Lan Guang was Lan Ke’s own younger brother, and also the mini-boss Yan Zhen planned to take down this time.
In this Monthly Assessment, the two of them would end up with the same score.
To fight for first place, they would need an extra one-on-one duel.
Thanks to his connection with Lan Ke, Lan Guang had long since taken a dislike to Yan Zhen. During their matchup, he planned to go all out.
As if sensing Yan Zhen’s gaze, Lan Guang flashed him a thumbs-up—only to flip it downward.
Yan Zhen remained utterly unmoved by such childish provocation. After all, tomorrow he would make it clear who the real boss was.
As for the likes of Xiao Shi, they were nothing more than clowns, not even worthy of being proper villains.
By the end of the tests, Yan Zhen had become the only student in the entire Intermediate Class to receive a Top-Tier evaluation.
The morning tests concluded, and Yan Meng’er came looking for them. The four of them headed together to Mentor Yu Xuan’s private office.
Today, Mentor Yu Xuan had specially brought food to reward her students. As her disciples, they always enjoyed this little perk after every Monthly Assessment.
When they arrived, they found Xiao Xinyan already there. She huffed upon seeing the group and shot Yan Zhen a particularly sharp glare.
Yan Zhen thought to himself, What are you glaring at? After this Monthly Assessment, Xiao Shi’s going to drug you. Then I’ll have to waste a pill to save you—not that that’s bad enough. On top of it, you’ll end up spraying me with water.
What a lowly sow!
Xiao Xinyan sensed the contempt in Yan Zhen’s eyes and flew into a rage, but with Mentor Yu Xuan present, she didn’t dare make a scene. Instead, she simply averted her gaze.
“The Mystic Technique test is this afternoon, everyone. Do your best and give it all you’ve got!”
Mentor Yu Xuan encouraged her students with gentle words.
Xiao Xinyan immediately chimed in with some flattering remarks. She might have her issues with Yan Zhen and the others, but she held Mentor Yu Xuan in the highest regard.
As expected, the Intermediate Class’s Mystic Technique test was on the Air Breaking Seal.
Targets stood at distances from one to five meters on the testing ground. Students executed the Air Breaking Seal, earning higher scores the farther they hit, with bonus points for bullseyes.
Breaking the air with Mystic Power was a feat for Mystic Masters. For mere Mystic Practitioners to land the Air Breaking Seal on distant targets required sufficient Mystic Power intensity as well as precise control.
Insufficient intensity, and the Air Breaking Seal would dissipate midway.
Poor control, and it would veer off course.
Having cultivated the Emperor Flame Technique and the Ancestral Symbol Scripture, Yan Zhen’s Mystic Power intensity and control both surpassed the Mystic Practitioner level. With a casual palm strike, he nailed the bullseye on the five-meter target, securing full marks.
Soon, it was Lan Guang’s turn. After building up his power, he unleashed a palm strike that also hit the five-meter bullseye, claiming full marks—followed by yet another provocation aimed at Yan Zhen.
Yan Zhen could only give him a look of utter exasperation.
From nearby, Mi Xue’er snorted.
“That guy’s so annoying!”
Yan Ruyu knew she was the reason Lan Guang bore a grudge against Yan Zhen. She said apologetically, “Sorry for getting you in trouble, Yan Zhen…”
Yan Zhen waved it off, signaling her not to worry.
Later on, he’d have to play the role of Mi Xue’er’s fake boyfriend and stir up public outrage anyway.
Even his first conflict after arriving at Holy Land Academy had been over Mentor Yu Xuan.
Why did a no-female-lead power fantasy feature so many women? To draw aggro for the protagonist, of course.
The day’s tests wrapped up, and the group returned to their residence. After devouring takeout from a restaurant, they bathed and rested. Mentor Yu Xuan had instructed them to conserve their energy and aim for high scores in the practical combat test.
For top students, the theory, cultivation, and Mystic Technique tests were all straightforward. Scores tended to cluster closely together, with few pulling far ahead. Only the practical test truly separated the pack.
The next day, after breakfast, the group arrived at Mystic Academy’s martial arena.
As the supervising mentor announced the start of the practical combat test, Yan Zhen finally laid eyes on a Combat Puppet.
It stood about two meters tall, pitch-black all over, with red dots painted on its heart and forehead. It wielded a large shield and a long spear.
The spear was wooden with a blunted tip—dull, yes, but few could rise again after being struck by it.
A layer of blue Mystic Power membrane coated the shield’s surface. Breaking it meant victory.
Alternatively, landing attacks on the puppet’s red vital points would also halt it, securing a win.
To defeat a Combat Puppet, one either shattered the shield head-on or used agile footwork for a surprise assault.
The former tested raw power; the latter prized speed.
A Combat Puppet’s shield was as tough as a Mystic Scholar’s protective Mystic Power. Shattering it demanded focused strikes over multiple hits.
Thus, most students opted to circle and strike from odd angles. Only the heaviest, most brutish types charged straight in.
Yan Ruyu and Mi Xue’er took the stage one after another, each defeating their puppet in around three minutes to earn an “Excellent” rating.
This surprised Yan Zhen. According to the script, they should have gotten a “Good,” taking over five minutes to win.
Most students needed about ten minutes to prevail. Some even took a spear to the gut, vomiting bile and unable to continue—zero points for them.
When Yan Zhen’s turn came, he felt numerous gazes converge on him.
The previous day’s tests had measured only fundamentals. High scores there meant solid basics, but whether they translated to real combat was another matter.
Some with weak fundamentals boasted natural combat talent.
Others had rock-solid basics but fell apart in a real fight.
Yan Zhen faced the Combat Puppet squarely on stage. Its massive frame brought a subtle pressure that no written description could convey. His Mystic Power stirred like a provoked beast, rising slowly to coat his body in faint flame-light—like the protective Mystic Power of a Mystic Scholar.
“Student Yan Zhen, are you ready?” the supervising mentor asked.
“Ready whenever you are,” Yan Zhen replied.
The mentor activated the puppet and stepped off the arena, leaving it to Yan Zhen.
Red light gleamed in the Combat Puppet’s pitch-black eyes. Its joints creaked as its ball-like shoulder rose. Its thick arm thrust the blunted spear straight at Yan Zhen—clumsy in appearance, yet swift as the wind.
Yan Zhen stood motionless. For someone who had awakened spiritual power, this speed was turtle-slow, and its straightforward attack pattern made dodging child’s play.
But he had no need to dodge.
As the spear closed in, several female students clutched their hearts in suspense—only to watch in astonishment as the two-meter-tall, ten-thousand-catty Combat Puppet suddenly launched into the air. It flipped stiffly midair before crashing heavily onto the arena floor.
Boom!
Under the force of Shock Vigor, the shield slammed the ground, its light membrane shattering instantly. The Combat Puppet ground to a halt.
The tremendous crash and tremor blanched the faces of the watching students. Seeing Yan Zhen clutching the spear with both hands, they instantly grasped what he had done and gaped in stunned silence.
Even the supervising mentor was dumbfounded.
In all his years overseeing practical tests, he had seen super-brutes punch through shields and speed-demons strike vitals in one hit—but never anyone who simply grabbed a Combat Puppet’s thrusting spear and flung the damn thing, smashing its own shield in the process.
A Combat Puppet’s spear thrust could disable a Five-Star Mystic Practitioner, yet Yan Zhen had caught it effortlessly and followed with a flawless over-the-shoulder throw. The motions were so fluid, as if the hulking puppet were nothing more than a lightweight rag doll. How on earth had he pulled that off?
