Probing patch after probing patch was pressed against the students' arms. Then a judge lightly tapped the arm and slowly channeled a strand of special mana into it. The numbers on the patch's panel jumped with each infusion, climbing from 0.5 to 1.3, then 2.4... until they stopped at 5 — meaning the judge had poured 5 units of special mana into the student's arm.
Throughout the infusion, the judge stayed extremely careful, terrified of a slip and accidentally killing the contestant. Even ordinary high school students cost money to injure — depending on the "breed," the price varied. And if it turned out to be a contracted student, the compensation was far costlier. After all, it wasn't unheard of for a Foundation Building expert's stray battle-backwash to kill an innocent bystander, only to discover the victims were a dozen heavily invested senior geniuses, leaving the expert ruined by the stretched-out settlement of training fees, meals, tuition, tutoring, and sterilization surgery.
During those few seconds of infusion, the student's body tensed and his breathing grew heavy — the special mana was already taking effect. Even without anyone directing it to attack, merely lingering in the body did its own quiet damage. Fortunately, the students had taken painkillers, so the discomfort stayed bearable.
Once the infused mana hit 5, the panel started a timer recording how long the student took to dissolve it — the shorter the time, the higher the score. Since infusions happened at different moments, ranking was by each student's own duration, not by sequence.
After stopping, the judge took a capsule from an assistant, swallowed it, and smiled at the camera. "Recovering mana? Choose Purple Cloud. One of these spirit-coagulation capsules and I can infuse fifty more students without a problem."
So as the match began, judge after judge injected special mana into student after student. More and more contestants closed their eyes and worked their energy, until the arena fell into silence, filled only with breathing and exhaling.
From the moment that strand entered, Zhang Yu felt as if a fire burned on his right arm, growing hotter with every infusion. Sharp pain kept hammering into his brain, and he finally understood why so many contestants took painkillers. Right now he was hurting so much he wanted to punch the judge still pouring mana into him right in the face.
"Damn it — no wonder there were people selling insurance outside. This competition is way too injury-prone."
He hastily activated the Wild Bull Soul-Suppressing Heart Art, and the unbearable pain finally began to fade. Then he directed his dantian mana toward his right arm.
"What got injected is a heating-type special mana."
"Then I need low-temperature mana to fight it."
Recalling Teacher Yan's mana-transformation route, Zhang Yu converted his mana into a cold stream rushing to his right arm. Wherever it passed, a cool relief spread, like a bucket of ice water dumped over him. The moment the low-temperature mana collided with the invading heating mana, the heat in his arm began to recede — but his cold mana drained fast, like throwing a bucket of water on a fire. The flames dropped, but the water was gone too.
He could only convert as much mana as possible to keep dousing the blaze. Thankfully, the Zhou Tian Qi Gathering Method's full-body circulation kept restoring his mana, the Wild Bull Soul-Suppressing Heart Art steadied his spirit, and his formidable mana control let him keep converting cold mana without pause.
...
Not long earlier, before the judge had even reached Songyang High School, in White Dragon High School's section, Han Xingye cast a glance at Song Hailong dissolving his special mana, then looked to the big screen. *Should be about time now?*
Inside Song Hailong, mana surged like a great river toward the burning clump in his arm. The Kang Ling Injection kept restoring him, and with his enormous mana reserve he could circulate recklessly, wrapping the whole burning clump to snuff it out in one breath. The medicine had suppressed his pain to almost nothing, leaving him free to think only of the task.
"With my mana and my control, who in this round could be faster than me?"
Just then a cry went up across the arena. A student groaned and crumpled — soon fed a mana-dissolving pill. "Nothing, just mana exhaustion." Moments later another collapsed coughing blood, his special mana scattered through his body and caused internal injuries. Han Xingye glanced over: *Worthless. Worthless. Worthless.* More ordinary-school students would fail, out of mana, control, or poor medicine. He didn't care.
"Think taking the same pills as us closes the gap? Everyone doping just widens it."
The screen flashed: White Dragon High School, Song Hailong, 1:29. Han Xingye smiled. "Oh? Faster than at school. The atmosphere fires him up."
Name after name filled the screen until ten rows were taken. Ranks two through ten shuffled constantly, yet Song Hailong's name held fast at the top as if suppressing every student in the arena by himself. Soon the rows stopped moving, and a student spotted the obvious: "These ten... they're all White Dragon students!" After Song Hailong took the top, the rest dissolved their mana one by one and swept every board position.
Teacher Yan stared at the ten frozen names and felt a mountain standing before Songyang High School. "Sigh, the Three Great Elite Schools... at the end of the day, this kind of match is their turf."
Then everyone from second to ninth slid down a spot as a newcomer burst to second place: Red Tower High School, Xiong Bufan, 1:35. Two more Red Tower students soon squeezed into the top ten. Han Xingye turned toward their direction and, through the Heaven Eye Talisman's vision, found the most eye-catching tags: Protection Zone | Medicine Barrel | High-Speed Mana.
"Protection zone" was easy — the demon-kin must come from a demonic-heritage protection zone. "High-speed mana" he wasn't sure about, but the "medicine barrel" he understood all too well. "How much medicine have they stuffed into this demon-kin? Secretly running drug experiments on demons, huh? That body must be full of banned substances — you guys really should be reported."
What? Our school does it too? On humans? Oh well, never mind then.
Xiong Bufan's showing brought Red Tower plenty of glory, but he hadn't taken the top — White Dragon still ruled. Yet moments later the top nine slid down one position again, and as Yue Mulan of Purple Cloud dropped into first place out of nowhere, it was as if a thunderclap struck the air. Purple Cloud High School, Yue Mulan, 00:25.
"25 seconds!"
Students cried out in disbelief. They could hardly imagine dissolving that alien mana in 25 seconds when they'd been fighting for their lives against it. Was she even human? Everyone could tell Yue Mulan was locked to a perfect 100 in this round — only the ceiling capped her, or her lead would be far larger.
This was Han Xingye's third shock of the day. Frowning at "ice-skin jade-bone" over Yue Mulan's head, he guessed her speed came from some special constitution. Song Hailong, unbothered, laughed toward Purple Cloud. "Interesting, interesting. Looks like my greatest rival for the next three years is this Yue Mulan."
A full minute passed before the other Purple Cloud students finished, finally sending Lian Tianji and one more into the top ten. In the end Yue Mulan, Song Hailong, and Xiong Bufan took first, second, third, and the top ten was carved up entirely: four from White Dragon, three from Purple Cloud, three from Red Tower.
Watching the ranking sit utterly still, the students felt a heavy weight settle on them. For most, this was the first real taste of the gap between them and the Three Great Elite Schools. Those ten names and scores pressed down like a great mountain, showing the chasm separating the elite from everyone else.
But just then, the ranking shifted again. Everyone from fourth to tenth slid down one position. With the Three Great Elite Schools practically owning the entire arena, someone had cut straight in and forced his way to fourth.
Songyang High School, Zhang Yu, 1:38.
The timer let out a soft *beep* when it detected Zhang Yu had dissolved his special mana — and that faint beep dropped like a stone into the still hearts of the nearby Songyang students. The elite-school students cast instinctive glances Songyang's way, never expecting a near-peer among them. Teacher Yan stared at the board, then hastily pulled out her phone to photograph it.
These were all precious teaching achievements.