Chapter 118: The Ultimate Power!
12,531 Kilograms?
Are you insane?
Eight and a half months into the school term—eight and a half months of cultivation for a student—how could anyone possibly reach this level? Not even a demon-blooded descendant could achieve such a feat.
When the number on the Sky Column flashed into view, nearly everyone in the arena thought the same thing.
In the live stream, Gang Shan was stunned. “Who’s the next contestant? Someone actually challenging 12,531 kilograms on the Sky Column?”
Beside him, Le Jingchen spoke coolly. “The last one who hasn’t stepped onto the stage—should be Zhang Yu from Songyang High School, right?”
Gang Shan blinked. “Zhang Yu from Songyang High School? He barely held 7,000 kilograms in the last round. Now he jumps straight to 12,531? Does he even care if he gets crushed to death?”
He paused, eyes narrowing. “And this number… precise down to the very gram. Does he mean he’s exactly calibrated to his limit? To the last unit?”
Le Jingchen said nothing. He didn’t know either.
“Could it be… some new promotional gimmick? A joke ad campaign?”
“Bailong High School and Xianyun Group… are they using some marketing trick I don’t understand?”
Meanwhile, Wang Hai grew increasingly anxious. “What is this kid doing? 12,531 kilograms? Is he even capable of holding that?”
“He’s going to die!”
“Did you buy the most expensive insurance? How dare you risk your life like this?”
The thought of Zhang Yu being crushed under that crushing weight—his body snapping under the strain—sent a cold wave through Wang Hai. Without hesitation, he charged toward the arena.
If one of his students got hurt, he’d be held responsible.
Especially if the student survived… but the medical bills wiped out his entire fortune.
Wang Hai didn’t want such a gifted student to be wiped out in his first year—his potential drained by a single reckless gamble.
Even as he rushed forward, he was stopped by security.
While Wang Hai struggled with the staff, the other contestants stared at Zhang Yu in disbelief.
Le Mulan, watching his back, rubbed her feverish, pounding head. “Could… could it be a typo?”
Song Hailong stared, utterly baffled. “Zhang Yu isn’t dumb. What on earth is he thinking?”
Yu Xinghan, confident in his own body’s strength and supreme control, sneered. “Show-off. He’s got no chance of pulling this off.”
Hu Yuntao, equally dismissive, was about to mock Zhang Yu with Xiong Wenwu—when he realized Xiong Wenwu had already passed out.
At that moment, every eye in the stadium locked onto Zhang Yu. All focus, all attention, converged into a crushing, tangible pressure.
Even Zhao Tianxing shivered, goosebumps rising all over him. He wanted nothing more than to dig a hole and bury himself.
But Zhang Yu? His eyes were no longer on the crowd.
He simply raised a hand toward the gym entrance and calmly waved.
A moment later, Ziyun Teacher handed him a delivery.
It was medicine—ordered just before the final round. Though he’d paid extra for a late-stage Qi Formation courier to deliver it, the package had been stuck at the school gate. Only now had it been brought in.
Zhang Yu slowly opened the packaging and pulled out three syringes. One by one, he injected them into his body.
He felt the state of his flesh and blood, murmuring inwardly:
“Even 12,531 kilograms… still needs a little help.”
Seeing Zhang Yu inject himself, Wang Hai’s heart sank.
“What kind of drug is that? Why is he using drugs? Pushing like this will ruin his foundation!”
To many in the crowd, Zhang Yu’s strength now clearly came from those injections.
Bai Zhenzhen watched his steady ascent, whispering to herself:
“Go on, Yu. Win every prize—cash, endorsements, Top Ten spot… take it all!”
In the live stream, Gang Shan’s voice rose with excitement. “Zhang Yu’s Physical Strength Level is 4.95. 12,531 kilograms? One wrong move and he’ll be seriously injured.”
Le Jingchen nodded. “To push the body beyond its limits, to hold the Sky Column at that weight… it’s nearly impossible. Even a tiny error in posture or force distribution could snap tendons or shatter bones.”
Gang Shan sighed. “So this isn’t just a test of strength. It’s a test of skill. And he’s risking his medical insurance… even his entire cultivation potential.”
---
On stage.
Zhang Yu slowly raised his head, staring at the base of the Sky Column.
Though the arena roared, though every gaze was fixed on him, though this match decided his future, the fate of the three top schools, and the company’s plans…
Zhang Yu’s mind was utterly still.
After activating the Full Concentration state of the Tianwu Heart Scripture, his awareness sharpened beyond anything he’d ever known.
The world turned to black and white. All that remained in his vision was the Sky Column… and his own body.
His heart pounded steadily. Every muscle, every bone, every fiber of his flesh—fueled by blood, Qi, and medicine—was alive with power.
After the breakthrough in his heart and an hour and a half of development, his body was at its peak.
His Physical Strength Level had even climbed from 4.95 to 4.96.
Now, his heart was no longer a weakness. His entire body was perfectly balanced—ready to unleash every ounce of power stored within his flesh.
“So the rest is simple,” he thought.
“All I have to do is… do what I can.”
This was rare—Zhang Yu entering Full Concentration not in a high-speed battle, but purely to maximize strength.
He watched the Sky Column descend, slow as a snail.
Then, he gently pressed one finger to its base.
Instantly, he felt the mountainous force descending from above—crushing, overwhelming, surging through his body, into the platform beneath his feet.
If he resisted even slightly, he could see the Sky Column and the platform pressing down—like the jaws of a monstrous beast, ready to crush him.
Then, with a sudden surge, Zhang Yu slammed both palms down, trying to hold it back.
The pressure intensified.
Even with a body forged through relentless training, in that moment, his flesh felt fragile.
Arms, shoulders, spine, leg bones—every muscle and joint trembled under the strain, feeling weaker with every second.
In his perception, it was as if any misstep, any slight miscalculation, would exceed the limit… and snap everything.
So as the Sky Column pressed down, Zhang Yu adjusted—constantly, instinctively.
Arm muscles couldn’t hold—pull.
Spine couldn’t take the load—distribute.
Legs needed to share the burden—shift.
He felt like a master builder assembling a complex puzzle—freely and flawlessly arranging every part of his body’s strength to withstand the descending storm.
But this puzzle was made of flesh and blood—fragile as glass. One hesitation, one mistake, and the entire structure would shatter.
“Almost there…”
“Almost done…”
His mind raced, recalculating, redirecting, breaking down force in real time. Sweat poured from his forehead.
Yet the Sky Column kept descending.
The platform and the column were closing like a giant mouth. Zhang Yu was walking a tightrope—on the edge of being swallowed whole.
But he had no time for fear.
In his total focus, his thoughts flowed like water. The force, the flow through his muscles, the support of every single fiber—everything became crystal clear.
In the face of overwhelming pressure, Zhang Yu broke through.
Pull. Shift. Release. Push. Hold. Burst.
The techniques from his ten 10-level cultivation arts—once separate—now merged into one.
He saw the currents of power—flowing, balancing, intertwining.
Then—his eyes flashed with sudden clarity.
A lightning strike coursed through every nerve, every muscle, every bone.
“I can feel it… I can see it…”
“All of it…”
With a thunderous surge of power, his entire body reached a state of perfect equilibrium.
Every inch of skin, every bone, every thread of flesh—now shared the burden of the 12,531 kilograms.
12,531 kilograms exploded through his body.
His form became a statue—fragile, yet indomitable.
Fragile because one misstep, one imbalance, and his entire structure would collapse.
Indomitable because every fiber of his flesh had pushed to its absolute limit—like steel and concrete, holding back the crushing force of the Sky Column.
And in the stunned silence of the crowd, Zhang Yu slowly, steadily, raised his back.
He lifted the Sky Column—steadily, firmly—onto his shoulders.
1st second: Bones cracked. Skin split. Blood sprayed across his body.
3rd second: Internal organs began bleeding.
5th second: Blood poured from his mouth, eyes, nose—but he smiled.
Because the Sky Column was up.
At that moment, Zhang Yu stood as the ultimate force in the arena.
Below, Yu Xinghan stared, frozen, his eyes tracing every ripple of muscle, every contour of flesh.
This wasn’t just a body.
It was perfection—masterful technique, a level of understanding over strength and the flesh that surpassed anything he’d ever known.
Yu Xinghan realized, in that instant—he had lost.
Not in strength. But in the art of wielding it.
Zhang Yu had gambled his flesh—and won.
As the Sky Column slowly rose back into place, Zhang Yu’s body was a map of wounds—everywhere broken, everywhere torn.
But because every injury was present, none became critical.
The damage was spread—distributed—preventing a catastrophic chain reaction.
Wang Hai and Bai Zhenzhen rushed onto the stage.
Wang Hai scanned Zhang Yu’s body, then sucked in a sharp breath.
“…So light? Even without treatment, he’d heal on his own. But this isn’t just light damage. If any of these injuries had gone deeper… it would’ve triggered a cascade. Millions in medical fees.”
“He kept the damage just below the point of total collapse.”
As a top-tier sports coach, Wang Hai knew the human body better than anyone.
And he knew—what Zhang Yu had done was incredible.
The only explanation he could find?
Genius.
“Absolute talent. Unmatched talent in unlocking and controlling physical strength.”
“This Zhang Yu… is the most gifted, most valuable student I’ve ever coached.”
(End of Chapter)
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