Before Jude Zhang could finish his comments, his figure unexpectedly lunged forward. Without hesitancy, he slashed at Dustin's chest with a sharp palm strike, the power behind it slicing the air like a blade. A fierce gust followed in its wake.
Seeing Jude's rash attack, Dustin's expression turned cold. He crossed his arms before his chest, blocking the strike head-on.
Bang!
A jarring pain shot through Dustin's arm bones as the force rippled through him, forcing him to stumble several steps backward.
'As expected of someone at the seventh level of Body Refinement,' Dustin thought, eyes narrowing. 'Both speed and strength far surpass mine.'
Gritting his teeth, Dustin steadied himself. His inner energy surged, transforming into a stream of energy that quickly mended the ruptures in his lifeline. The searing pain in his arms slowly vanished.
"Hmm?" Jude Zhang raised an eyebrow. "You didn't fall?"
His eyes swept over Dustin with surprise. "A commoner like you injuring my useless brother—seems you have some tricks."
Though surprised Dustin hadn't collapsed instantly, Jude remained confident. After all, he was not only at the seventh stage of Body Refinement but had also learned third-rank martial arts.
Without a word, he stepped forward again, clawed fingers twisting menacingly. This time, his iron eagle claws shot toward Dustin's neck, sharp winds howling around his fingertips.
This was the true Iron Eagle Claw—far more deadly than Joshua Zhang's crude attempt days earlier.
But before the strike landed—
"Enough!"
A sharp voice cracked through the air like a whip.
Jude Zhang instinctively halted, turning his head. Striding toward them was a tall woman in a crisp, white military uniform. Her curves were accentuated by the tight fit, her long legs carrying her with an effortless, commanding grace. Cold, piercing eyes swept over the scene.
"Teacher Maeve!" The surrounding Martial Hall students quickly saluted, standing straight.
This was Maeve—a famed instructor at Novaridge City's Martial Hall. Not only was she astonishingly beautiful, but she was also a genuine master at the Energy Gathering Realm. Her strength, talent, and icy behavior had earned her both fear and admiration.
Faced with her, Jude Zhang immediately withdrew his hand, bowing slightly. "Teacher Maeve."
Dustin, too, bowed in greeting, though he couldn't help but feel uneasy under her sharp gaze.
Maeve's eyes lingered on Jude Zhang. "Seventh level of Body Refinement. Intermediate class. Yet here you are, bullying a junior class student. Is that how a martial artist conducts himself?"
Her voice was calm, but there was a frost beneath her words.
Jude Zhang straightened his back, forcing a smile. "Teacher Maeve misunderstands. This Dustin injured my younger brother. Naturally, I, as an elder brother, must uphold our family's honor."
Maeve shifted her attention to Dustin, her gaze scrutinizing.
Honestly, she hadn't paid much attention to this quiet student in the past. He was one of the countless commoner-background disciples who showed no promise for years. Generally, Martial Hall instructors turned a blind eye to skirmishes among students; competition was part of cultivation. Yet Dustin's recent victory over Joshua Zhang, who had been a dominant figure in the junior class, had caught even her off guard.
Her brows furrowed slightly. The fourth level of Body Refinement?
She distinctly remembered him being at the second level not long ago.
'Did he finally break through some hidden bottleneck?' she pondered. Some cultivators took longer to reveal their potential, but once their path cleared, their strength could soar rapidly.
Maeve, despite her aloof nature, favored such commoners. Unlike the privileged scions who coasted by on their family names, these students fought tooth and nail, often enduring more hardship and showing more grit.
Her gaze sharpened, locking onto Dustin. There was something... off. His lifeline flickered unpredictably—especially near his heart channel. An imperfection. Curious.
Suppressing her thoughts, Maeve spoke loudly enough for all to hear. "Generally, as a teacher, I don't intervene in the disputes between students."
Her frosty eyes swept across the onlookers. "But the Martial Hall stands for justice and fairness. No one is above that."
Her gaze fixed back on Jude. "If you wish to challenge Dustin, wait until the promotion assessment in three months. If he qualifies for the intermediate class, then by all means, have your match. But until then, you should focus more on cultivating than throwing your weight around."
Everyone present caught the underlying meaning—Maeve was shielding Dustin.
The onlookers exchanged glances, envy flashing in many eyes. Normally, students like Joshua Zhang ran rampant precisely because they had backing. That Maeve had stepped in to protect Dustin meant something had changed.
Jude Zhang gripped his fists, displeasure flickering across his face. But no matter how unwilling he felt, he dared not defy Maeve.
It was well-known within the Martial Hall that her origins weren't simple. Even the elders treated her with marked respect.
He took a deep breath, forced a smile, and bowed. "Yes, Teacher Maeve. In three months, I'll settle this myself."
With that, he turned and stormed off.
The tension in the air gradually dissipated. Yet, everyone knew this was far from over.
Even if Dustin progressed to the intermediate class, at best he'd reach the fifth level of Body Refinement. The gap between him and Jude Zhang would remain considerable.
Dustin bowed deeply. "Thank you, Teacher Maeve."
Though confident he could hold his own in an actual fight, Maeve's intervention had spared him unnecessary trouble. He felt genuine appreciation.
Maeve nodded slightly, her expression softening just a fraction. "Breaking through at such a critical moment suggests you've potential. Don't squander it. Focus. Three months isn't long."
Without another word, she turned and walked away, the gathered crowd quickly dispersing.
Dustin watched her retreating figure, his brows knitting slightly. Just moments ago, when Maeve had approached, he had caught sight of her lifeline. It pulsed irregularly, fluctuating between strong and weak. Especially near the heart meridian—there was something strange there.
It was his first time observing the lifeline of an Energy Gathering Realm cultivator. Far sturdier than those in the Body Refinement Realm, and clearly beyond his current ability to affect.
'I'm still far too weak,' Dustin thought grimly. 'A few minor tricks won't protect me forever.'
His resolve hardened as he turned, making his way toward the Martial Hall's Book Collection Pavilion.
The pavilion loomed ahead—an important place where the Martial Hall stored countless martial arts techniques. Naturally, not just anyone could enter.
Before Dustin could approach, two figures strode forward, blocking his path.
"Stop right there. You're not allowed to enter the pavilion!" one barked coldly.
Dustin's eyes tightened. Moments earlier, he had seen several other students stroll inside unchallenged.
"And yet, you didn't stop them," he said evenly.
The one who spoke was Miguel Hui—a fifth-level Body Refinement student from the intermediate class. More importantly, he was a neighbor Dustin had known since childhood.
Miguel sneered, arms folded. "Those are young masters from noble families. They come to buy techniques or qualify by strength. You? A junior class commoner? Get lost."
His tone was dripping with condescension.
"I'm giving you advice as a neighbor, Dustin," Miguel smirked. "Go apologize to Joshua Zhang. Otherwise, it won't be just you—your parents, your little sister—they'll all suffer."
The other student at his side chuckled, adding mockingly, "So, you're the one who humiliated the Zhang family's young master? Hiding your claws all this time, huh?"
Dustin's patience thinned.
"According to the rules," he said coolly, "any student at the fourth level of Body Refinement may enter the pavilion. Are you planning to violate Martial Hall law?"
Miguel laughed dismissively. "Fourth level? You, Dustin? You were still at the second level days ago. Don't bluff."
But Dustin said nothing more. He inhaled sharply, circulating his cultivation technique. Instantly, the aura of a fourth-level Body Refinement martial artist burst forth. His muscles and bones resonated crisply—a clear sign of his breakthrough.
Miguel's grin faltered.
"Impossible…"
But then, his expression darkened. "Even if you are fourth-level, so what? I said you can't enter, and you won't!"
The blatant abuse of authority enraged Dustin, but Miguel didn't stop there.
"You crossed the Zhangs. Forget entering. You should consider yourself lucky you can still walk."
The second student reached out suddenly, grabbing at Dustin's collar, confident in his fifth-level strength.
Dustin's eyes flashed cold.
He no longer intended to tolerate it.
With a sharp breath, he unleashed a bull fist, muscles tensing