A suffocating quiet descended once more over the crowd. No one had anticipated the outcome to unfold like this.
Dustin swept his gaze coldly over the sea of faces, his strong eyes carrying an unspoken warning. Without a word, he turned and strode away.
The crowd instinctively parted, no one daring to stand in his way.
"Dustin from the junior class… he's not human, he's a freak!"
"I heard some people develop late, but once they do, they improve at a terrifying rate!"
"He just now scanned us all—clearly a warning. Brothers, mark my words: don't offend this guy lightly."
"Gavin Zhao? Completely ruined. Dustin used him as a stepping stone to make his name known."
Whispers filled the air, yet amidst the chatter, no one dared deny Dustin's strength. In the Martial Hall, strength was the sole currency. Only those who stood at the top were paid respect and recognition.
Leaving the Black Rock Area behind, Dustin didn't return to his residence. Instead, his figure disappeared into a secluded bamboo forest.
Within the forest, several open spaces were peppered with wooden stakes of varying sizes and distances—no two were the same. It was here that many Martial Hall students honed their footwork and body techniques.
Dustin leaped onto a stake with practiced ease, the aged wood beneath him scarred from years of training. Memories stirred. When he was a child, his father had taught him a hard truth: only through suffering could one carve out a path. The first lesson every student heard upon entering Martial Hall echoed the same.
Closing his eyes, Dustin recalled the meridian circulation pattern of the second-grade movement technique, Inch Step. While visualizing it, he simultaneously used the Life-Vein Diagram to subtly optimize its flaws. His figure blurred, moving agilely from stake to stake.
Tap!
A light step transmitted him from a short stake to a taller one. At first, his movements were measured, adjusting to the rhythm. But soon, his speed accelerated, footwork flowing like water.
Thud!
Suddenly, a misstep—the distance between stakes had tripped him up. It was easy to control the spacing at slow velocities, but the faster he went, the more unforgiving the stakes became.
Dustin climbed up again, relentless. Time blurred. He immersed himself fully, consumed by the body technique, dancing between stakes as if nothing else existed.
Martial skills and body techniques, like internal energy cultivation, were separated into four levels:
Entry, Small Mastery, High Mastery, and Perfection.
For second-grade martial arts, achieving Small Mastery was already comparable to an entry-level third-grade martial art. High Mastery rivaled intermediate stages and Perfection could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with a third-grade Spirit Refining expert!
Thus, while higher-grade martial arts inherently possessed tremendous power, cultivating lower-grade techniques to their peak could just as easily fight the strong.
Dustin's Dragon Tiger Fist honed with his unparalleled comprehension and the assistance of the Life and Death Pearl, had reached the High Mastery level—far beyond Gavin Zhao, who hadn't even touched the threshold of his third-grade techniques.
In the days that followed, Dustin remained focused. By day, he drilled in martial arts and body techniques. By night, he meditated, refining his internal energy and inching closer to a breakthrough.
Everyone in the Martial Hall was preparing for the looming annual assessment. Each fought desperately for a future—whether for promotion, status, or survival.
Rumors spread.
"Jude Zhang has been quiet lately, but I heard he bought an Energy Nourishing Pill. He's trying to break through to the eighth level of Body Refining."
One morning, as Dustin emerged from his cultivation, the information crossed his mind like a whisper.
He wasn't surprised. His cultivation and strength had steadily improved, but Jude Zhang's resources far outmatched his own. Martial arts became increasingly hard as one advanced, often requiring external resources to cross bottlenecks. Pills, arrays, secret treasures—the rich had no shortage of options.
It was said that once one broke through to the Innate Realm, they surpassed mortal limits, extending their lifespan to three hundred years.
But before reaching Innate, even those in the Energy Gathering Realm remained mortal—simply stronger than the average person.
Dustin clenched his fists.
"I need to improve faster…"
The progress of Dragon Tiger Fist was steady—just a step away from Perfection. But Inch Step lagged.
To force his improvement, Dustin devised a brutal method: he scattered thorn-laden vines beneath the stakes. Each barb was sharp, black, and cruel. Any misstep meant falling onto them, getting slashed and pierced.
He went even further, shaving each stake thinner, balancing on barely a sliver.
His relentless, almost self-destructive training soon caught the attention of fellow students. Word spread fast, and it wasn't long before a crowd gathered in secret, watching from the bamboo shadows.
"Is he trying to kill himself?"
"No wonder he's advancing so fast. Anyone who trains like this… how could they not?"
Some among them, especially those from humble backgrounds, were deeply moved. Motivated by Dustin's ferocity, they, too, began to push themselves harder.
On the stakes, Dustin's footwork had already reached the Small Mastery level. But he sensed he was still one breath away from advancing further.
Eyes closed, his movements blurred unpredictably—sometimes jumping forward, sometimes retreating, sometimes twisting sharply. No longer restricted to routine, his body flowed naturally.
It was said that merely following set forms could only bring a technique to the Entry level. True mastery lay in grasping the essence, transcending the form.
For High Mastery and beyond, understanding alone wasn't enough. It demanded opportunity, inspiration—a flash of insight that broke the chains holding one back.
Martial arts had no shortcuts. Talent, perseverance, and fortune were all essential.
In the past, Dustin had practiced unsystematically. But ever since fusing with the Life and Death Beads, something within him had changed.
He had developed a true martial heart.
"High Mastery."
Suddenly, his figure halted mid-step. The bamboo rustled, the wind stirred, and the earth spun—but he stood still, like a solitary stone in a raging river.
Opening his eyes, a faint smile tugged at his lips. With a leap, he vanished into the forest depths.
The crowd left behind murmured in astonishment.
"Did you see that? His footwork—could he have reached Small Mastery already?"
"I heard Dustin selected three second-grade martial arts: Tendon-Easing Bone-Strengthening, Dragon Tiger Fist, and Inch Step."
"Everyone knows Dragon Tiger Fist and Inch Step are notoriously hard to master. Barely anyone gets past Entry."
"Last time, when he fought Gavin Zhao, his Dragon Tiger Fist was as strong as third-rank martial arts—he must've reached High Mastery!"
Speculation buzzed. No one doubted Dustin's aptitude anymore.
A mere fifth-level Body Refining cultivator, yet his overall strength was rumored to rival seventh-level experts. It was unheard of.
Still, even amid the praise, skeptics remained.
"Doesn't matter how hard he tries," one voice muttered. "He's no match for Jude Zhang. Word is, Jude's about to break through to the eighth level. Once that happens, he'll enter the advanced class."
"Dustin was foolish to ever oppose the Zhang family."
Back in his residence, Dustin sat cross-legged, deep in thought.
"My martial arts and techniques are complete, but… my cultivation still lags."
His qi had solidified at the peak of the fifth level, unable to break through.
Each step forward felt like scaling a cliff—the higher he climbed, the harder it became. He had firsthand experience of the harshness of martial cultivation.
"At this stage, I can't rely solely on breathing exercises. Auxiliary methods are necessary."
But pills and arrays required wealth—something Dustin sorely lacked. His family scraped by on his father's meager salary. A single Energy Nourishing Pill could cost tens of thousands of silver taels.
Jude Zhang's recent retreat had likely drained such sums without blinking.
If Dustin wanted to shatter the limits, he had to seize opportunities with his own hands.
The upcoming annual examination meant little to him. Nor did the inevitable clash with Jude Zhang.
His ambitions were set much higher.
Many spent their lives chasing the Energy Gathering Realm or even the Innate Realm, dreaming of extending their lifespans.
But Dustin, blessed with the Life and Death Beads and his unique conditions, refused to stop there.
A glint flashed in his eyes.
"It's time to act."