*Chhh!*
As smoothly as sliding a key into a lock, without the slightest apparent effort.
The blade sank into the throat! And then twisted!
Throughout the entire motion, not a trace of earthly strain lingered; the art of slaughter was displayed to absolute perfection.
Those killers from the Fine Arts Society who prided themselves on being professionals were like babbling toddlers before this Principal.
Yet from the neck of the man in the deep blue robe, no blossom of blood burst forth. Instead, sparkling ice shards spilled out with a clatter.
*Crack! Crack, crack, crack!*
In the blink of an eye, the man turned into a lifelike ice sculpture. Through his transparent form, a thread of blood could be clearly seen releasing from the folding knife at his neck, roaming throughout his entire body.
Wherever the thread of blood passed, it destroyed everything before it like snapping dry twigs; the ice sculpture shattered section by section, dozens of frozen chunks crashing to the floor.
"He's dead...?"
Bai Zhou froze for a second, his mind struggling to keep up. "That fast?"
The man had descended with frozen earth spreading beneath his feet and snowflakes swirling around him, an entrance effect extravagant beyond belief. How had this big shot shattered into dozens of ice pops in the span of a single breath?
"Impossible!"
Emerald Flame went pale with horror, and Rusted Silver Knight's armor rattled.
Reluctant though they were to admit it, Sword of Winter was indeed the strongest among them.
Facing this Principal, they hadn't seen what happened at all; they had only witnessed a folding knife suddenly plunge into Sword of Winter's neck—
And then Sword of Winter shattered.
Shattered in the literal, physical sense!
"...A fine trick."
Yet the Principal merely turned his head toward the Ice Soul Greatsword lodged in the ground not far away. His admiring gaze was like an educator looking upon a model student presenting his report card. "How many more statues like that do you have?"
*Hum!*
The man in the deep blue robe materialized right behind the greatsword, his face pale.
"Winter! You're all right?"
Emerald Flame let out a low gasp, breathing a sigh of relief.
If Sword of Winter had died so easily, she would have retreated immediately without hesitation, even with a Black Box on her person.
Sword of Winter remained silent and gave no reply, his figure swaying slightly where he stood.
He wasn't dead, but he was by no means unharmed.
Fortunately, the frozen soil beneath his feet supplied him with spirituality, allowing him to recover rapidly.
"What was that... just now?"
Looking at the Principal, Sword of Winter answered with an unrelated question.
"Asking questions when you encounter a problem is something worth encouraging."
The Principal smiled with mild gratification. "But a student of your age must learn to seek answers through your own practice."
This earnest instruction from the Principal cast a shadow over Sword of Winter's frosty countenance.
He truly could not comprehend how his ice puppet had been destroyed so effortlessly when he hadn't even seen what his opponent had done—
Though Emerald Flame and Rusted Silver Knight beside him had breathed a sigh of relief, Sword of Winter's mood could not brighten in the slightest.
He knew his own situation best. His ice puppet was condensed from the essence of his spirituality; in both defense and offense, it was stronger than his original body.
Forming even one such puppet took immense effort—and the Principal had asked how many more he had?
If he could manifest three ice puppets at once, he would have already ascended beyond Level 6 long ago, with no need to wade into these murky waters at personal risk!
This was the path of advancement he had chosen for himself, one that set him apart even from ordinary Level 6 Titled Extraordinaries, inspired by a quasi-King of Wicked Desires he had personally slain three years ago!
One could say that while the ice puppet existed, his true body was the puppet itself!
His physical form was hidden within the frozen earth beneath the Ice Soul Greatsword while his mental will inhabited the ice puppet. The shattering of an ice puppet meant that killing his true body wouldn't take the opponent much longer either.
—Yet how could this quasi-King of Wicked Desires be so strong?
He was certain the entity was not a fully realized King of Wicked Desires, so why did it possess such unfathomably bizarre methods?
On the surface, this mist-shrouded school seemed far less ferocious than the minor secret realm he had previously experienced—how could it have nurtured such an anomalous quasi-King of Wicked Desires?
By now, he was already contemplating picking up the Ice Soul Greatsword and making a tactical withdrawal back outside the school.
—Yet that quasi-King of Wicked Desires seemed to have no intention of giving him the chance.
*Shhk—*
The Principal flicked open the folding knife in his hand once more. Its blood-red handle was smooth and warm, clearly rubbed and polished often.
The extraordinarily sharp blade was like an obedient, nimble butterfly dancing among flowers in his grasp, twirling in a dazzling display.
"I know you each have your own methods. An outstanding educator always allows his students to display their individual strengths."
"However—"
The silver-haired gentleman first glanced back at Bai Zhou, then turned toward the three individuals standing in three separate spots, their footings resembling three distinct seasons, and bowed slightly. "My apologies, gentlemen."
The silver-haired gentleman turned the blade with consummate grace, his movements gentle as though unfurling an admission invitation for an incoming student. "I am pressed for time."
"So please, display them for me as quickly as you can."
The final sentence was spoken very softly.
Yet it made the hairs on all three stand on end!
Because that voice had clearly sounded from right behind them!
"When did—"
Confusion and horror were everyone's first reaction.
Rusted Silver Knight, clad in mottled heavy armor, reacted fastest. Combat instincts carved into his bones drove him to spin around and swing the steel greatsword in his hands, his hulking frame unnaturally agile.
Yet no sooner had his greatsword been raised than the silver-haired gentleman's figure appeared like a phantom on the knight's left, right, and rear simultaneously!
There was no trajectory of motion; in what seemed a single instant, three overlapping silhouettes appeared in midair.
The folding knife thrust forward, three strikes delivered at once!
*Buzz!*
The heavy armor droned as silver radiance erupted across Rusted Silver Knight to halt the knife's penetration.
The Principal let out a soft exclamation of mild surprise.
Immediately, a red glow flared from the folding knife.
This red glow didn't seem to contest the silver radiance at all; like an insect burrowing through, it wriggled right in, on the verge of penetrating the knight's armor.
Rusted Silver Knight's eyes nearly split with rage and panic.
"I've got you!"
At that moment, the emerald flames arrived.
Massive billows of jade-green fire intercepted the folding knife and swiftly engulfed the Principal's figure.
The eerie green flames danced wildly, their vibrant vitality exceptionally dynamic—capable of nurturing all things, yet equally capable of consuming everything!
Pale hair swayed within the blaze.
"What?"
Emerald Flame was taken aback, only to see the Principal moving gracefully through her flames as if performing a magnificent dance step.
Every time the folding knife thrust out, it precisely severed a tongue of flame on the verge of erupting, or tapped deftly and unerringly upon the core nexus where the flames' spirituality circulated.
"What on earth is this...?"
Emerald Flame felt intensely uncomfortable. Contrary to her expectations, there were no layered, head-on explosions, only an absolute crushing defeat at the level of pure technique.
The surging spirituality within her could not erupt at all. The internal and external spiritual cycles were constantly disrupted, the unstable cores of her flames repeatedly pierced, until she was on the verge of suffering internal injuries from her own choked power!
Emerald Flame even had the bizarre sensation that this silver-haired old man was dragging her into a forced dance!
The surging emerald flames clearly blanketed everything around them, devoid of living creatures, turning the world into an expanse of fire.
Yet this Principal strolled through it unhurriedly, even finding the time to tip his hat to Emerald Flame.
A taunt—what a humiliating taunt!
The habitually proud Emerald Flame took a deep breath. With her composure shaken, the backlash from her spiritual circulation being repeatedly severed could no longer be suppressed and came surging back.
*Pfft!*
Spitting out a mouthful of dark crimson blood, the surging spirituality across her body wilted, her condition plummeting, and even the emerald flames dimmed considerably.
"Strike! Winter!"
Shouting in fury without looking back, Emerald Flame had no idea what Sword of Winter was waiting for.
Waiting to die?
*Crack!*
Ice crystals spread and unfolded layer upon layer in midair as Sword of Winter charged in with sword in hand.
Yet the speed at which the chill spread fell far short of the Principal's footsteps.
Taking a leisurely step aside, he dodged the freezing, biting blade and tapped the folding knife lightly against the spine of the Ice Soul Greatsword.
*Clang—!*
A crisp, vibrating ring echoed out.
The extreme cold that sought to freeze everything seemed to collide with something incomprehensible as the two forces clashed.
Under the influence of his sword, frost coated his eyebrows and ice crusted over his face; across Sword of Winter's perpetually frozen countenance, an incomprehending shock surfaced.
Could even his sword... be handled so effortlessly?
Were they truly opponents on the same level?
Sword of Winter suddenly wondered if he had taken the wrong path—had he not been treading the road to advancement at all, but rather regressing, weaker even than three years ago?
Still, that strike managed to briefly repel the Principal.
Or rather, the Principal had pulled back two paces of his own accord.
To the senses of Rusted Silver Knight, Emerald Flame, and Sword of Winter, barely an instant had passed.
The elderly gentleman seemed as though he had never moved, returning to his initial standing position.
Yet unlike before, a shallow gouge now marked the chest of Rusted Silver Knight's armor;
The blazing flames encircling Emerald Flame had dimmed considerably;
Sword of Winter held the Ice Soul Greatsword in grim silence, nearly freezing himself into a snowman.
Only the Principal calmly closed his folding knife, slipping it back into the inner pocket of his suit, his demeanor as suave and poised as ever.
He raised a hand to straighten the slightly askew bow tie of his suit, then brushed away a speck of sparkling ice from his cuff.
Brushing his cuff, the Principal offered a casual critique: "One has ample strength but lacks adaptability, relying far too much on his armor. If you depend on external crutches, how can you achieve true greatness?"
Hearing this, Rusted Silver Knight fell mutely silent.
"The other has ample spirituality, yet her technique lacks refinement. Evidently haughty and overconfident, relying excessively on raw talent. Without change, I fear heaven will envy your brilliance; what is too rigid snaps easily!"
The Principal's words left Emerald Flame utterly stunned.
"As for you—"
The cold wind stirred his silvery-white hair. The Principal looked up toward the source of the chill. "Whether the path is right or wrong doesn't matter, for with every step, there has long been no turning back."
"Once a piece is played, there are no regrets. What matters is whether you possess the conviction that you are unequivocally right."
"You have been doubting your path all along, haven't you?"
"I suspect it is because the source of your path did not originate with you."
"—Yet if you continue like this, even after another ten years, you still will not advance!"
The scathing critique left each of these "great figures" looking bewildered.
Yet none of them offered a rebuttal.
For only they knew best that the words spoken by this Principal were likely entirely correct—
In the outside world, they were Titled Extraordinaries who bestrode all creation, revered by tens of thousands, majestic and imposing, undeniable titans of high society in both the surface and inner worlds!
Yet here, in this eerie, mist-draped school, before this aging educator—
They were like three reckless freshmen who knew nothing of the world, cowed by his words, the two sides simply not existing on the same plane.
They even had an inkling that if they could study by his side, perhaps the bottlenecks plaguing them would no longer be problems at all!
"Is he really just a quasi-King of Wicked Desires...?"
Sword of Winter couldn't help but look puzzled, subconsciously ceasing to refer to him as "it."
"Incomprehensible... but what makes the least sense is its ability!"
Emerald Flame recalled the stifling frustration of having immense power she couldn't unleash anywhere, her voice heavy. "Is it teleportation? A spatial ability? I don't understand. That's definitely not a domain a quasi-King of Wicked Desires should be able to touch!"
"You're right, but perhaps... it's something even more terrifying!"
Shaking his head somberly, Rusted Silver Knight spoke in a muffled rumble: "When fighting it, I felt as if my own time were being slowed down—even frozen!"
Time?
The word struck a chord with the other two simultaneously.
Feeling that swinging the greatsword was not fast enough, that the speed of channeling spirituality couldn't keep pace, that the spreading chill couldn't catch up—
Not fast enough! Not fast enough! Before this Principal, their crucial movements were always a fraction too late, a half-beat too slow; they constantly felt inadequate in speed!
"The problem is, how could a quasi-King of Wicked Desires possibly touch 'time'?!"
Emerald Flame looked bewildered, even gazing in disbelief at the churning mist around them and the dilapidated school buildings looming faintly within it. "What on earth happened in this minor secret realm?"
"There must be something we don't know!"
"Impossible—it can't possibly be 'time'!"
Sword of Winter quickly countered, however. "The Class-E Black Box I'm carrying has the effect of eliminating all external interference acting on oneself—warding off all evils!"
"Even if it were an effect of 'time,' the Black Box wouldn't have shown zero reaction!"
Hearing that, the towering Rusted Silver Knight clapped his head, his gauntlet clattering loudly against his heavy, silvery-white helm. "Then I know—"
"It's manipulating the ground! His ability must be manipulating the ground, or even manipulating the school, to achieve those visual effects like teleportation!"
"—"
Sword of Winter and Emerald Flame were struck dumb.
They felt the answer was utterly ridiculous, yet it seemed plausible enough that they couldn't refute it.
If only that were truly the case...
Yet their discussion came to an abrupt halt.
For the Principal spoke once more: "In such cold temperatures, a steaming cup of black tea would be truly fitting."
The Principal looked upon the three outsiders with a smile, his gaze gentle yet imbued with a calm that had weathered countless vicissitudes and seen through all things. "Now then, shall we continue, gentlemen?"
The answer went without saying.
The slaughter resumed.
Even Extraordinaries crowned with titles faced moments like this when there was no retreat.
And so, the hulking knight stood firmly in front like a mountain; emerald flames danced wildly in the air like thrashing serpents; the greatsword sealing the bitter winter sent icy winds howling, summoning violent blizzards with every swing.
—And amid it all, a silver-haired gentleman strolled and danced with effortless grace.
"..."
Bai Zhou stood behind the window, taking everything in as a dizzying spectacle.
Within the churning mist deep in the school, eerie green flames, a greatsword radiating silver brilliance, and howling blizzards—the battle between the four of them had altered at least three distinct weather phenomena in the area!
It was clearly a modern world, set amid a dilapidated school and swirling mist, yet three of them wore ancient armor and robes, battling the lone gentleman in a suit.
The grand scenes from myths and epics seemed to overlap with their silhouettes.
It was as if three heroes had stepped out of mythology, descending into the modern era to challenge an evil dragon disguised as a gentleman. History seemed overturned at this moment, much like the chaotic, billowing mist everywhere.
Compared to the petty squabbles Bai Zhou had encountered in the past, this was a true battle belonging to Extraordinaries.
Throughout past history, Extraordinaries had roared and fought with blade and sword on the battlefield; now it was the same. Compared to the roaring gunfire of enchanted firearms, they placed greater trust in the keen hum of their blades.
—This, too, was a romance unique to Extraordinaries.
Yet Bai Zhou quickly snapped out of it, realizing this was no time to admire the fight.
Watching their clash was indeed a rare opportunity for him.
Like an auditing student, he had not only sat in on a master teacher's lecture, but had also witnessed that master point out numerous flaws in elite students from prestigious schools.
He had benefited immensely.
In truth, however, Bai Zhou's reason was telling him plainly that he had better take this chance to flee immediately!
Otherwise, no matter who won later on, Bai Zhou, caught in the middle, would surely suffer!
A blue-and-white figure flashed by. While Number 9 and the other two remained entranced by the sight outside the window, Bai Zhou, clad in his school uniform, quietly slipped over a windowsill in the corner.
Tiptoeing out of the dilapidated teaching building, he made a wide detour around the fierce battlefield where blades hummed and the earth trembled, attempting to slip unnoticed into the churning mist in the distance.
*Tap—*
Then Bai Zhou halted in his tracks.
Because just as he was about to blend into the mist, he ran right into a heavily armed squad emerging from it!
*Where did these people come from...?*
As the group hurried out of the fog, Bai Zhou vaguely spotted their silhouettes from afar.
The leading man was burly and wore a tailored suit, a badge pinned to his chest.
As the distance between them narrowed, the insignia on the badge grew distinct.
It was a blooming bauhinia flower.
In Tinghai, most ordinary people and Extraordinaries were no strangers to this symbol.
"The Bauhinia... Group?"
Gazing at the completely unfamiliar group not far away, Bai Zhou blinked twice, his heart suddenly skipping half a beat.
Chapter 127