Douluo Continent: The Martial Soul is Black Kite, the Herrscher of Knowledge

With Xu Xiaoyan taking the lead, others who couldn't hold on started to slack off as well, with only a few still persevering.

"Okay, stop."

Wu Changkong's voice finally rang out.

All the students felt as if they had been granted a pardon. Some collapsed to the ground, while others bent over, holding their knees, and gasped for breath.

Fu Li stopped walking, her breathing remaining steady.

"I've noted down today's results." Wu Changkong glanced at Xu Xiaoyan. "Tomorrow, let's continue."

After saying that, he turned and left without saying anything more.

"Oh my god...we have to run again tomorrow..." someone wailed.

"I feel like my legs don't belong to me anymore..."

"That dance teacher is too cruel..."

Fu Li walked to the shade of a tree by the playground, took out a bottle of water from her storage bracelet, and took a sip.

Tang Wulin also came over, his face flushed and his forehead covered in sweat: "Brother Fu Li, how many laps did you run?"

"Twenty-six laps."

Tang Wulin's eyes widened: "Twenty-six laps? Aren't you tired?"

"I'm used to it." Fu Li handed him some water. "Have some."

Tang Wulin took the water, gulped down a few mouthfuls, and then wiped his mouth sheepishly, saying, "Thank you, Brother Fu Li."

"It's nothing."

On the playground, Xu Xiaoyan sat alone on the ground, head down, shoulders trembling slightly.

Of everyone, she ran the least, without exception.

But she really did her best.

Fu Li glanced at her but didn't say anything.

Ah Ji thought to himself, "Why don't you go and comfort her? You're the class monitor, after all."

"She made her own choice," Fu Li said calmly. "If she wanted to give up, she could have done so long ago. But she didn't, which means she doesn't need anyone's comfort. I was just lending her a hand."

Ah Ji chuckled twice: "That sounds like it makes a lot of sense. But I think you're just too lazy to meddle in other people's business."

Fu Li did not deny it.

"Alright, alright, I'm not going to argue with you anymore. I need to eat, I'm starving."

Fu Li took out a spiritual herb from her storage bracelet and handed it to Aji's beak.

Ah Ji secretly took a peck and hummed contentedly.

"Oh, right, go practice your swordplay with Wu Changkong tomorrow. Don't forget to use the 'Words Speak Louder Than Words' technique," Aji mumbled. "That guy's right, your sword isn't suited for defense. And you, as a person, aren't suited for defense either."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is—" Ah Ji swallowed the last leaf, smacked his lips, and said, "You're inherently an aggressive person. You acted all proper in Mingdu because you had no choice. Now that nobody's watching you, why are you still hiding?"

Fu Li remained silent for a while.

"I see."

"Good to know." Ah Ji yawned. "This immortal is going to sleep, don't disturb me."

On the playground, the students from Class 5 dispersed in twos and threes. Some helped each other, some complained as they walked, and some were already looking forward to tomorrow's training.

Of course, it's the kind of expectation that comes with fear.

Xu Xiaoyan was the last to stand up, dusted off her pants, and walked towards the classroom with her head down.

She paused for a moment as she passed by Fu Li.

"Class monitor..."

Fu Li looked at her.

Xu Xiaoyan bit her lip and said in a very soft voice, "I...I will try my best."

After saying that, she lowered her head and walked away quickly, as if afraid that someone would see her expression.

Fu Li watched her retreating figure without saying a word.

----------

The next day, after completing today's physical training, Fu Li tidied up briefly and went to the training ground she had arranged to meet with Wu Changkong.

Wu Changkong was already waiting here.

Fu Li glanced at the sword in his hand.

It is his martial spirit, the Heavenly Frost Sword.

It seems that Teacher Wu is going all out today.

Fu Li understood. He stretched out his hand, and the hidden box appeared and opened automatically.

The next moment, the man who spoke too much was already in his hands.

"Come on, Ms. Wu, I hope you can give it your all today," Fu Li said calmly.

The next second, wisps of black energy swirled around him.

The lightning-fast thrust was so fast that Wu Changkong's naked eye couldn't even see it.

It wasn't Fu Li's usual starting move, Crescent Moon, but the unparalleled Swift Sword Strike.

Relying on his instinct to wield a sword, Wu Changkong blocked the thrust with the blade of the Heavenly Frost Sword.

"Oh? You actually managed to block it, not bad. How about we try this one then?"

Fu Li shouted and slashed down with the Tian Shuang sword, aiming straight for Wu Changkong's chest.

Before the sword arrived, its aura preceded it.

The black light was so sharp it seemed to tear the air apart. Wu Changkong's eyes narrowed, and he dodged to the side, while simultaneously pulling back his Heavenly Frost Sword in an attempt to block.

But Fu Li's sword did not stop.

The first sword was dodged, and the second sword followed immediately—no change of move, no charging up of power, just a simple horizontal slash.

But quickly.

So fast that the dragon danced in the sky, the only option was to raise a sword and parry.

"clang--!"

The two swords clashed, sparks flying. Wu Changkong felt a tremendous force emanating from the sword, a force that didn't seem like soul power, but rather more like some kind of... will.

Fu Li smiled.

"Again!"

The third strike is a vertical slash.

This sword strike had no technique whatsoever; it was pure power.

The phrase "Too much talk leads to death" brought with it a black arc of light that descended from the sky, as if to cleave Wu Changkong in two.

He swung his sword across the sky to parry, causing the ground beneath his feet to crack.

The fourth sword strike is a diagonal slash.

Fu Li's body spun with the sword's momentum, becoming like a black whirlwind. The sword's edge sliced ​​from Wu Changkong's left shoulder to his right waist at an extremely tricky angle.

Wu Changkong had no choice but to take a half step back.

"Retreat what?" Fu Li's voice carried an unprecedented arrogance. "Didn't you say my sword belonged to someone else? Well then, today I'll show you what my sword is really like!"

The fifth sword strike is a straight thrust.

This sword strike was even faster than the first one, "Instant Dust." There was no starting stance, no charging up; it was as if the sword was always meant to be in that position.

Wu Changkong's pupils contracted slightly.

His Heavenly Frost Sword had just been knocked away, leaving him no time to defend. His body instinctively turned to the side, the blade grazing his robes and cutting a gash in his white uniform.

That was close.

But Fu Li didn't give him a chance to catch his breath.

The sixth strike. An upward slash.

The sword whistled upwards, tearing through the air. Wu Changkong leaned back, the sword grazing just above his nose, severing a few strands of hair.

The seventh sword strike. A downward slash.

Fu Li leaped into the air, gripping his sword with both hands, and brought it down from above. This strike was even more powerful than the third; the black light on the sword, "Words Must Be Killed," surged, and the blade almost transformed into a black lightning bolt.

Wu Changkong dared not take the blow head-on and dodged it.

"boom--!"

The sword struck the ground, sending shards of stone flying and leaving a crack half a meter deep.

Wu Changkong steadied himself and looked at Fu Li.

The gray-haired, black-eyed boy stood beside the crack, pointing slanted at the ground with a carefree smile on his lips.

His two purple spirit rings slowly rotated at his sides, and a black aura swirled around him, as if it were alive.

"Teacher Wu, where's your sword?" Fu Li's voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the empty training ground. "You've been dodging and blocking the whole time. Is this your sword?"

Wu Changkong remained silent for a second.

Then, he smiled too.

The smile was faint, but it was definitely a smile.

"it is good."

He only said one word.

The next moment, the cold light on the Heavenly Frost Sword surged.

Wu Changkong stopped retreating and instead went to meet him.

The two swords clashed.

"Clang—clang—clang—"

With three consecutive sword strikes, Fu Li advanced instead of retreating, each strike more ruthless than the last.

His swordsmanship lacked structure, routine, and even rationality.

Only sharpness.

Incomparably sharp.

Each sword strike seemed to tear everything in front of it apart, each sword strike carried an indomitable momentum.

This is his sword.

It is not the Taixu Sword Form, nor the Guardian Sword Transformation Sword, nor those exquisite and unparalleled moves.

It's all about attacking.

A pure, uncompromising attack.

"That's great!" Fu Li laughed loudly, and his sword stance changed again.

The black light on the sword condensed into a thin line; it was not sword energy, but sword intent—or rather, the nascent form of sword intent.

A sword strike was unleashed.

It has no name and no moves.

But what he wanted to do most at that moment was to kill.

Wu Changkong's expression finally changed.

The power of this sword strike has already exceeded the scope of a Soul King.

If he only used soul power, even if he were a Soul Emperor, he probably wouldn't be able to withstand this attack.

Third Soul Skill, Heavenly Frost Slash!

As the third purple soul ring shone, a sword beam over ten meters long, ice-blue in color, appeared out of nowhere.

"boom--!"

The massive shockwave ripped a layer off the training ground, sending debris flying and dust billowing everywhere.

The smoke and dust cleared.

Wu Changkong stood still, the ice on the Heavenly Frost Sword had shattered, and his robes fluttered in the strong wind.

On the other side, Fu Li stood holding his sword, his chest heaving as he panted heavily.

But his eyes were surprisingly bright.

"Teacher Wu," he said, "this is my sword."

Wu Changkong looked at him and remained silent for a long time.

"Your sword is too sharp," Wu Changkong said. "So sharp that it will hurt you."

Fu Li was taken aback.

"However," Wu Changkong changed the subject, a rare hint of warmth appearing in his icy blue eyes, "this is your sword."

He sheathed the Heavenly Frost Sword and turned to walk away.

He paused when he reached the entrance of the training field.

"To be continued tomorrow."

Fu Li stood there, watching Wu Changkong's departing figure, and suddenly smiled.

"Ah Chicken," he thought to himself, "I think I'm starting to get the hang of it."

"Hehe," Ah Ji's voice echoed in my mind, carrying a strange sense of relief, "I knew it, you're not suited for defense."

Fu Li looked down at the sword in his hand. The black light on the sword had dissipated, and it had returned to its original appearance.

"This is my sword," he said softly.

Then he sheathed his sword, turned, and left the training ground.