him to a pulp!”

Watching Chu Tong’s puzzled look, Ming Yi felt a vein throb on his forehead. *Tonight,* he vowed silently, *I’m writing names on his underwear and tossing every pair into the girls’ dorm.*

No more words. They stepped to the center of the training floor.

“Clear warning,” Chu Tong narrowed her eyes. “I won’t hold back. Since you asked me to spar, be ready to get hit.”

“I’m not like Xiao Chengcheng—brute force with zero finesse. When I get serious? I’m *strong*.”

Ming Yi offered a wry smile and nodded.

“Since you’re prepared—”

Chu Tong’s gaze sharpened in an instant.

“—then let’s have a good fight!”