The Golden Generation of Douluo Continent, starting with the inheritance of the Flame Emperor.

"No need for three moves." Yan's voice wasn't loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears: "If you can withstand one move, I'll leave."

"Arrogant!" The short-haired boy's face darkened. How could a mere relative be more arrogant than him?

He laughed angrily, "Fine, one move it is. I want to see just how capable you are!"

The short-haired man let out a low shout, and two yellow and one purple soul rings lit up beneath his feet, his martial soul instantly possessing him.

A layer of earthy yellow, rock-like armor covered his arms and chest, and his aura was powerful, clearly indicating that he was a beast spirit known for its defense. No wonder he scoffed at Yan's words.

"First Soul Skill: Rock Armor Protection!"

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, his soul power surging, making the rocky shell even more solid, and a sense of heaviness was clearly emanating from it.

Although he spoke with disdain, he was ruthless in his actions, immediately using his soul skill.

Clearly, they wanted to intimidate their opponents with a powerful display, giving Yan a severe warning.

"Jiao Yang, you're going too far! Using soul skills? Aren't you afraid of scaring that little brother to tears?"

A burst of laughter came from the classroom. A three-ring Soul Master—even in the core class, such strength was among the best.

Those who can joke with him like that are the strongest members of the core class.

"If I don't make him realize the difference, I'm afraid this kid won't be convinced!"

Jiao Yang, the boy with the short haircut, snorted coldly but did not offer any further explanation.

He just wanted to bully people and teach this arrogant brat how high the sky really is!

"Ready?"

Yan remained calm despite witnessing this scene.

"Enough talk, come on!"

Yan's indifference was seen by the short-haired man, Jiao Yang, as a clear indication of the difference in their abilities, and he immediately surrendered.

Yan said no more. He didn't even activate his martial soul or mobilize his soul power.

He stepped out of his seat and came to Jiao Yang. He took half a step forward, brought his right fist to his waist, and then simply threw a punch.

Yan didn't use any force in this punch, but the speed was so fast that Jiao Yang could barely catch the trajectory of the punch.

Just as the fist was thrown, the air seemed to be sucked out, emitting a low, booming sound.

Where the fist passed, the air seemed to become scorching hot, bursting with pure power.

Jiao Yang sensed something was wrong in an instant. He mobilized his soul power and fist power, making the rocky armor on his body even thicker and deeper, and he used all his strength to resist.

But just as the fist was about to strike him, and the explosive force blasted through his protective armor and into his body, he realized that he had underestimated the power of that punch.

'Bang!'

A dull, resounding impact echoed through the classroom, like a heavy hammer slamming into a solid iron block.

A sickeningly loud snapping sound followed immediately.

Jiao Yang, the boy with short hair, let out a short cry of pain.

His crossed arms, used for blocking, were instantly riddled with spiderweb-like cracks, like porcelain struck by heavy artillery fire, before shattering with a deafening roar.

He felt as if he had been hit head-on by a charging rhinoceros, his feet leaving the ground and he flew backward.

His body flew through the air before crashing heavily into the wall in front of the classroom with a loud bang. The force of the impact seemed to shake the wall, and then he slid softly to the ground.

His arms, used for defense, were unnaturally twisted. He barely managed to stand up against the wall, his arms hanging limply at his sides. His face was deathly pale, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He stared at Yan, who stood there with his fists clenched, with utter horror.

All sounds vanished in an instant, and the entire classroom became so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

All the trainees froze, their playful, curious, and amused expressions completely frozen on their faces.

She stared wide-eyed at the red-haired boy who remained standing there, his expression calm, as if he had casually swatted away a fly.

A student who had just been promoted from a lower-level academy, without any martial spirit possession or soul skills, simply punched a defensive-type battle spirit master who had already used a soul skill, sending him flying!

What the hell is this monster?

Yan withdrew his fist, flicked his wrist, and glanced at the silent crowd before finally settling on Jiao Yang, who was leaning against the wall, his face filled with pain and fear.

"Now, do I have the right to sit here?" he asked, his tone still flat.

No one responded, but silence was the best answer.

The chuckles and whispers from before had all vanished, leaving only the sound of breathing.

Yan didn't mind and sat back down in his seat as if nothing had happened.

But what just happened has caused a storm in the whole class.

A close friend rushed over to Jiao Yang and took him to a healing-type Soul Master at the academy for treatment.

The others also lowered their voices, and it was unclear what they were saying.

However, some students guessed Yan's identity.

Without using soul skills or mobilizing soul power, one can crush soul masters of the same or even higher levels simply by relying on physical strength.

This sense of déjà vu quickly reminded them of Yan, who was famous in the lower-level academy.

Looking at Yan's hair color and appearance, they matched the legendary Yan one by one, leading more and more people to discover Yan's identity.

The first-year students of the advanced academy were all students who had been promoted from the lower-level academy last year, and they were very familiar with the legend of Yan.

Previously, most of them believed that Yan's reputation was just hype, and that his reputation was definitely greater than his strength.

Having witnessed Yan's power firsthand today, they were suddenly struck by the realization that the rumors circulating in the lower-level academies might have slightly underestimated Yan's strength, and that his true power had not been revealed at all.

Only then was the classroom door pushed open, and a middle-aged man in a mentor's robe with a serious face walked in. He was Zhou You, the mentor of the first-year core class.

He glanced at the mess in the classroom and, recalling the commotion he had just heard, roughly guessed what had happened.

However, he didn't say much more, but simply said in a deep voice, "Quiet down, get ready for class."

As he spoke, he glanced at Yan and said, "Yan, come to my office after class."

"Hmm!"

The idea of ​​a round trip caused some students in the class to gasp in surprise.

This new red-haired kid is indeed Yan!

"Quiet!"

Zhou You frowned and tapped the table.

The class quickly quieted down, which showed that Zhou You usually managed the students very strictly.

"Yes, mentor," Yan replied.

Zhou You nodded and began today's lesson.

But the atmosphere in the classroom had completely changed.

All the students, including those self-important geniuses, looked at the freshman in the back row with an undisguised mix of fear and excitement.

It seems like an extraordinary person has joined the core class; life at the advanced academy is unlikely to be lonely from now on.

Yan ignored the stares of those around her and quietly began the lesson.