Chapter 4 — The Strongest Waste Item in Martial Arts

The general supervisor took me alone to a closed arena. All four sides of the walls are engraved with defensive formations, the level is more than one level higher than the outside. "This is an S-class examination room." The general supervisor stood behind the observation window, pressing the communication device. “It was originally prepared for Saint level candidates, but this year no one used it.” He stopped, his tone was a bit magical: “Now it's there.” The opposite door opened. A person walked in. Not a candidate. It was a middle-aged man with short gray hair and a cold face. The aura on his body forced the surrounding air to become thick. I recognized that uniform as an instructor of the General Institute of Martial Arts. "I am Trieu Thiet Son." He clasped his hands. “Mid-stage Saint Realm, senior instructor of the General Institute of Martial Arts.” His eyes looked at me unlike looking at an eighteen year old child. “The General Supervisor told me to be your opponent. No time limit, no limit on tricks.” He paused for a moment. “Just use all your strength, I will block.” I nodded. I felt a little tense inside, not because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to fight back. It's because I'm afraid... of breaking something again. Trieu Thiet Son acted first. His speed is very fast. The fist wind tore through the air, carrying a layer of pale yellow martial arts true meaning, hitting me straight in the face. An all-out blow from the mid-stage Saint Realm. I tilted my head to avoid it. Very gentle. His fist passed by my ear, the wind pressure blew a few strands of hair out of place. Trieu Thiet Son's eyes stopped, the second punch immediately came, faster and stronger. Left hook, straight right, knee, elbow. A series of attacks were as seamless as flowing water, making the general supervisor behind the observation window not dare to blink. I dodged everything. Don't fight back. It's not that I don't want to fight back. It's me watching. I want to see... How strong is the mid-stage Saint Realm? The answer is— After twelve moves, Trieu Thiet Son used his full force. His breathing began to quicken. Sweat trickled down from his temples. Quyen Phong also began to show delays that were difficult to detect. And I haven't even broken a drop of sweat. Trieu Thiet Son stopped. He took three steps back, his chest heaving violently, his eyes looking at me changed. From evaluation to... awe. "You still haven't made a move." "Yes." "Let's make a move." He took a deep breath and crossed his arms in front of him. The whole body's true martial arts spirit skyrocketed to the limit, yellow light enveloped the entire body. That is the strongest defensive posture of a Saint Realm martial artist. "Strike towards me. A little strength is enough." He added: "Absolutely don't use more." I hesitated a bit. Then raise your hand. One finger. I used my index finger, pointed it towards him and flicked it lightly. Whoosh— A stream of clear glass energy shot out from the tip of the finger. Very small. So small that it is almost impossible to see. But the yellow defense layer on Trieu Thiet Son's body was like being hit directly by a truck— Crack. It's broken. Fragments of yellow light flew across the sky. Trieu Thiet Son's whole body flew backwards, his back hitting the defensive formation on the wall. The array lights up, absorbing the force of impact. He slowly slid down from the wall, kneeling on one knee, a trail of blood flowing from the corner of his mouth. The whole school was so quiet that the sound of air moving could be heard. Behind the observation window, the general supervisor's face was pale. Trieu Thiet Son raised his head. In his eyes when he looked at me, there was no resentment or disapproval. There was only trembling coming from deep within his soul. “You…” His voice was hoarse. “What realm are you in?” I opened my mouth. Honestly, I don't know either. The To family never checked for me. “I didn't

know." I said it honestly. Trieu Thiet Son was stunned for a long time. Then he smiled. That smile was extremely complicated, as if he had just seen something completely beyond comprehension. He stood up with his hands on his knees, turned to the observation window and shouted: "General supervisor! Don't call the dean anymore!" "Call people from the Martial God Palace!" Martial God Palace. When these three words were said, the communication device in the general supervisor's hand almost fell to the ground. What is the concept of the Martial God Palace? The highest martial arts agency in the country. Manages all martial artists from the Saint realm and above. It is said that the person inside with the lowest realm is also the peak of the Saint realm. The temple master is even more so a person of the legendary Martial God realm. Such a place normally only appears. on the news. What does it have to do with a "waste" like me? But Trieu Thiet Son's expression didn't look like he was joking. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, walked to the communication device, and pressed the button himself. "I'm Trieu Thiet Son, number EA-2741. Please open an emergency transmission line, connecting directly to the inspection department of the Martial God Palace." The other end was silent for three seconds. Then a cold female voice rang out: "Instructor Trieu, please explain the reason for the request." "I have discovered a..." Trieu Thiet Son looked at me, considering the word choice. "The fish's limits cannot be determined yet."