Venerate Ego

Ziyang sprinted west through the cracked stone pathways of Tianlan Academy. The sharp scent of scorched wood and broken brick grew stronger with every step. His body moved effortlessly, fast and precise. Wind pushed against his skin like rushing water.

"Damn," he muttered, feet pounding. "This body flies."

Ahead, the western plaza came into view. Once a quiet training yard, now torn apart. Craters pockmarked the tiled ground. Pavilion pillars lay split and crumbling. Smoke curled up from shattered lanterns. Guards lay scattered across the courtyard, some groaning and some motionless.

A group of masked figures stood in a loose circle, blades glinting under torchlight.

[6 D-Rank Assassins Detected]

"D-Rank?", Ziyang said, slowing to a stop just outside the rubble. "Infiltrating a prestigious academy with merely D-Rank assassins seems stupid, no? Anyway, let's get right into it."

He launched forward, slamming his heel into the first assassin's ribs. The masked man flew back, hit the ground hard, and didn't get up.

The remaining five shifted stances, blades out. One lunged, Ziyang ducked, twisted, and drove his elbow into the assassin's gut. He seized the man's wrist and flipped him clean over his shoulder. Years of sparring back on Earth fed into instinct now. Angles, leverage and openings became clear.

Another attacker came from behind. Ziyang pivoted just in time, catching the edge of the dagger across his shoulder. He winced but stepped into the strike, grabbing the assassin's arm and slamming his knee into the man's thigh until something cracked. The man dropped.

[Three Remaining.]

"Yeah, I can see that." Ziyang breathed hard, circling the last three.

Two of the assassins charged at once. Ziyang slid under one's sweeping blade and kicked the other's ankle mid-swing, collapsing him onto his partner. He grabbed a broken staff from the rubble and swung it into their ribs, sharp and brutal. Bones crunched. Both crumpled.

The last one hesitated. Ziyang stared him down, twirling the staff with one hand.

"You sure you're in the right profession?" he asked.

The assassin lunged, but Ziyang stepped aside with a clean sidestep and drove the blunt end of the staff into his sternum. He dropped.

Ziyang stood still, chest heaving, eyes scanning the courtyard. All six were down. His shirt clung to his back. Blood ran in a thin line down his shoulder.

[Task Completion: 6 of 6 D-Rank hostiles neutralized. Move further.]

Ziyang held the staff tightly, and started running again, breath fogging in the night air.

Meanwhile, Lu Zhenyu kept heading towards the west at a fast pace.

Yansheng moved with deliberate slowness, each footstep followed by a low, guttural breath. He unleashed another deafening scream, and the vibrations tore through a stone pillar, shattering it into chunks. Rubble spilled across the ground as his echo faded into the night.

Ziyang arrived at the edge of the plaza, breath tight in his chest.

The sky above was a smudge of stars, but here on the west side of the academy, the ground was chaos. Splintered pillars jutted out like broken bones. Fires flickered in scattered corners. The distant clang of collapsing metal echoed faintly. Heat clung to the air. Every breath stung his lungs.

[Gao Yansheng a.k.a. Iron Howler: C-Rank Martial Soldier.

Ability: Channelization of internal energy through vibrational sound waves.]

"Lovely," Ziyang muttered.

Yansheng turned his head. His eyes locked on Ziyang, then he screamed.

The air warped around the blast. Ziyang flinched back and barely dodged in time, the concussive wave skimming past him and rattling the tiles under his feet.

"That's one hell of a scream," he said. "I'd hate to argue with you at a family dinner."

Yansheng narrowed his eyes. "You're not a guard. You look like a student. This doesn't concern you. Walk away."

Ziyang exhaled through his nose. "Second guy today who's told me that." He lunged forward, gripping a broken staff in both hands and swinging it at Yansheng's side.

The strike landed with a dull thud and did nothing.

Yansheng inhaled sharply and roared.

Ziyang was launched backward. His body slammed into a stone wall and dropped hard onto the ground. Pain flashed up his spine. His ears rang like iron bells. He groaned and pushed himself onto one elbow.

Yansheng walked forward, calm. "That was a warning. Leave."

Ziyang spat dust. "Close combat's pointless. He takes a full breath before every scream... if I can keep him distracted, hit him mid-charge, headshots, maybe I might knock him out."

He staggered to his feet. His back throbbed. He limped into motion, weaving between the skeletal remains of buildings, looping in a wide arc around the plaza. As he moved, he scooped up debris, shards of stone, bent iron, shattered tiles.

From behind cover, he hurled a jagged rock at Yansheng's face.

It struck, but only glanced off. Yansheng deflected it with a shallow exhale, a pulse of sound just strong enough to break the air. His body was massive, fat layered over muscle. Not fast, but built like a fortress. Small strikes couldn't pierce him.

Ziyang kept moving. His legs burned, lungs pulling in sharp, uneven breaths. He launched another tile then a brick, then a twisted steel rod. All bounced off or got knocked away.

[Qi reserves are low. Most had been diverted today to suppress hunger.]

Ziyang's knees buckled. He collapsed to one side, chest heaving, eyes unfocused.

Yansheng raised his head and unleashed another scream, point-blank.

"Aw, shit," Ziyang whispered.

The wave hit. He flew sideways, crashed against the steps of a wrecked pavilion, and rolled onto the ground. His ears bled. Pain shot through his leg, something was wrong with his ankle.

[Eardrum damage, sprained ankle, and multiple blunt-force injuries detected.]

Ziyang's muscles gave out. He lay still, vision tilting, breath caught in his throat. He wanted to black out. The world blurred. Only his ego kept him tethered. This was his first mission. Losing wasn't an option.

Heavy boots stomped closer.

Ziyang couldn't hear them, but he felt the vibration in the earth.

Yansheng stepped on Ziyang's ankle.

White-hot pain exploded up his leg. He screamed. Yansheng leaned down and drove a fist into Ziyang's jaw. Blood splashed from his mouth.

The world dimmed. His eyes flickered.

Yansheng turned and began to walk away.

Ziyang lay still, seconds from slipping into unconsciousness. There was a moment of silence when, through the void, the system spoke:

[Loser.]

His eyes twitched open.

"Huh?" he rasped.

[You're a loser.]

Adrenaline slammed into his veins. Heat surged into his arms and chest.

Ziyang forced his head up, coughing blood.

"You'd better swallow those words, Lingxi."