Beyond the Zenith

Over the next few days of combat training, he served as one of the daily sparring targets alongside the other seven members of Dormitory 11. All of them had completely abandoned their old habit of slacking off and cheating.

They trained with fierce dedication, regardless of whether their opponents were other recruits or the instructors occasionally stepping in for demonstrations. These instructors were all Zhang Dao’an’s people and weren’t nearly as soft-hearted as Mira. Although they held back a little, their punches still landed hard.

“Only pain can teach you what to do next time,” they said. “Remember to thank us for this lesson later.”

It didn’t matter how outmatched they were against the instructors, though; Dormitory 11 gave it everything they had—aside from Han Qingyu, who still held back from going all out with the liquid source energy.

In the days leading up to the midterm training evaluation, they finally started to look like proper soldiers. They fell asleep the moment they hit their beds each night, then groaned in pain in their sleep.

During this time, Mira continued to find excuses to shower at Dormitory 11, mostly because her female comrades had told her that the recruits had started training hard since that first time.

She brought ointment for the platoon members every day and always appeared happy, though she did her best to keep a straight face, hiding the smug little satisfaction of her successful schemes.

The days passed quickly, and soon it was time for the midterm evaluation.

Li Wangqiang rubbed his hands together as he eagerly rose onto his toes to peer out a window on the third floor of the instructors’ building. Over a dozen wooden sparring platforms had been set up in the center of the training ground below. Recruits and veteran soldiers packed the grounds, filling the space with the clamor of sparring.

A recruit at the edge of one platform flailed his arms for several seconds before finally losing his balance and tumbling off.

“Aiya! Tsk.” Li Wangqiang winced in sympathy.

Despite knowing that the recruits’ chances of winning were impossible, he couldn’t help but get his hopes up every time the evaluations came around.

“Feels like I almost had it,” Grave Robber muttered, having been one of the first to go up and kicking himself for failing since coming back down.

As he watched, however, he realized that every recruit seemed capable of almost hitting the veterans. The thing was, none of them could cross that final gap.

“The closer it looks, the easier the veterans are having it,” said Han Qingyu.

Dormitory 11 stared at him.

“The quick reactions, the precise stops, the effortless dodging by the smallest margins. They can only move like that when they’re in total control... Look at that big guy over there.” Han Qingyu pointed at someone squaring off against a veteran on one of the platforms.

“Him? His name’s He Tangtang,” Yang Qingbai said. “He showed up late to the meat fight that night and has become pretty well known since then.”

“Oh. He’s got a pretty... cute name for his size.” Han Qingyu chuckled. “See how the veteran across from him dodges with huge gaps every time? At first glance, it might seem like he’s doing worse than the recruits who almost land their hits, but it’s actually the opposite. His strikes are fast, and they’re genuinely threatening to the veteran, so they give a wider berth when they dodge.”

“Really?” The rest of Dormitory 11 nodded thoughtfully, then slumped. “Then what’s the point? The veterans are veterans for a reason. Even two-year veterans are still way more skilled, and they’re wearing source energy devices on top of that. They’re obviously not going to let us recruits win.”

“No, those simplified devices they’re wearing are nothing like the real source energy maneuvering devices.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Han Qingyu mentally compared them to the ones he’d seen before. “The ones they’re wearing are mostly for defense, so the recruits can go all out without hurting anyone. As for any boost in mobility, if there is one, it’s probably minor.”

The devices the two-year veterans on the platforms wore were completely different from the ones Lao Jian and his team used. These only consisted of a single metal band across the chest, with a boxy source energy case clipped onto it.

The recruits, meanwhile, wielded real blades. The only difference was that the blades weren’t made of dead iron, but ordinary, unsharpened metal.

Before the evaluation, Zhang Dao’an had someone demonstrate what happened when a blade struck the body to dispel the recruits’ worries. The blade had cracked apart. He seemed to be deliberately showcasing the power of the source energy maneuvering device at this midterm milestone.

Just as they were talking, the evaluator called out a number. ℴℴ𝘮

“My turn. I’m up.” Wen Jifei squeezed through the crowd, handed his name badge to the recorder sitting nearby, and jumped onto the platform.

Then he just stood there, unmoving.

As per the rules, the veteran was only allowed to dodge, not attack. Their real fun came from faking openings to bait the recruits into over-committing and falling off the platform, something that prompted the loudest cheers and whistles from the veterans’ corner.

The veteran had faked about eight hundred openings at this point, but Wen Jifei still didn’t move.

The two stared each other down.

“What are you gonna do now?” Wen Jifei lazily twirled the blade in his hand. “No matter how you guys end up judging this, I’d personally call this a draw.”

Having explained his strategy, Wen Jifei turned and crouched down. “Little Qing, how much time is left?”

The time limit was two minutes. Han Qingyu glanced at Mira’s watch on his wrist. “About... eighteen, seventeen seconds.”

“Oh, well in that case...” Plague Chicken rose suddenly from his crouch and thrust his blade diagonally upward from his abdomen.

Gasps rang out.

The shamelessly underhanded strike caught almost everyone off guard. Even so, the veteran facing Wen Jifei had fought on the front lines of the Witnesses and was trained to never let their guard down.

The veteran jumped backward to the far end of the platform in an instant, wobbled, then steadied himself.

Close, Wen Jifei thought, attacking like a madman in the remaining seconds.

Unfortunately, his chance had passed, and he was soon thrown off the platform.

“Sorry, Platoon Leader Mira,” Wen Jifei said ruefully to Mira as he picked himself up.

Then he walked over and gave Han Qingyu a pat on the back.

***

“So you’re that Han Qingyu?”

Thanks to the incident where he’d hit Zhang Dao’an on the head, plus the meat fight, the veteran already knew the name of the recruit standing before him. Even if he hadn’t, one look at the crowd of recruits clustering around would have told him enough.

“Yeah.” Han Qingyu stood relaxed, blade in his left hand, arm hanging naturally at his side.

“Bring it on.” The veteran wore an amiable smile, which then shifted into focused readiness. The blue light on his chest pulsed. He couldn’t afford to lose face here.

“Alright,” Han Qingyu said, blade already moving into a left-handed upward slash, straight from low to high. This way, he could move directly into the next strike, a downward chop, whether straight or diagonal.

A rare gasp came from the veterans’ corner. “That’s fast!”

Han Qingyu was fast, but not fast enough. The veteran dodged right instantly, opening enough distance in a blink to clear the first slash and neutralize the follow-up.

Except something was wrong.

The veteran realized it only after he’d dodged. Han Qingyu never completed his slash.

The left-handed slash had only been a delivery. Midway through the upswing, Han Qingyu had transferred the blade to his right hand, reversed his grip, and twisted his entire body, driving the force from his core.

It was hard to follow and even harder to defend against.

Beyond the element of surprise, the strike pursued only one thing: angle. It was as Mira had taught.

Han Qingyu charged forward, sweeping his blade from lower left to upper right, cutting through the air.

A split-second exchange. One strike.

The recruits had been fighting all afternoon, and by now, everyone understood that a real opportunity only came once or twice.

“Hit it!”

The veteran’s right forearm smashed down onto the blade from above with a heavy clang.

As he couldn’t dodge in time, he had instinctively chosen to block. Cracks appeared on the blade, and Han Qingyu, sword and all, was knocked to the side.

Everyone froze. Weren’t the veterans supposed to only dodge? Did blocking count? Was that allowed?

“That’s—” The gathered recruits pointed accusingly at the platform. “That’s a foul—”

The sounds of the continuing fight on the platform cut their protests short.

The blow had knocked Han Qingyu down and to the right.

Despite this, the blade remained in his hand, in a reversed grip, and his forward momentum hadn’t stopped.

Han Qingyu’s forward lean carried him along on sheer inertia as he fought to twist around. The outer edge of his right foot slid along the ground while his left foot pushed off. In one fluid arc, he swept past the veteran’s waist.

The blade dragged across the veteran’s waist with a screech.

With that, the fight came to an end.

Han Qingyu staggered, barely standing at the far end of the platform.

Fewer than five seconds had passed since he had first launched into an attack.

The veteran stood frozen. He didn’t even turn to look at Han Qingyu. Instead, he slowly lowered his head to examine his left side. Despite being uninjured, his expression made it seem as though he had actually been cut open.

The entire venue fell unexpectedly silent.

Then, the evaluator’s emotionless voice rang out. “Arm severed. Bisection at the waist. Han Qingyu of Dormitory 11 wins.”

***

In the instructors’ building, Li Wangqiang stood clutching half a window he had accidentally ripped off.

“What are you gawking at? Hurry up and sort out the regiment’s schedule. Get me a car while you’re at it,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir.” His subordinate left.

“I’m going to the test site with the recruits tomorrow,” Li Wangqiang explained to the staff officers around him.

He turned back around with a foolish grin, eyes shining as he watched Han Qingyu leap down from the platform after that explosive bout.

“Let me tell you this. Tonight I’m going straight up to Ninth Army Mountain, to the Wall of Heroic Spirits. I’m going to call in every favor those old guys owe me to support this kid from the underworld. If this kid tests below a C-rank, my friendship with them is over. If he’s B-rank or above, I’ll buy them drinks for three days and three nights.”