--
"No use—even if your burst is strong and your speed's fast, it's nothing to the wind! And I am the wind!"
Su Mo stood rooted, frowning hard. Guys who shrugged off physical damage pissed him off to no end.
He needed an elemental damage skill—ASAP.
Since his attacks weren't landing, he stopped swinging.
"Worn out, huh? Well then, my turn!"
The guy's voice stayed smooth and classy. A crescent-shaped wind blade formed in his hand, lazily flicked out, and smashed into Su Mo.
[Boom!]
The wind blade, sharp as hell, slammed into him full force.
Su Mo didn't budge—but the suited-up poser blanched, then spewed a mouthful of blood.
The second he puked, Su Mo didn't hesitate—another [Mountain Collapse, Earth Shatter] roared out.
Next thing, Su Mo got the ping: opponent eliminated.
In those two minutes, he'd unleashed over 50 skills—nearly one every three seconds.
That kind of insane burst and stamina had everyone's hearts pounding.
Forget now—they were just Silvers. Even a Gold-rank facing this relentless onslaught would cough up spit, and only a pure tank Gold at that.
Anyone else stepping up to that firepower? Instant death!
Strength-wise, one touch from Su Mo was a one-shot—past fights proved it. His power was off the charts, pegging him as a strength-type!
Speed? He was damn near keeping up with the Feng family—hardly slow there.
Burst? Didn't even need mentioning.
And the kicker—Su Mo had a damage reflection skill!
Strength, speed, burst—all top-tier, plus reflection? A 365-degree no-blind-spot beast!
Call him a porcupine—no one knew where to start.
Conclusion: Su Mo's awakened a speed-strength burst class, at least God-tier.
By now, if you couldn't figure out who Tu Hongwu wanted as his disciple, you didn't deserve to be in this exam.
So what?
Tu Hongwu said top scorer gets the slot—they still had a shot.
New challengers locked eyes, nodding. They came with a mission.
If they couldn't snag the God-rank disciple spot, they'd damn well secure it for their country.
Cue the wheel war.
…
Didn't matter the foe—Su Mo stuck to one move!
10, 50, 100—the body count climbed!
No retries here. Lose elsewhere, you're just knocked off—keep fighting.
Lose to Su Mo? One hit, dead, done.
They tried wheel wars, human wave tactics, draining his stamina.
But the more they threw in, the less Su Mo budged—they started panicking.
Even the motormouth host, stuck on Arena 1's carnage, could only loop two lines:
"He's up—he's down, Su Mo got him!"
"Look, another one's charging—can he take a hit? Nope, smoked again!"
Below, challengers—and every viewer glued to the broadcast—cursed as their nation's, faction's, or city's fighters got flattened by Su Mo.
"Kite him—dodge the skills! Wear him out!"
"You trash—can't even dodge one hit?!"
"Don't go head-on, you idiot—with your strength, why'd you clash?!"
"Dodge, dodge—I've said it a million times—don't attack, he's got reflection!"
"Useless—I wanna shove your head up your ass! What's in that skull? Head-on's suicide!"
Two hours in, Su Mo alone had axed over 200 challengers.
Everyone below, and the audience, went numb.
Still, some mumbled dazedly: "No way, no way—even iron breaks down. Tire him out, and we've got a chance!"
"Keep sending bodies—don't let up. That's our shot at draining him."
Truth be told, two hours of nonstop skills and swings had Su Mo feeling it.
His 1,000 physique held up, but Level 3 [Mountain Collapse, Earth Shatter] chewed stamina way harder than before.
Killing mobs, he'd get free attribute points to top off his physique.
Here? Student IDs meant no gains—zero refill.
Late-game, when he could skip skills, he did—something the others picked up on.
But no one dared test it. Earlier, they'd sent two challengers a minute to burn him out.
Three hours later, everyone gunning for Tu Hongwu's disciple spot was toast.
On Arena 1, Su Mo gripped his halberd, eyes scanning below. The original exam crowd—those not after him—dropped their gazes under his stare.
Su Mo stood like a king—his rep and strength unrivaled among peers!
The planned eight-hour ranking exam had a dozen challengers left, but it was wrapping up—no one dared step to him now.
Chu Tian and Xiao Hongtu, once eyeing a shot at him, gave up.
God-rank disciple was tempting, but challenging meant elimination.
Second and third place were theirs—why ditch that for a hopeless maybe?
Back at Tianfu High's plaza, Old Man Wang had sweated bullets watching Su Mo get swarmed.
Now? He threw his head back, howling: "I said it—top scorer's ours! Noble heirs? Foreigners? One-hit fodder against Tianfu High!"
At home, Su Yu hugged a pillow on the couch, squealing as Su Mo dominated the arena.
Time ticked by—exam over!
--