The academy's focus shifted from cultivation theory to practical application. The next stage of their education was combat. The youths were led to a different yard, this one covered in sand and surrounded by racks of training dummies.
The Academy Elder stood in the center, his expression as sour as ever. "A Gu Master who cannot fight is a well-fed pig waiting for slaughter. Your primeval essence is the fuel, and your Gu worms are the weapons. Today, you will learn to use them."
The first lesson was simple: striking a stationary target. One by one, the students were called to attack a training dummy.
The C-grade youths, like Feng Yin, could manifest a small blade of red light from their Moonlight Gu, leaving a shallow gash on the wooden dummy. The D-grades struggled to produce even that.
When Gu Moon Bo's turn came, he let out a belligerent shout. A crimson blade, larger and more potent than any of the others, shot from his hand and sliced a deep wound into the dummy's chest. He glared at Meng Ru, a clear challenge in his eyes. His combat power was undeniable, a source of restored pride.
"Pathetic," the Elder grunted, unimpressed. "You waste half your essence in that useless shout. Power without control is a flood, destructive but ultimately wasted. Next. Meng Ru."
All eyes turned to Meng Ru. What would the A-grade genius do? He had no offensive Gu.
Meng Ru walked to the dummy. He did not try to attack it. Instead, he took a deep breath, and a silver mist began to pour from his palms, enveloping his entire body. It was his primeval essence, rich and dense.
"What is he doing?" a student whispered. "Is he just showing off his essence?"
Meng Ru then did something simple. He punched the dummy.
There was no flash of light, no sharp blade. There was only a dull, solid thud. But the training dummy, a thick log of ironwood, shuddered violently. A spiderweb of cracks appeared where his fist had landed.
The Elder's eyes widened for a breath time.
The other students were confused. How could a simple punch be so powerful?
"He coated his fist in primeval essence," the Elder explained, his voice tight with a grudging respect. "He is using his essence directly as a blunt force enhancement. A crude application, but with an A-grade's dense essence… it is brutally effective."
Meng Ru had no offensive Gu, but his primeval sea itself was a weapon. He could not cut, but he could shatter.
"Now, for the true test," the Elder announced, a cruel smile touching his lips. "Sparring. You will be paired up. You will learn the true meaning of combat. First pair: Gu Moon Bo, Meng Ru."
The yard fell silent. The Elder had pitted the two rivals against each other on the very first day.
Gu Moon Bo's face split into a vicious grin. This was the moment he had been waiting for. He could finally, legally, beat the river rat into the dust. "I've been waiting for this," he snarled, cracking his knuckles.
Meng Ru simply nodded, his face a face of calm. He walked to the center of the sandpit, his posture relaxed.
"The rules are simple," the Elder said. "No killing. No permanent crippling. The match ends when one person yields or is unable to continue. Begin!"
Gu Moon Bo wasted no time. With a roar, he charged. A crimson blade of moonlight formed in his hand, and he slashed wildly at Meng Ru.
Meng Ru did not meet the attack. A green light flashed at his feet, and he used the Grasshopper Leg Gu to hop backward, easily avoiding the slash. He hopped again, to the side, maintaining his distance.
"Stand and fight, coward!" Gu Moon Bo roared, chasing after him, slashing again and again.
Meng Ru was a phantom. He never engaged directly. He used the Grasshopper Leg Gu in short, unpredictable bursts, forcing Gu Moon Bo to expend his primeval essence chasing him around the pit. The sand churned under their feet. Gu Moon Bo's attacks were powerful, but they never landed. Meng Ru's movements were not elegant, but they were efficient, each hop calculated to keep him just out of reach.
The other students watched, mesmerized. They had expected a brutal clash, but instead, they were watching a frustrating dance of pursuit and evasion.
Gu Moon Bo's face was flushed, his breathing growing heavy. His C-grade primeval sea was draining rapidly with every missed attack. "Are you just going to jump around like an insect?" he panted, frustration and fatigue setting in.
That was the moment Meng Ru had been waiting for. Gu Moon Bo's frustration had made him sloppy. There was a slight overextension in his lunge, a moment of imbalance.
Meng Ru stopped hopping.
He shot forward. A silver mist enveloped his fist. He didn't aim for the head or chest. He aimed for Gu Moon Bo's sword arm.
Gu Moon Bo, surprised by the sudden counterattack, tried to pull his arm back, but he was too slow. Meng Ru's fist slammed into his wrist.
CRACK.
The sound of bone breaking was sickeningly clear. Gu Moon Bo screamed, a high-pitched sound of pure agony. The Moonlight Gu's red blade dissolved as he clutched his shattered wrist, his face white with shock and pain.
Meng Ru stepped back, his expression unchanged. The fight was over. He had won, not with superior power, but with superior strategy. He had drained his opponent's stamina and waited for the perfect moment to strike a single, decisive blow.
It was a lesson in efficiency. A lesson in cruelty. It was the first entry in his combat ledger.