Chapter Thirty-Eight: Kneel and Sing Surrender! (Please bookmark and recommend)

Zhou Yiyi struck first, her longsword thrusting straight toward Yang Fan. Yang Fan took two steps back, his saber flashing from its sheath to deflect the incoming blade. The saber twisted horizontally, angling upward in a slashing arc. Zhou Yiyi gripped her sword with both hands, tracing a half-circle to block the saber’s edge.

Her sword spun and entwined, following the saber’s motion—her winding sword technique on full display. Yang Fan felt a growing frustration. The saber’s strength lay in sweeping, open attacks, much like the Pole-Star Spear, favoring overwhelming force and momentum. But faced with Zhou Yiyi’s winding sword, he found his power stifled, unable to break through.

Their cultivation levels were evenly matched, and their physical strength was not far off. Overpowering her wasn’t an option. As her sword wound around his saber, Yang Fan’s rhythm was gradually dictated by Zhou Yiyi.

He grew anxious. This couldn’t go on—if he let himself fall completely into her tempo, defeat was certain. Until today, Yang Fan had never expected to meet a true rival among the freshmen; even with the likes of Mu Qingshan and Xie Sihua, he hadn’t paid them much mind. From the moment he first exchanged blows with them, he’d known they weren’t his equal. Xie Sihua may have fought him to a draw, both ending up bruised and battered, but that was only because Yang Fan hadn’t intended to seriously hurt him. In the end, Yang Fan had lost his temper and simply pummelled him, abandoning any defense.

But Zhou Yiyi was different. Her winding sword disrupted his combat rhythm. If he attacked, her sword would follow and block every move; if he retreated, things would be even worse. The moment he tried to withdraw his saber, the sword—seemingly weak and harmless—would lunge like a viper, striking with deadly precision. Receiving a blow from a peer while off-balance, Yang Fan doubted he’d be able to withstand it.

As Yang Fan racked his brain for a solution, Zhou Yiyi decided it was time to end this. She had thought Yang Fan formidable, but it turned out he was only strong. Last night, watching him brawl with Xie Sihua, she’d even felt a hint of inadequacy. Now, she realized how laughable that was.

With a sudden burst of strength, her sword, locked with his saber, drove forward. Metal clashed, and with a calculated force, she knocked the saber aside. Yang Fan felt the surge of power too late. His saber’s trajectory was disrupted, swinging wide, and he felt utterly exposed, as if stripped bare. With his defenses wide open, Zhou Yiyi’s sword shot forward like a striking serpent.

The blade’s path was clear as day—aimed straight at his chest and abdomen. Yang Fan’s skin prickled with goosebumps. In a split second, he relaxed his entire body, dropped to one knee, and jerked his head aside. Zhou Yiyi’s sword grazed past his ear, shearing off a lock of hair.

Cold sweat broke out all over Yang Fan. Zhou Yiyi, seeing her strike miss, pressed her advantage—her sword angled sharply downward, about to cleave into Yang Fan’s shoulder.

But Yang Fan’s saber, though knocked aside, appeared once more. The clash rang out—steel against steel. Yang Fan was driven lower, now kneeling on the ground, unable to muster strength. True power began at the feet, flowed through the waist, and reached the hands; now, with his posture compromised, he could only barely block Zhou Yiyi’s sword. Even so, veins bulged on his forehead from the effort.

“Heh, so this is your threat to beat me up? Yang Fan, I overestimated you!” Zhou Yiyi’s spirits soared as she saw Yang Fan suppressed at last. This scoundrel had dared to boast earlier—now, all he could do was talk big! Zhou Yiyi had always harbored a peculiar irritation toward Yang Fan, perhaps from being slighted at the airport, perhaps from the blow to her pride by his cultivation. It wasn’t quite anger, but he certainly annoyed her!

Now, with victory in sight, she felt a rush of satisfaction. “Come on then, kneel and sing ‘Conquered’ for me!”

Yang Fan’s face fell at her words. Who among the young doesn’t care about victory and defeat? To be so quickly humiliated after boasting—how could he stand it? He couldn’t. Yang Fan was already preparing to use his lightning ability. He had no other choice—he’d fallen into her rhythm and been suppressed unexpectedly. If he lost now, he couldn’t imagine the scorn she would heap upon him.

Pride can be such a foolish thing; for the sake of face, people will risk anything. Yang Fan gathered his strength, pushing Zhou Yiyi’s sword up with his saber, then suddenly lunged forward.

Zhou Yiyi was stunned. What was he doing? Was kneeling not enough—did he mean to kowtow as well? But as Yang Fan’s forehead touched the top of her foot, she realized how absurd her thoughts were.

…

The referee watched Zhou Yiyi collapse to the ground, momentarily at a loss. On the second floor, Zhou Haifeng was about to explode with rage. Xiao Minghe had to restrain him, or he would have rushed down to tear Yang Fan apart the instant Zhou Yiyi fell.

This brat was outrageous—he’d actually electrocuted his daughter! Wait—electrocuted? Where had the electricity come from?

Regaining his composure, Zhou Haifeng stopped struggling, and Xiao Minghe released him. Zhang Weiguo, face grim, looked down and said, “This boy really is full of surprises. A lightning ability—he’s an Awakened, and not just any, but one with high-explosive power. Now I understand how that second-tier Dark Realm master ended up failing so miserably.”

Xiao Minghe nodded. “I was puzzled, too. We know most of his capabilities—his combat techniques were only at moderate proficiency. Against sheer force, how did he manage a reversal? I figured he had some secret, but didn’t press. Now it’s clear. But he didn’t show any sign of the Awakened constitution when he was tested.”

Zhou Haifeng, now calm, replied, “Nothing is impossible. Ouyang Yunlei didn’t test positive for the Awakened trait either, yet she awakened a light ability. It happens. Still, this brat electrocuted my daughter—this isn’t over!”

He looked down at his daughter, heart aching at her singed face and frazzled hair. Then his gaze fixed on Yang Fan, brimming with murderous intent.

Yang Fan himself was dazed. The lightning had grown stronger again. He hadn’t meant to shock Zhou Yiyi so severely—he’d only wanted to make her twitch a little. But as his forehead touched her foot, the lightning surged, and Zhou Yiyi fell instantly unconscious.

The referee regained his senses and, after announcing the result, Zhou Haifeng dashed down, scooped up Zhou Yiyi, glared at Yang Fan, and rushed her to the infirmary. For injuries caused by abilities, only powers themselves could best heal.

The arena erupted in gasps and exclamations. While few had eaten pork, everyone had seen a pig run—if not, at least they’d heard one grunt. It was obvious to all that Yang Fan had been suppressed by Zhou Yiyi, only for the match to turn in an instant. Lightning flashed from Yang Fan’s body, Zhou Yiyi’s hair exploded, and her body convulsed as she collapsed—all clear signs that Yang Fan was an Awakened, and with lightning at that.

Everyone had seen Yang Fan perform well in recent matches, but none had known about his lightning ability. Tan Hao was stunned atop the platform; he’d never imagined Yang Fan had such a trump card. Xie Sihua was thrown into turmoil—he’d awakened, who could have guessed? Mu Qingshan’s face turned ghostly pale. He’d been plotting his own revenge, hoping to one day humiliate Yang Fan as he’d once been, but before he’d even begun, Yang Fan’s lightning power had snuffed out any hope.

The whole arena was in an uproar. Zhang Weiguo descended from the second floor, quieted the students, and took Yang Fan upstairs. Entering the room, Yang Fan found Xiao Minghe lounging comfortably, eyes fixed on him, making Yang Fan feel thoroughly exposed and uneasy.

Zhang Weiguo said nothing, simply sitting beside Xiao Minghe and staring at Yang Fan as well. Yang Fan’s anxiety mounted. Would this cause serious trouble? He regretted acting on impulse; he’d intended to keep his lightning ability secret. After all, it hadn’t awakened naturally, but had been granted by consuming a fruit won from the system’s lottery. He didn’t know if these influential figures could see through him, but his unease only grew.

For the first time, Yang Fan understood the consequences of reckless actions. It was deeply uncomfortable, being scrutinized in silence by two formidable elders.

At length, Xiao Minghe finally spoke. “When did you awaken your lightning ability?”

Yang Fan, after a moment’s adjustment, reflexively replied, “The day before I came to the city.”

He regretted the answer as soon as he’d spoken. He could have said he awakened during a fight with the Dark Realm, which would have sounded more convincing. He’d once asked Ouyang Yunlei what conditions led to awakening. She’d told him that most people awakened after a major shock; a few would awaken after a night’s sleep, but those were rare. During the initial spiritual resurgence, most Awakened were those long oppressed, finally pushed to their limits.

But the words were out, and there was no taking them back. Yang Fan could only grit his teeth and accept the consequences.