"Master…"
Lin Zhaoyu's palms were slick with cold sweat.
She instinctively edged a little closer to Fu Hua, lowering her voice to a whisper even softer than a mosquito's hum, afraid of alerting the humanoid tyrannosaur currently "charging up" in the middle of the hall.
"That girl… ahem, I mean, Little Martial Ancestor—don't you think she's talking a little too big?"
"You know how tough Old Six is. Last time, a Muay Thai champion came to challenge the dojo, and Old Six sent him straight to the ICU with a single shoulder check. If they really fight…"
She glanced at Kiana, who looked so slender she might snap in half at the fold, her eyes full of the practical worry any normal person would feel.
"How about you talk them down? At least tell Old Six to hold back a bit. If he lands one punch and injures Little Martial Ancestor, how are we supposed to explain that to Su Yu?"
Fu Hua said nothing.
She did not even blink. Behind her glasses, her eyes were locked tightly onto Kiana.
Talk them down?
How?
Was she supposed to tell the Little Martial Uncle—who was currently radiating the pressure of an apex predator—to "show mercy"?
Or tell that reckless husky of a disciple, who was practically yanking whiskers off a tiger's face, to "hurry up and kneel"?
Lin Zhaoyu could not feel it, but Fu Hua could.
That icy sensation—like being stared down by some predator at the top of the food chain—was slowly crawling up her spine.
In her senses, the thing standing in the middle of the practice hall was not some beautiful young girl.
It was a burning, violent… nuclear reactor powerful enough to flatten the entire dojo.
Fu Hua's hand, hidden in her sleeve, had already clenched into a fist.
She was calculating distance, angle, and timing—trying to determine whether, at the exact instant Kiana made her move, she could yank Ma Feima's idiotic self back from the gates of hell.
Even if he broke a few ribs, that would still be better than ending up as a human-shaped smear on the wall.
"Don't talk."
Fu Hua quietly cut off her eldest disciple's muttering.
"Watch."
In the arena—
The air seemed to have congealed into glue.
Looking at the girl before him, who barely came up to his chest, Ma Feima's first instinct was to laugh.
Three punches?
Send him flying?
It was as absurd as a chihuahua telling a Tibetan mastiff, "I'm going to bite you to death."
He, Ma Feima, had spent years in underground fighting circles. What kind of ruthless people had he not seen? With those skinny arms and legs—
But just before the mocking grin could spread across his face—
The ridiculous amusement jammed in his throat.
Because Kiana looked up.
There was no emotion in those blue eyes. No anger, no provocation, not even the sense that she was really "looking at him."
She was looking at a dead thing.
Or perhaps an obstacle that was about to be pulverized.
Boom—
It felt like thunder exploded inside Ma Feima's skull.
His instincts began screaming at him.
Every hair on his body stood on end. His heart felt as if an icy hand had clamped down on it, squeezing so hard he nearly forgot how to breathe.
The girl before him had changed.
No longer that somewhat spacey martial artist girl, but an ancient beast in the process of waking up.
The blood-soaked pressure rolling off her made him feel as though he had been dropped into a hellscape of corpses and slaughter.
He could not move…
Ma Feima realized in horror that his body was trembling.
That was fear.
The most primal kind of fear. The kind etched into genes. The terror prey felt when facing its natural predator.
Impossible! No way! She's just a little girl!
Years of pride and stubborn self-respect surged up at once, desperately trying to suppress that humiliating fear.
Ma Feima gritted his teeth so hard he bit through the tip of his tongue. Using that sharp pain, he forcibly drove his stiffened muscles into motion.
"Stop playing tricks!"
He let out a roar like a trapped beast, using the sound to bolster his courage.
"I'll show you right now—"
He slammed a foot forward, and the floor tile beneath him cracked into a spiderweb of fractures.
That massive fist tore through the air like a cannonball, driving straight for Kiana's face.
This punch contained one hundred and twenty percent of his strength.
Either he killed her, or he died from being scared to death by that unnatural aura.
Kiana did not move.
She only narrowed her eyes slightly, and her long legs beneath the training pants bent ever so faintly.
Like a heavy war bow drawn to its absolute limit.
And at that very instant—
Whoosh.
There was no sound of wind, no warning.
A black shadow slipped between the two of them like a ghost, slicing straight into the force field on the verge of exploding.
Then, a pale, slender hand—one that looked as though it had rarely seen sunlight—lightly came to rest on Ma Feima's iron fist, a fist that could have killed a bull.
Smack.
A soft sound.
Like swatting a mosquito.
Ma Feima's full-powered punch stopped in midair, utterly and unreasonably.
No matter how red his face turned, no matter how hard he strained, that fist was as motionless as if it had been cast into concrete.
"Old Six."
A hoarse voice, tinged with the rasp of someone who had not fully woken up yet, broke the dead silence in the hall.
"Back down."
The figure slowly turned her head, revealing a face that was bare of makeup and yet impossible to call anything but beautiful.
Her hair was a mess. She was still wearing those fluffy-looking winter pajamas, and she even had slippers on.
Cheng Lingshuang.
The Fifth Senior Sister who had been roleplaying as a corpse in the corner just moments ago.
She let go of his fist, then lifted her eyelids and swept Ma Feima with those perpetually half-open dead-fish eyes.
"Don't block the way."
Her tone was flat, but the words that came out made Ma Feima go cold all over.
"You'll die."
This was not a threat.
Nor was it an exaggeration.
It was simply the most objective physical statement a top-tier fighter could make after assessing the gap in strength between two people.
Ma Feima froze.
He looked at the Fifth Senior Sister in front of him—the one who normally could not even be bothered to roll over—and then looked at Kiana, who still stood there expressionless.
Cold sweat finally slid down his forehead, stinging his eyes as it dripped into them.
"F-Fifth Senior Sister?"
Cheng Lingshuang ignored him.
She turned around and, as if no one else in the room existed, walked straight toward Kiana.
With every step, that lazy aura peeled away from her, replaced by the feeling of a blade being drawn from its scabbard.
Sharp.
Pure.
Dazzlingly cold.
She stopped three paces away from Kiana, tilted her head, and for the first time, a spark of genuine interest ignited in her eyes.
"Taixu Sect. Cheng Lingshuang."
She raised one hand and took the simplest opening stance.
"Let me spar with her."
The air in the hall seemed to have been sucked dry, leaving behind only the sound of breathing.
Ma Feima had retreated.
This Sixth Senior Brother, who usually lived by the creed of life and death are trivial, if you disagree, let's fight, now looked like a fighting cock with its throat clamped shut.
The muscles in his face twitched several times, but in the end, he did not dare take another step forward.
He sullenly withdrew his stance, tossed a perfunctory cupped-fist salute in Fu Hua's direction, and silently retreated behind one of the pillars.
His mouth may not have admitted defeat, but his eyes—fixed rigidly on the center of the hall—were full of uncertainty.
That was the instinct of an animal sensing danger and seeking survival.
A moment ago, he had truly smelled death.
"Old Six actually… backed off?"
Lin Zhaoyu felt like her entire worldview was collapsing.
She looked at Ma Feima shrinking into the corner, then back at her Fifth Junior Sister in pajamas, her face cold and unreadable.
Th-this… was this really the same Cheng Lingshuang who could not be bothered to turn over even if the sky fell?
"Don't blink."
Su Yu's voice sounded at just the right moment, interrupting everyone's shock.
At some point, he had already opened that black suitcase, and his fingers were flying across the keyboard.
Bzzzz—
A few faint mechanical hums.
Under the stunned gaze of Fu Hua and her disciples, six metal hovering spheres glowing with a ghostly blue light slowly rose into the air. Like intelligent sprites with minds of their own, they swiftly claimed the six best observation points around the practice hall.
"W-What kind of magical artifact is that?!"
Lin Zhaoyu blurted out.
"Science."
Su Yu did not even lift his head. On the screen, two real-time skeletal models of the human body had already taken shape.
"This is to record Little Martial Ancestor's… spiritual essence. After all, at this level of combat, if you rely only on your eyes, you'll miss a lot of details."
He looked toward Kiana in the center of the hall and made an OK sign with his hand.
"Go ahead, Little Martial Ancestor. And remember… leave a bit more data on that martial niece of yours."
Kiana glanced at him, and the corner of her lips curved ever so slightly.
That mischievous Eldest Senior Brother.
"Come on."
She beckoned to Cheng Lingshuang with an easy, casual motion, like calling over a cat.
"Excuse me, then."
Cheng Lingshuang did not waste words.
The instant the sentence ended, she was gone.
Fast.
Unbelievably fast.
That bulky figure in the oversized pajamas left behind an afterimage.
There was no flashy opening form, no extra probing movements. She extended two fingers like a sword and stabbed directly for Kiana's throat.
Taixu Sword Qi — Form Aspect — Rain Swallow.
This move emphasized ultimate speed and unpredictability.
"So fast!"
Ma Feima's pupils contracted sharply.
If it had been him facing that move, he doubted he could have done more than take it head-on.
And yet—
Kiana did not move.
Not until the very last instant, when those fingers were about to touch her skin.
Only then did she casually raise a hand, as if brushing away a fly.
Smack.
A sharp sound rang out.
Cheng Lingshuang's lethal strike was lightly deflected by the back of Kiana's hand, as though it had run into an invisible wall, sent completely off-course.
Then Kiana took half a step forward.
Just half a step.
But it landed precisely at the moment when Cheng Lingshuang's old force was spent and her new force had not yet been born.
"Too slow."
Kiana's voice sounded by Cheng Lingshuang's ear.
And the next second, the world flipped upside down.
No complicated technique.
Kiana simply dropped her shoulder and rammed forward.
The force that exploded out in that instant made Cheng Lingshuang feel as though she had collided with a high-speed train.
Bang!
The two figures met and separated in a flash.
Cheng Lingshuang staggered back seven or eight steps, each step leaving a shallow footprint in the stone flooring, before she barely managed to steady herself.
An unnatural flush spread across her pale face, but the dead-fish eyes now shone with a brilliance no one had ever seen before.
"Again!"
She shouted and charged once more.
This time, she held nothing back.
Taixu Sword Qi, Cunjin Fist… all the techniques she usually complained were too troublesome now poured out of her in a continuous stream.
And Kiana—
Kiana was like a leaf in the middle of a raging storm.
She advanced instead of retreating.
In this world without Honkai energy, she could not use the Herrscher of the Void's authority, nor could she summon Subspace Lances.
But that only brought her back to the most fundamental feeling.
Kaslana gun-fighting techniques, Valkyrie redirection methods, even all those street-fighting tricks Siegfried had taught her…
Everything had fused perfectly together inside that body forged through endless tempering.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The sound of fists and feet colliding came like a dense drumbeat, making everyone's hearts tremble.
Su Yu stared at the computer screen, fingers moving frantically as he captured every precious frame.
Too strong…
So this was Kiana's real power?
The streams of data on the screen moved so fast they were almost dizzying.
Every one of Kiana's movements was precise, efficient, and lethal.
There was no wasted motion. Every strike was intended to end the fight—and yet, at the final instant, she always reined the force in with perfect control.
Was this… feeding moves?
No.
This was dimensionality-reduction teaching.
The people watching had all gone completely dumb.
Fu Hua's hand, halfway through pushing up her glasses, froze in midair. Her mouth was slightly open.
She could tell Kiana's techniques carried a foundation of Taixu Sword Qi, but they were also completely different.
That way of generating force, that level of bodily control…
It was breathtaking.
And Ma Feima—by now, his back was drenched.
Watching the girl in the middle of the hall suppress Cheng Lingshuang from start to finish while calmly throwing in comments like "that angle is wrong," he felt his throat go dry.
If the person who had stepped out there earlier had been him…
Forget three punches.
She probably would have had to kneel down after the first one and beg him not to die.
"Hah…"
In the center of the hall, Cheng Lingshuang's movements finally began to slow.
She was soaked in sweat. Her pajamas clung to her body, and her breathing sounded like a set of overworked bellows.
By contrast, Kiana's breathing had not even gone out of rhythm, and her high ponytail was barely even messy.
"I'm done."
Cheng Lingshuang suddenly stopped and dropped onto the floor without the slightest concern for appearances, gasping for air.
"I can't win. We're not even in the same tier."
She looked up at Kiana, who was still not even flushed, and her eyes showed not the slightest frustration.
Only bright, shining admiration.
"Little Martial Ancestor… you're incredible."
Kiana withdrew her stance and adjusted her slightly rumpled collar.
"You're not bad either."
She looked at Cheng Lingshuang and gave a fair, honest evaluation.
"In this world, not many people can force me to use both hands."
Under normal circumstances, that line would have sounded unbearably arrogant.
But no one present felt she was showing off.
Because she really was just that absurdly good.
"My thanks."
Cheng Lingshuang climbed back to her feet and gave a proper junior's salute.
"Little Martial Ancestor, I have learned much!"
That "Little Martial Ancestor" came from the heart.
The moment the fight ended, that suffocating pressure in the room vanished completely.
It was as though Kiana had just finished some assigned task, and all the masterly bearing collapsed at once.
She jogged back to Su Yu in three quick steps, her eyes sparkling as she stared at the computer screen.
"How was it, how was it? Su Yu, was that spinning kick just now super cool? Did you record it?"
She leaned in beside him, pointing at the 3D replay model on the screen, her tone filled with naked anticipation for praise.
"Cool? It was insanely cool."
Su Yu handed her the bottle of iced cola he had prepared long ago.
"You worked hard, Little Martial Ancestor."
"Hehe."
Kiana took the cola and tilted her head back for a long gulp, letting out a deeply satisfied sigh.
Watching the two interact as if no one else existed, Su Mei withdrew her gaze, amusement curling at the corner of her mouth.
Then she turned to look at Ma Feima, who was hiding behind the pillar, his face alternating between green and white.
"Oh, Old Six."
Su Mei's voice was not loud, but it carried clearly enough for everyone present to hear.
"Wasn't it you who said you wanted to spar with Little Martial Ancestor just now? The opportunity's perfect. She's only just finished warming up. Why don't you go fill in next?"
Ma Feima: "…"
He looked at Kiana, who was over there drinking cola, then at Cheng Lingshuang, who was soaked in sweat and looked like she had just been fished out of water.
Silently, he shrank another step farther behind the pillar.
"Um… Second Senior Sister."
The one-point-nine-meter-tall brute managed to force out a smile uglier than crying.
"I just suddenly remembered… I think the toilet in the dojo is clogged. I'll go fix it. Be right back!"
And before anyone could react, this "Invincible Iron Fist" of a Sixth Senior Brother bolted off like a startled rabbit, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
What he left behind in the hall was an awkward silence that was, somehow, still perfectly polite.
Along with Su Yu's deeply meaningful sigh:
"Looks like Sixth Senior Brother isn't just good with his fists. His drain-clearing skills must be second to none as well."
....
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