The mid-day heat over the First-Year Training Grounds of the Imperial Grand Martial College was suffocating. Heavy gravity arrays etched into the black stone plaza tripled the weight of every breath, forcing sweat to pour from the three hundred new scholars like rain.
"Pivots! Keep your stances locked!" the head instructor, an elite Late-Stage Martial Scholar named Instructor Vane, barked as he paced between the rows. "Without a physical vessel capable of holding pressure, your Spirit Veins will rupture the moment you attempt higher-tier techniques!"
While most noble students were groaning, their knees buckling under the intense gravity, Ethan and Elena moved with terrifying, rhythmic ease.
Thanks to the Nine-Bones Iron Dragon Method drilled into them by Gabriel, their physical bone density and muscular strength easily absorbed the artificial weight. Every punch Ethan threw cut through the dense air with a sharp, whip-like crack, and every shift of Elena’s boots left flawless, unshakeable footprints on the stone.
"Look at those two..." a noble youth from a second-tier merchant family muttered, wiping sweat from his bloodshot eyes. "They haven't even drawn a single thread of internal Qi, but their physical frame isn't even shaking!"
"Are their bones made of dark iron?" another student whispered in awe. "I thought they were slum commoners!"
Two rows ahead, Garron Valerius gritted his teeth so hard his gums bled. His fine silk training tunic was soaked through, his legs trembling as he struggled to complete his eight-thousandth rep. Seeing Ethan and Elena looking completely untired—as if taking a casual stroll—stung his arrogant noble pride like liquid fire.
Commoner trash... Garron cursed inwardly, his eyes narrowing into venomous slits. You think you can outshine House Valerius in front of the entire academy?
"Halt!" Instructor Vane barked, raising his hand.
The heavy gravity array deactivated with a hum, and two hundred students instantly collapsed onto the stone floor, gasping frantically for air. Only Ethan, Elena, and a handful of top-tier noble heirs remained standing straight.
"Take twenty minutes to rest," Instructor Vane ordered, his sharp eyes lingering approvingly over the twins for a second before he turned toward the faculty pavilion. "We resume with weapon sparring after the break."
The moment the instructor walked out of sight, Garron Valerius straightened up, wiping his face with a silk cloth. A sinister, cruel smirk crossed his lips as he signaled to four of his loyal noble lackeys.
Garron walked deliberately toward Ethan and Elena, stopping ten feet away.
"You move decently for slum rats," Garron sneered, crossing his arms. "But raw physical labor is all commoners are good for anyway. When it comes to real combat, physical endurance means nothing without high-tier ancestral equipment."
Ethan didn't even bother looking up from his water canteen. "If you came over here just to bark again, save your breath, Garron. You're bleeding through your tunic."
A few nearby neutral students let out quiet giggles.
Garron’s face flushed with sudden humiliation and rage. "You arrogant little bastard! You think having an S-Rank token makes you untouchable?!"
Garron reached into his spatial pouch and pulled out a heavy, crimson wooden box. He snapped the latch open, revealing two gleaming, silver-plated armguards inlaid with fiery red spirit gems—Grade-3 Flame-Tiger Bracers.
"These are Grade-3 heirloom bracers from House Valerius," Garron declared proudly, holding them up so the entire training field could see. "In ten minutes, the weapon sparring begins. I challenge you, Ethan Sterling, to a duel on the central ring! No Qi—just physical weapons! If you lose, you hand over your S-Rank token and bow down as my personal foot servant!"
Elena stepped forward, her hand resting on her sword hilt, her eyes cold as ice. "And if you lose?"
Garron laughed mockingly. "Lose? To a commoner who doesn't even own proper armor? If I lose, I will hand over these Grade-3 bracers and stay ten feet away from you for the rest of the term!"
Ethan slowly capped his canteen and stood up. His dark navy coat settled smoothly over his shoulders as he looked Garron dead in the eye.
"A pair of Grade-3 bracers?" Ethan said, his voice flat and unimpressed. "Fine. I'll take them."
Ten minutes later, the central sparring ring was surrounded by over three hundred cheering students.
News of an S-Rank commoner scholar dueling a direct genius of House Valerius had spread quickly, even drawing several senior teachers to the balcony above.
Instructor Vane stood at the edge of the ring, frowning slightly. "This is a voluntary physical duel. No lethal Qi strikes allowed. First to disarm or knock the opponent out of the ring wins. Begin!"
CLANG!
The moment the command was given, Garron didn't wait. He drew two heavy iron broadswords, his physical strength surging into his arms as the Grade-3 bracers on his foreheads glowed with an intense heat, granting him immense physical impact power.
"Die, rat!" Garron roared, leaping forward like a ravenous beast, his broadswords descending in a ruthless, sweeping cross-cut aimed directly at Ethan's neck!
Ethan didn't even draw his spear blade.
He kept his adaptive weapon completely wrapped in plain linen cloth, holding the center of the wooden shaft with one hand.
STEP.
Ethan shifted his feet according to the Nine-Bones Iron Dragon Method. His body blurred backward by a fraction of an inch, the two whistling broadswords slicing through empty air mere millimeters from his chest!
"What?!" Garron gasped, his momentum overcommitting.
Before Garron could recover his guard, Ethan spun on his heel, his gold-tempered physical strength flowing from his core, through his shoulder, and straight into his elbow!
BANG!
Ethan didn't use his spear. He delivered a brutal, physical elbow strike straight into Garron’s armored jaw!
CRACK!
Sparks and blood flew through the air! Garron’s head snapped back violently, his teeth shattering as the sheer impact power tore through his helmet, sending him spinning through the air like a broken ragdoll!
THUD—CRASH!
Garron slammed heavily onto the stone floor twenty feet outside the ring, tumbling three times before coming to a stop at the feet of his paralyzed lackeys. He lay there unconscious, his jaw grotesquely dislocated, blood pooling beneath his face.
The entire training plaza went dead silent.
One move.
No Qi. No drawn weapon. Just a single, devastating physical strike that had knocked out a direct genius of House Valerius wearing Grade-3 armor!
Ethan calmly walked over to the edge of the ring, picked up the crimson wooden box containing the Grade-3 Flame-Tiger Bracers from Garron’s unconscious hands, and tossed it casually to Elena.
"Next time you make a bet," Ethan said coldly, looking down at Garron’s limp body, "bring something worth my time."
Instructor Vane stared at Ethan in absolute shock, his mouth slightly open before he cleared his throat and announced loudly:
"Winner... Ethan Sterling!"
Meanwhile, hovering miles above the clouds directly over the college...
Inside the serene, floating courtyard of the Floating Cloud Island, Gabriel sat at a white marble table, watching the entire fight through a glowing spatial mirror.
Beside him, Malakor bowed respectfully, holding a silver tray with a fresh cup of spirit tea.
"Young Master Ethan’s physical control has reached the Iron Dragon stage," Malakor reported smoothly. "His bone density alone easily countered the Grade-3 armor's force."
Gabriel took a quiet sip of his tea, a warm, proud smile gracing his face.
BZ—T!
The crystal bell chimed clearly in Gabriel’s mind.
[Ding!]
[Offspring (Ethan) has successfully won a high-stakes duel and claimed a prize (Grade-3 Flame-Tiger Bracers)!]
[Host’s Guidance & Spoiling Principle Triggered!]
[Triggering 500x Critical Return!]
[Host receives: Grade-5 Immortal Artifact — 'Flame-Dragon Sovereign Gauntlets'!]
(Grants user absolute immunity to fire elemental damage and multiplies unarmed impact force by 10x).
[Host receives: 50,000 High-Grade Spirit Stones!]
Gabriel felt the heavy, glowing gauntlets settle into his System inventory. Another 500x return just from Ethan winning a petty bet.
Gabriel closed the spatial mirror, his dark eyes turning toward the distant spires of the Inner City administrative sector.
"Malakor," Gabriel commanded smoothly.
"I am here, Clan Master."
"House Valerius will not swallow this humiliation easily. Garron’s father is an elder in the Inner City Military Council. Keep an eye on their movements... and if they attempt any dirty tricks during the upcoming College Dungeon Practice, let me know immediately."
"By your command, Clan Master," Malakor bowed, dissolving seamlessly back into the shadows.
Gabriel looked out over the sea of clouds, his hand gently resting on the marble railing.
The college was just a playground for his children to grow. But if any noble house thought they could use their institutional power to bully his kids, Gabriel was more than ready to tear their entire hierarchy apart.