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After a long, chaotic intro rivaling an Olympic opening ceremony, the ranking exam finally kicked off.
Thanks to Tu Hongwu's disciple announcement, not only did a flood of foreign and hidden domestic noble heirs jump in,
but the rules got a slight tweak too.
Originally, the arena challenge let you pick fights within 10 ranks of your spot.
Now? Anyone could challenge anyone—though if the defender held their ground, they got a 30-minute break before the next fight.
Meaning everyone could swarm Su Mo right out the gate—first place was their target from the jump.
A glowing orb exploded in the sky, scattering into specks of light that rained down on the crowd below.
Numbers popped up above their heads, marking challenge order.
A white guy, spotting the "1" over his head, grinned wide and shouted, "I'm challenging number one!"
All eyes snapped to the No. 1 arena—or rather, they'd never left it.
Who wouldn't salivate over a shot at being a God-rank disciple?
Su Mo stood on the platform, face blank. He'd guessed this the moment he heard the rules.
So what?
With his current strength and damage reflection skill, even standing still, they couldn't touch him.
[Whoosh!]
The guy leaped onto the massive arena, a gleaming shield and knightly longsword already in hand.
He gave Su Mo a knight's salute. "Level 48 Silver Shield Knight—please, let's spar!"
Su Mo blinked at the gesture, then hefted his Yue-Breaking Fang Tian Halberd and returned a casual bow. "Level 9 Awakened—let's spar!"
Locals didn't bat an eye—Su Mo's Level 9 prowess was old news.
But the foreigners? They lost it.
What'd they just hear? Great Xia's No. 1 was a measly Level 9?!
If not for the crowd's calm acceptance, they'd have doubted their ears.
Regret hit them hard—why hadn't they snagged the first challenge?
Beating a Level 9 weakling with their strength? Cakewalk.
Even if they didn't hold the top spot 'til the end, knocking off No. 1 would score big rewards back home.
Too bad that golden ticket went to some lucky bastard.
The guy facing Su Mo froze at his words.
His stern look twisted into a sneer.
The shield vanished—he gripped his sword two-handed, lunged forward with a mighty leap, and swung straight at Su Mo.
Mid-air, he could already picture splitting Su Mo in two.
He'd even rehearsed his victory interview and prize pickup back home.
Su Mo eyed the charging challenger and shook his head. "Slow—way too slow."
He thrust the Yue-Breaking Fang Tian Halberd forward. The guy, still airborne, only saw a flicker in Su Mo's hand before an odd weapon parked right where he'd land.
Panic surged—he aborted his swing, the shield flashing back up.
Too late. Su Mo switched from a thrust to a sweep.
[Crack!]
The giant shield shattered on impact with the halberd.
Momentum unchecked, half the guy's body got blasted off. The broken shield flew hundreds of meters past the arena's edge under the terrifying force.
Sure, exam deaths got a student ID revive, but it kicked you out of the running.
Start to finish? Under 30 seconds.
Below the arena, every challenger's breath hitched.
They'd figured this Level 9 No. 1 had something special.
But a Level 48 Sword-and-Shield Knight not lasting one move—and getting wiped out? Unreal.
"Match over. XXX eliminated. Next challenger, pick your arena."
This time, it was a Great Xia local—another exam vet.
After seeing Su Mo's strength, he took a deep breath and picked No. 89.
Some scoffed at his choice; others nodded approval.
With the rules, mid-to-lower ranks were the safest bets right now.
Since defenders got a 30-minute breather post-challenge, Su Mo plopped down on the arena floor, watching the others.
It wasn't like only one fight could go at a time.
With 100 arenas, Su Mo's bout just stole the spotlight—and ended too damn fast.
His swift takedown showed off his power, making those itching for a wheel war on him after the cooldown think twice.
A red-haired guy—angled bangs covering half his face—strolled up to Su Mo's arena and drawled:
"Heh, interesting. Think flexing like that'll scare us off? Bursting all your strength to drop a guy in one go—how many times can you pull that trick?
Just half an hour? No biggie—I'll climb from No. 10 and work my way to you."
He strutted off, hopping onto the No. 10 arena:
"Level 52 Silver Killmatt!"
A chain whipped around his hands as he spoke, his clothes sprouting rips.
That red mop of hair bobbed, one visible eye sneering at his opponent.
"Level 49 Silver Warlock!"
Ye Bufan eyed the punked-out guy, annoyed but still giving his intro.
"No worries—I don't care about your name. Just remember mine. Feel the despair—Killmatt Soul Awakening!"
[Boom!]
A massive speaker crashed down from the sky, slamming onto the arena. Deafening, chaotic DJ beats blasted across the field.
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