If the first time could still be chalked up to coincidence, then being thrown twice in a row was clearly no simple fluke. The other children's gazes toward
A deep, guttural growl—one that had no business coming from a child's throat—erupted from
Martial Soul. He'd used the power of his Martial Soul. That thought flashed through Tang San's mind like a bolt of lightning.
But so what if it was a Martial Soul?
Watching Wang Sheng's hands lunge toward his shoulders, Tang San raised his own hands just the same, fingers hooked into claw shapes, meeting Wang Sheng head-on. The tips of both feet angled inward, knees slightly bent, settling into the standard Horse Stance of
Four hands met. If the earlier exchanges had been about technique, then this had become a contest of raw strength. Two pairs of hands—one large, one small—had locked together.
Wang Sheng had clearly been provoked to fury by Tang San. A ferocious glint crossed his face. He was now channeling the power of his Martial Soul, the War Tiger. Though he knew he couldn't truly hurt Tang San, he was at least going to use his strength to force this little brat who'd humiliated him to the ground.
The tiger claws tightened. Wang Sheng had every reason to believe that with his strength ranking among the top five of all students, overwhelming this kid in front of him should be effortless.
But was that really the case?
Tang San might have been small and thin, but he swung a forging hammer nearly a thousand times every day. How could his strength be ordinary?
At the very moment Wang Sheng exerted his force, he clearly felt those hands—visibly several sizes smaller than his own—were as hard as steel. In nearly an instant, Tang San had seized an overwhelming advantage in strength. Tang San's thumbs pressed down simultaneously, and Wang Sheng felt his web between thumb and forefinger go numb, his Soul Power completely suppressed by his opponent. Immediately after, Tang San pulled him forward and leaped backward while still gripping his hands.
Wang Sheng had been lunging down from midair, and Tang San's sudden backward leap yanked him off balance. He watched Tang San's knee swelling larger and larger in his field of vision, and his heart screamed in alarm.
Tang San's knee was aimed straight at his nose. Wang Sheng knew that even setting aside Tang San's own strength, his body weight alone crashing down like that would likely shatter his nasal bone. In that split second, a flicker of regret crept into his heart.
But just as the blow was about to land, Tang San's hands suddenly let go. Having seized the advantage in strength, he could withdraw at will. At the same time, his bent right knee swerved aside, and his right instep snapped up to kick Wang Sheng square in the chest.
It was a snap kick—not a long travel, but the explosive force at the point of impact was absolutely formidable. Even though Tang San converted much of the kicking force into a push rather than a strike, the result was no less devastating.
The students in the dormitory watched helplessly as Wang Sheng's body executed a flawless backflip in midair—completely beyond his control—before slamming face-down onto the floor with a resounding thud.
Although the
This time, Wang Sheng took a hard fall. It took him quite a struggle to push himself up from the ground, and the look in his eyes as he stared at Tang San had become a mix of shock and fury. In the end, he was still just a twelve-year-old child. When facing someone stronger, fear would always outweigh impulse.
Tang San picked up his school uniform. "Can you move aside now?"
Watching Tang San walk toward him, Wang Sheng instinctively stepped out of the path. Tang San found a bed not far from the door and placed his uniform on it.
"Xiao—oh, no, Tang San, was that a Soul Skill you just used?" Wang Sheng ventured cautiously.
"A Soul Skill?" This was not the first time Tang San had heard the term. "What's a Soul Skill?"
Wang Sheng scratched his head. "It's a technique that uses your Martial Soul. But… is your Martial Soul really
Tang San raised his right hand. A faint blue glow welled up from his palm, and he let his actions speak to the students in the dormitory—he hadn't been lying.
Hearing the words "Soul Skill," the other students, despite their wariness of Tang San's strength, crowded around. "Was that really a Soul Skill? That's incredible—even Big Brother Wang Sheng couldn't beat it."
Tang San shook his head. "That wasn't a Soul Skill. It's just a combat technique. Don't we have any bedding here?"
A student only slightly older than Tang San looked downcast. "We're only Work-study Students. Our tuition was already waived—where would we get bedding? These things we have, we all brought from home. Here, you can use mine for now."
Tang San waved him off. "No need, thank you. I'll figure something out."
Wang Sheng walked up to Tang San. "Why did you hold back just now?" He'd been studying at Nuoding Elementary Soul Master Academy for five years. If he couldn't tell that Tang San had shifted his knee to a kick specifically to avoid seriously injuring him, those years would have been wasted.
Tang San replied calmly, "We're classmates, not enemies."
A complicated light flickered through Wang Sheng's eyes. "I'm sorry about earlier. Every Work-study Student who comes here has to go through this. We Work-study Students are already looked down upon by the other students, so we have to stick together. I just wanted the new guy to be part of our group…"
Tang San smiled faintly. "So that meant you had to scare me straight first?"
Wang Sheng's cheeks reddened, and a sheepish grin spread across his face. "If anything, you're the one who scared me straight. But you really are something. You just turned six, didn't you?"
Tang San nodded.