Chapter 12: The Underdog's Counterattack

Despair. Suffocation.

On the arena floor, Chen Kong’s eyes couldn’t help but flinch away from the Earth Dragon Lizard’s vertical pupils—afraid, deep down, that the beast would notice him.

Because he knew, in those golden irises, just how insignificant he truly was.

Some truths can only be understood when you’re standing in the eye of the storm.

Back outside the arena, Chen Kong had known the terror of the Earth Drake. But as a spectator, unthreatened, unharmed—he had only felt dread at its power. Fear was absent. Now, standing face-to-face with the monstrous creature, he finally grasped what Tian Dao had truly accomplished.

He couldn’t fathom what kind of mindset it took for Tian Dao to deliver a crushing blow under the gaze of that beast—and actually wound it.

Tian Dao… didn’t he know fear?

The thought made Chen Kong’s legs feel like lead. He couldn’t take a single step forward.

He was terrified. Truly afraid.

Even as he refused to admit it, the thought of fleeing had taken root in his mind.

After all, even his sister Chen Xing—someone he’d always seen as untouchable—had been struck down in a single instant.

Even Tian Dao, a force beyond comprehension, had only managed to wound the beast with the help of Kalolin and the others.

Compared to them, Chen Kong was just an ordinary man. Could he possibly pose a threat to such a creature?

The answer, in his heart, was clear.

No. He couldn’t.

As he thought this, his gaze grew dull. The images of Chen Xing and Lin, struggling desperately in the distance, blurred before his eyes.

In a daze, he was suddenly back—before the final exam. Memories surged like a flood.

The mocking laughter of his teammates. The disappointed sighs of his instructors. And Chen Xing’s cold, relentless words: “Useless.”

Those voices wove together in his mind, forming invisible chains—heavy, unbreakable—binding him to the spot.

Just as he was ready to surrender, to accept his own worthlessness…

A voice cut through his mind, sudden and clear.

“Remember—when you feel cornered, ask yourself: Why are you still alive?”

Dazed, Chen Kong instinctively turned his head toward the arena’s edge.

At that moment, Tian Dao seemed to sense something.

He removed his sunglasses, smiled, and pointed to his own chest.

A silent message.

If you don’t know what to do… trust your instincts. Listen to the answer your heart already knows.

After all, being ordinary… could itself be a form of extraordinary.

Boom—

The moment Tian Dao’s gesture registered, something shattered inside Chen Kong’s mind.

That’s right… Why am I still alive?

Because… I’m the weakest of them all.

Because I’m the weakest, no one pays attention to me.

Because I’m the weakest, no one targets me.

The strong have their own rules. But the weak… they have their own way too.

If I’m never going to be strong… then why not fight with the tools of the weak? Why not find my own path to survive?

As the thought struck him, his body shifted—something strange, powerful, stirring within.

A force he’d never noticed before, hidden deep in his being.

It seemed to thrive on being unnoticed, on blending into the background.

So much so that even Chen Kong had never sensed it.

But now that he’d become aware of it, the force could no longer hide.

It revealed itself.

[Void Pattern: Drastically reduces personal presence. Partially nullifies Star Energy, rendering the user 'ordinary' in perception.]

Yet, beneath this, Chen Kong sensed another force—faint, but unmistakably defiant.

Unlike the quiet humility of Void Pattern, this one was bold, wild, almost arrogant.

But it didn’t recognize him.

Even now, aware that he had discovered it, it refused to respond.

It continued its silent war with Void Pattern—completely ignoring Chen Kong.

Though he couldn’t call upon that second force, Chen Kong now knew of Void Pattern.

And with that knowledge, he had found a way—a path through the Final Evaluation.

He would make them all see.

Even the weakest… have the right to survive.

“Oh? Finally gone.”

“Gone? What’s gone?” Kalolin frowned at Tian Dao, confused.

Tian Dao, already walking away, replied with a smirk, “Oh, you know. The disappearance of the weakest one.”

“After all, for the weak to survive in this cruel world… they must turn the strong’s scorn into their own weapon, don’t they?”

“…Huh?” Kalolin stared blankly. What was he babbling about now?

Though she didn’t understand, one thing became clear.

“Tian Dao! The evaluation isn’t over! Where are you going?”

Tian Dao waved casually over his shoulder. “Where else? The cafeteria. Need a sugar boost.”

Kalolin scowled. “But aren’t you breaking the rules?”

Tian Dao didn’t look back. “Rules? That’s for the weak. I am Tian Dao Siming. I am the rule.”

And with that, he vanished into the tunnel’s darkness, leaving Kalolin stunned.

Moments later, realizing she couldn’t stop him, she sighed and turned her attention back to the arena.

But no one noticed—neither Kalolin, nor the Earth Drake, nor anyone else—that their focus had already slipped.

The attention of the entire arena had, without their awareness, shifted entirely to Chen Xing and Lin.

And in that moment… the weakest of them all had vanished.

Unseen. Unnoticed. Unfelt.

Perhaps it was bored. Perhaps it had already vented the fury Tian Dao had sparked.

After a brutal beating, the Earth Drake decided the game was over.

It was time to teach these insolent insects what true power looked like.

Boom!

With a thunderous stomp, the beast unleashed a wave of star energy—like a tsunami—crushing Chen Xing and Lin.

In an instant, the two who had been dodging and weaving, searching for openings, were pinned beneath the force, slammed onto the cold arena floor.

Now, it felt as if mountains pressed down on them.

Despair. Infinite despair.

The Earth Drake had shown, with a single act of numerical dominance, the brutal truth:

In the face of absolute power, all tricks, all flair—mean nothing.

Of course, one exception remained.

Chen Xing lay on the ground, sweat pouring from her brow. Her eyes burned with defiance, fixed on the Demon Blade Xueyan—abandoned, far away.

He could wound it. Tian Dao did.

And I’ve never believed I was weaker than him.

Yet… I never even got a chance to strike.

Just once… just one chance…

Just as despair threatened to swallow her…

A figure—ignored, overlooked—crept forward.

The one no one saw.

He picked up the Demon Blade Xueyan, lying on the arena floor.

Even the Earth Drake didn’t notice.

Chen Kong gripped the blade, face pale, heart pounding as if it would burst.

The blade trembled violently in his hand—refusing him, mocking him, screaming at his weakness.

But still, his grip remained iron.

One chance. That’s all I get.

He took a deep breath.

Then, slowly, silently, he began to move—like a shadow—toward the back of the Earth Drake, completely unguarded.

The strong have their rules.

But the weak… have their own way of surviving.

—

Meanwhile, in the cafeteria, Tian Dao lounged with his legs propped up, savoring the last bite of strawberry cake.

He paused. Set down his fork.

“Ah… the underdog’s counterattack? Interesting.”

He chuckled, finished the dessert, then stood.

Heading toward the dormitory block, he suddenly stopped.

And in a quiet, knowing tone, he said:

“Chen Kong… to survive under the eyes of the strong… isn’t easy. Especially…”

He removed his sunglasses.

Beneath them—those unmistakable, icy cerulean eyes.

“…when they’ve already seen through you.”

With that, he vanished into the tunnel.

And he became the first—and only—person to return to the dorms before the Final Evaluation ended.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end