Chapter 11690 — Still Fighting?

Wei Zhao nodded. "Understood, Instructor."

Monarch Song looked at him once more, tilting his head in a motion almost too slight to perceive. "Still fighting?"

Wei Zhao raised an eyebrow. "I can keep going?"

Monarch Song replied, "There's no rule that says each person may only take down one layer of true fate. If you're willing, you can strip them all—then everyone else is out."

That single sentence set everyone from Di Liantian on edge.

Just moments ago they had been straining to pluck Wei Zhao's peach for themselves; now, far from plucking anything, their own fates rested in Wei Zhao's hands.

Wei Zhao had already taken down three layers of true fate single-handedly, and at the pace he had just shown, taking down even more was hardly out of the question.

The crux was this: if Wei Zhao truly cranked the tempo of attack and defense up to the level he had just displayed, none of them could even keep up, let alone seize back the initiative.

In an instant, everyone left standing was teetering on the brink.

Monarch Song watched Wei Zhao quietly.

Wei Zhao smiled. "I'd like to, but I doubt the instructor will give me another chance like that."

He had indeed forced his opponent to blow out with sheer speed just now, and on the single metric of speed alone, he had most likely surpassed Monarch Song's limit.

But that was absolutely not the limit of Monarch Song's personal strength.

If he chose to, even without the speed, he still had any number of ways to patch that shortfall.

Don't forget—up to this point Monarch Song had done nothing but dodge and defend one-sidedly. He had never said he was incapable of striking back.

The moment he began to act, even without striking hard, he would inevitably impose a massive restraint.

When that time came, who would be pressing whom would be another story entirely.

Wei Zhao had at least that much self-awareness.

Monarch Song did not refute him.

Whatever his attitude toward Wei Zhao, the trial selection had to continue; that was his duty as an instructor, and he would naturally tolerate no one running wild.

Seeing Wei Zhao withdraw with good sense, the Di Liantian crowd let out a collective breath.

Yet before they could rejoice for even a second, Wei Zhao suddenly stopped in his tracks, standing squarely before Di Liantian.

"A friendly reminder—I like plucking peaches too."

Di Liantian: "..."

Not just Di Liantian—all six of them turned the color of the bottom of a pot.

With the strength Wei Zhao had just displayed, if he truly set his mind to stealing their heads, wouldn't it be one shot, one kill?

In the Academic Affairs Headquarters building, the assembled higher-ups all wore peculiar expressions.

Xiao Tiao laughed. "This one's got a strong vindictive streak."

Shi Wushuang glanced at Prince Di Xuan. "Right now Senior Song has six layers of true fate left and can release at most five, but there are six people remaining—not even enough to go around. And on top of that they have to guard against Wei Zhao plucking peaches. Just thinking about it is hard."

Prince Di Xuan was choked speechless.

This was truly a case of trying to steal a chicken and losing the rice instead.

Earlier they had thought Di Liantian had some tricks up his sleeve—that even if he couldn't crush Wei Zhao outright, he could at least give him a proper恶心—er, a proper sickening.

But now it seemed it had been cleverness all along, from start to finish—not a single thing had worked, and instead they were being led by the nose at every turn.

Useless, the lot of them!

Sure enough, the Di Liantian clique began to turn on one another.

That awkward predicament Shi Wushuang had described—they themselves saw it more clearly than anyone.

Though no open quarrel had broken out yet, judging by their micro-expressions, this little gang had clearly become united in appearance only and was already secretly scheming against itself.

After all, the reason they had been able to band together last round was that there was no direct competition between them—they could still pull one another along.

But now the situation was entirely different.

By the rules, they could still have joined forces; but with Wei Zhao's little maneuver, they had all been set squarely against one another at once, and the whole nature of the thing had changed.

As expected, the ensuing course of events grew especially chaotic.

Six people, only five slots—everyone wanted to grab the lead, yet everyone feared having his peach plucked by another.

In the space of a single second, one had to turn over at least a thousand schemes in one's mind, or one would be picked clean by the others in no time.

The most agonizing of all was still Di Liantian.

Though Wei Zhao's remark had not been aimed solely at him, there was no doubt that Wei Zhao would give priority to the one who had started it all.

To be fair, in terms of pure strength, Di Liantian still held a slight edge over the others.

The problem was that whenever he seemed to have seized an opening and was about to act, Wei Zhao's gaze would drift onto him, faint as ghost or real as flesh, and sometimes Wei Zhao would even make some little gesture—and after a while, anyone at all would have been scared into a nervous breakdown.

As for Monarch Song, the target of their concentrated assault, his state was markedly more relaxed than when he had faced Wei Zhao.

At the pace of this bunch's attack and defense, even if they worked in perfect unison they would struggle to pose a real threat to him—let alone now, when every one of them was harboring his own designs.

"Boring."

Seeing this, the higher-ups in the Academic Affairs Headquarters building shifted their gazes one after another to the other three groups.

And then what unfolded in Group C made every one of them rise to their feet in unison.

A candidate with bloodshot eyes was laughing like a madman, and beneath his feet lay none other than the instructor he had just crippled with a single heavy blow, now barely clinging to life!

"Save him!"

The higher-up on duty made the decision at once.

Those qualified to serve as instructors were all backbone of the Heavenly Dao Academy; not one could be lightly lost, let alone cut down at the hands of a raw candidate.

The rest stared at the scene and were speechless for a long while.

Wei Zhao's performance just now had already struck them as monster-class, enough to stand out among the candidates.

Who would have thought there was another tough one!

Someone could not help blurting out, "Just what is the background of this Mo Luoyi?"

Of the four groups—A, B, C, and D—Group C was the most overlooked. No other reason: the other three groups each had a top-tier candidate with ten layers of true fate, and Group C alone had none.

And yet, wouldn't you know it—it was this overlooked Group C that had gone and dropped a bombshell on them!

The strength of any instructor was beyond question; even if all of them, like Monarch Song, were bound by the restriction against freely striking back at candidates, when it truly came down to the wire, strike they inevitably would.

An instructor could not possibly be wounded at the hands of a raw candidate rookie—this was a consensus no one needed to state aloud.

Now, Mo Luoyi had shattered that consensus.

Watching the madly laughing Mo Luoyi in the arena, the assembled higher-ups felt a chill rise within them unbidden.

By comparison, Wei Zhao had become a harmless little white rabbit.

Amid the crowd, Xiao Tiao watched the scene with keen interest, his eyes glinting faintly.

"This year's freshmen are a little interesting."

Those beside him turned at the words. A little interesting? (End of this chapter)