Dustin caught the flash of cold malevolence gleaming in the eyes of the young man in white. His brows furrowed slightly.
"Do I know you?" Dustin asked his tone calm yet laced with a trace of sharpness.
The young man in white let out a snort, his posture relaxed but his gaze filled with disdain. "Know me? Of course not. Someone like you doesn't have the qualifications to know who I am."
Dustin chuckled coldly. "Since I don't know you, then what gives you the right to run your mouth at me the moment you show up? Who exactly do you think you are?"
A hint of coldness flashed in the white-clad youth's eyes. But almost immediately, he smirked mockingly, as if enjoying a personal joke. "No wonder you dared to offend the Zhang family. A lowborn like you… you must be blind with courage."
He tightened his eyes, his voice dropping an octave, sharp as a blade. "But let me offer you some advice—figure out your place. Emery Liu would never have anything to do with a street rat like you."
At those words, Dustin's gaze naturally shifted to Emery Liu. There was no denying she was breathtaking, the kind of woman who could enchant any man's eyes. But if he was sincere with himself, his admiration for Emery wasn't love—it was a simple appreciation of beauty, like gazing at a fine portrait or a blooming flower.
After all, with the Pearl of Life and Death in his possession, Dustin's horizons had long since expanded beyond the petty limitations of Novaridge City. Through his struggles, he had learned an undeniable truth: without power, everything else—status, wealth, love—was merely a fantasy.
What Dustin pursued was not a woman. It was strength. Absolute strength.
And yet, the young man's cutting words, paired with Emery's silence, gnawed at him. Could it be that deep down, she shared the same condescension?
Before the environment grew heavier, Emery Liu finally spoke, her brows slightly furrowed. "Jeth, enough."
She cast a glance at Dustin. "Dustin helped me. I won't allow you to insult him."
Her voice was obvious, but there was something else beneath it—an air of distance as if she were keeping lines carefully drawn. Then, after a brief hesitation, she retrieved a letterhead from her sleeve, exquisitely crafted, and offered it to him.
"If you fail the assessment in three months, take this to the Liu family. I will arrange for someone to look after you."
Dustin smiled faintly. So that's how it was—kindness wrapped in condescension. Becoming a guard in her family? A quiet reminder of their difference in status cloaked politely.
He met her gaze. There was a trace of something hidden there. Pity? Obligation?
"No need," Dustin declined without a second thought. He raised the martial arts manuals in his arms and added casually, "I've got more pressing matters—training to do."
Without sparing another glance, he turned and walked away, his figure resolute, disappearing through the doors of the library.
Emery stood still, eyes flickering. She seemed lost in thought.
Behind her, Jeth scoffed dismissively. "Emery, there's no need to waste time on trash like that."
But Emery merely shook her head. "Maybe… I hurt his pride."
"Pride?" Jeth laughed coldly. "People like him don't deserve to have pride."
…
Leaving the library, Dustin registered the manuals with the elder guarding the pavilion. The courtyard outside was quiet, Maddox Lu and Miguel Hui nowhere in sight—likely still nursing their injuries.
Back in his room, Dustin settled into meditation. The world faded away as he visualized the Life Vein Diagram, channeling his inner energy toward refining the second-rank cultivation technique, the Easy Jin Bone Forging Technique.
For two whole days, he worked tirelessly, improving and reshaping the method. By the end, the technique had reached its peak—there was nothing more to refine.
Without hesitation, he began practicing. The energy of heaven and earth surged toward him, surrounding him like a thin mist. Every inhalation drew energy into his body, and under the subtle influence of the Pearl of Life and Death, that energy was transmuted into the polarized essence of life and death.
At this phase—between the fourth and sixth levels of body refinement—the focus was on tempering tendons and hardening bones. The polarized energy coursed through Dustin's limbs, strengthening flesh and marrow while also storing an abundance of inner strength, ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice.
The stronger his body became, the more refined his internal energy grew.
Time blurred. Days bled into nights, unnoticed. By the time Dustin emerged from his focused retreat, an entire month had passed.
Opening his eyes slowly, he clenched his fists and sensed the surge of strength within.
"The fifth level of body refinement," he murmured to himself. "A month's effort… If I had the same resources as those wealthy clan disciples—elixirs, vitality stones, cultivation arrays—I could've achieved the sixth level by now."
But the reality was reality. Pills, formations, precious stones—they all cost money. More than he possessed.
He exhaled, suppressing the thought. Strength first, everything else later.
With his cultivation base stabilized, he moved to the next task—martial arts and movement techniques.
Starting in his room, Dustin began practicing Dragon-Tiger Fist, the second-rank martial skill he'd chosen. Yet, as with all things, he wasn't content to follow the manual blindly. Visualizing the Life Vein Diagram, he gradually imbued quiet improvements into the technique, harmonizing it with the profound truths of life and death imprinted deep within his bones.
His fists moved fluidly. Life energy coiled, and death energy surged. His body felt like a tiger poised to pounce, black radiance shimmering faintly over his skin, shadows of death flickering in the air.
"Roar—!"
His punch attacked forward. The power was immense.
The wooden table before him smashed, splinters flying. Even the stone wall bore the imprint of his fist, deep cracks spiderwebbing outward.
Dustin stepped back, surprised but exhilarated.
"The raw power… it's already at the level of a third-rank martial art."
He recalled that the Dragon-Tiger Fist comprised two stances—Fierce Tiger Form and Soaring Dragon Form. He'd only tested the tiger form so far. What level of destruction would the dragon form unleash?
But this room was no place to experiment further—another blow might bring the whole place down.
With that thought, Dustin gathered his manuals and stepped outside, heading toward the Martial Arena. There was another technique he needed to practice—Inch inch-step movement Technique—and more space would serve him better.
…
In the Blackstone area of the Martial Arena, dull thuds echoed rhythmically.
A black-clad young man was attacking a black stone stele repeatedly, each punch landing with heavy force. Dents stained the stone's surface, though they slowly began smoothing out on their own—the special property of black stone.
Nearby, a few girls giggled, their eyes alight with admiration.
"Senior Gavin Zhao is amazing," one sighed dreamily. "He's already in the intermediate class!"
"If only I were half as strong as him..."
Dustin recognized the boy in black. Gavin Zhao—a favored student from the intermediate class, already an eighth-level body refiner. He hailed from a wealthy family and was the pride of Novaridge City's Martial Hall, tipped to ascend to the advanced class soon.
Dustin approached quietly, choosing an unused black stone stele.
But almost immediately, murmurs began to ripple through the crowd.
"Who's that guy? He doesn't look like he belongs here…"
"Wait, isn't he from the elementary class? I heard he beat two intermediate students outside the library!"
"No way… someone from the junior class came to practice in the Blackstone area?"
Some scoffed openly. "Without at least sixth-level body refinement, no one leaves a mark on black stone. Let's see him embarrass himself."
Their words floated over to Gavin Zhao, who paused his punches and peeked Dustin's way.
"The Blackstone area isn't a playground for trash from the junior class," he remarked loftily.
Dustin ignored the jab. Without a word, he raised his fist—and drove it hard into the black stone stele.
Bang!
To the crowd's shock, a shallow dent appeared. No martial arts, no inner energy—pure physical force alone had left its mark.
A hush fell over the arena. The smirks froze. Even Gavin Zhao's brows twitched.
"Maybe he used inner energy…" someone mumbled, trying to rationalize.
Gavin, arms folded, nodded patronizingly. "Obviously. Without qi or martial arts, how could a lowborn like him do it?"
But before they could finish convincing themselves, Dustin stepped forward again. This time, he channeled the life and death energy through his fist.
Boom!
The black stone shook faintly. A distinct, deep fist mark appeared on its surface, more pronounced than before.
The crowd stared, stunned into silence.
Even Gavin Zhao's expression darkened.
Dustin smiled faintly, withdrawing his hand.
Strength spoke louder than words.