Chapter 46

Chapter 46: Trampled on the Head, Ground into the Dirt, and Roasted over Fire

Ju Que stared at them in disbelief. “Wait—at this distance, you two… you, a dog and a wolf… can actually tell they’re holding iron clubs and not paintball guns?”

In pitch-black Primeval Forest, seventy meters apart, and they could distinguish weapons by sound?

Cheng Xiao Ting and Huang Da Zhuang shrugged like it was nothing. “Can’t help it. Our hearing’s just that good.”

“You should train more,” Cheng Xiao Ting added, looking at Ju Que like he was slacking. “You’re feline beastfolk. You’ve got potential.”

Ju Que made a flat “oh” sound. “So what now?”

“What do you mean what now?” Zhang Ting Zhou, the octopus beastfolk, poked Ju Que’s shoulder. “Look.”

Ju Que turned—and jumped so hard he nearly tripped. “Holy shit. When did they get here? How are they like ghosts? Not a sound!”

Near several massive trees, the instructors who should’ve been far away were already within striking distance. Dark protective combat suits. Camouflage smeared across their faces. Iron clubs lifted like they were greeting friends.

“Dear classmates. Little darlings,” one instructor drawled, cheerful as poison. “Watch your language. This is the interstellar era. Technology is booming. There are no ghosts. Believe in science—don’t get superstitious.”

“Exactly,” another chimed in. “We’re just fast and light. If you want to welcome us, then welcome us. Don’t call us ghosts.”

“And don’t be afraid of these iron clubs,” someone said, holding his up like a toy. “As cadets—the future pillars of the nation—getting hit a few times is no big deal.”

“If you’re really afraid of pain,” another added, grinning, “we’re reasonable. Tell us and we’ll hit lighter. We won’t smash your heads. At most we’ll break an arm or a leg.”

“Handsome boys, pretty girls,” a different voice mocked. “You kids care about your faces. Don’t worry—we won’t hit your faces!”

Sui Xuan Chu’s group of seven stared at them.

Blatant psychological warfare. The instructors were trying to scare them into smashing the forfeit beacon.

They weren’t quitting.

The seven closed ranks, back-to-back, eyes scanning left, right, and front. No one softened.

“Instructors,” someone snapped, “you’re saying exactly what we want to say. We want to break your arms and legs too—farm points.”

“Yeah. Tie up one instructor and the squad gets ten points, each person gets ten points. Take down thirty of you and we’re basically lying down to win.”

“So don’t get smug. Who ends up in whose hands isn’t decided yet!”

“Lying down to win?” an instructor laughed. “Like the little girl you’re carrying? Lying down and falling asleep—then calling it ‘lying down to win’?”

“You want to break our arms and legs for points?” Another instructor’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, darlings. You’re the boldest, most imaginative students I’ve trained. I love your ignorant, arrogant faces.”

They laughed and advanced with clubs in hand, like cats strolling toward cornered mice.

“Come on,” one of them said lightly. “Enough talking. If you want to break our arms and legs, ask our clubs if they agree.”

“Lower your voices,” another added, mockingly gentle. “Don’t scare the empire’s little flowers. Little flowers, how about you smash the forfeit beacon and surrender? We won’t hit you. We’ll even drive you to a rest point in a luxury flyer.”

Sui Xuan Chu’s team had seven awake plus one sleeping Jiang Tea Tea—eight total. Some had no abilities. Some weren’t built for a straight fight.

The instructors had three teams, thirty-four people.

And behind them were aberrant beasts.

How the hell were they supposed to break this?

Sui Xuan Chu moved in a blur, passing Jiang Tea Tea into Cheng Lin Yue’s arms. “Cheng Lin Yue. She won’t wake up. Watch her. If your lives are in danger—smash the forfeit beacon.”

Cheng Lin Yue sat down hard, hugging the sleeping body like a shield. “Okay. Okay. You guys be careful.”

Sui Xuan Chu looked at the other five beastfolk. “Cadets are soldiers too. If they want us to quit, they can dream. Brothers—charge!”

Cheng Xiao Ting and Huang Da Zhuang shot forward without hesitation. The others followed.

Sui Xuan Chu triggered lightning summoning the moment they moved, bolts slamming toward the instructors to carve out openings.

But he’d spent too much earlier killing three-headed giant pythons. His energy hadn’t recovered. The lightning came slower, weaker—more warning than threat.

The instructors didn’t flinch. Anyone who survived the First Legion long enough to become an instructor had been drilled down to the bone. They’d fought insect clan. They’d fought aberrant beasts. They’d weathered real battle.

They dodged weak lightning like it was nothing.

Worse, more than once, Sui Xuan Chu’s lightning nearly clipped his own squad.

Bang.

Yan Yu triggered blink ability and appeared behind an instructor, dagger ready for a clean ambush.

The instructor moved like he had eyes in the back of his head. He spun and kicked hard.

Yan Yu flew like a snapped kite, slammed into a massive tree, rolled down the trunk, and spat blood. He lay there dazed, unable to rise.

Cheng Lin Yue dragged the sleeping Jiang Tea Tea toward him, tears spilling as she shook the limp body. “Sister Tea! Sister Tea, wake up—please wake up…”

The sleeping body didn’t so much as twitch.

Ju Que’s hypnosis ability never found a chance. An instructor stepped on his head and ground it into rotten leaves and twigs like he was wiping mud off a boot.

Zhang Ting Zhou gritted his teeth and transformed, swelling into a massive octopus. Eight tentacles lashed out—striking, whipping, slamming.

The instructors’ iron clubs twisted; edges flashed. The clubs became blades.

They sliced into his tentacles.

Octopus tentacles could regenerate, yes—but the instructors didn’t waste what they cut. They scooped up severed lengths and tossed them into storage buttons, laughing.

“Deep-sea octopus clan has been on land for years,” one of them said. “I wonder if these taste as good as they do in the ocean.”

“Takoyaki,” another said, licking his lips. “Grilled octopus slices. Stir-fried octopus. Sprinkle chili powder and cumin… hell, that flavor hits you in one bite.”

Zhang Ting Zhou’s tentacles were hacked down to stumps. He transformed back into human form, bloody and shaking, and got kicked into the dirt while they discussed recipes over his pain.

Cheng Xiao Ting and Huang Da Zhuang—one wolf, one dog—kept fighting with teeth bared.

The instructors’ clubs shifted again.

A burst of flame sprayed out.

Thick fur met fire and whoosh—they became screaming fireballs, rolling on the ground, howling as they tried to put themselves out.

Sui Xuan Chu’s lightning grew slower. Weaker. His face went pale, his breath ragged.

Finally, he couldn’t summon even one more bolt.

He clenched his fists and fought barehanded.

A tall, broad-shouldered instructor strode toward him, lightning gathering overhead like a living storm.

“Kid,” the instructor said, voice cruel with satisfaction, “your ability’s empty. No power left. Good. Come taste my 4s lightning-element ability. Let’s see if my lightning isn’t a lot more satisfying than your little sparks!”