Yang Hui couldn't figure out exactly how Wei Wen had passed that stage. But one thing was clear—if Wei Wen managed it, his mastery of movement techniques, force control, and overall combat fundamentals had to be exceptional.
Meanwhile, Luo Feng had just exited the Trial Tower, having failed on the second level. He lacked a perfect-level movement technique, and that deficiency cost him his life in the simulation.
But when he glanced at Wei Wen's Trial Tower progress, his heart skipped a beat.
Wei Wen had already surpassed Yang Hui.
The balance of power in the Elite Training Camp was about to shift.
"The third level, Class-B assessment requires killing 200 Golden Vultures in 30 minutes—190 low-grade Beast Generals and 10 mid-grade Beast Generals."
"Flying beasts?" Wei Wen murmured. "For those below the Planetary Level, even God of War-class fighters who can't fly, this is almost suicide."
"And my psychic force is restricted here… but I'll give it a shot."
He stared up at the sky, at the endless expanse of circling Golden Vultures. His blood surged with anticipation.
A swarm of the beasts suddenly dove at him, claws first.
In the Trial Tower, mental force couldn't be used. That made dealing with flying monsters a nightmare—they were twice as fast as ground beasts of the same rank and had the advantage of mobility and vertical space.
If Wei Wen got clipped mid-dodge or overwhelmed in mid-air, it was over.
So, he started moving. Fast.
His footwork—perfect level—let him weave through the storm of wings and claws like a ghost. He used hit-and-run tactics, dancing just out of reach while looking for an opening to strike.
But their speed was terrifying. The moment a Golden Vulture started its dive, it was almost too fast for the human eye.
Luckily, Wei Wen's force control—his internal energy manipulation—was on another level. It allowed him to reinforce his legs, adding bursts of speed when he needed it most.
Without that? He would've been dead already.
"Fighting aerial beasts is a different beast entirely," he muttered, panting as he kept dodging and slashing.
Then it got worse.
Four mid-grade Beast Generals broke from the formation and attacked from all angles—left, right, above, below. No escape route.
"Trying to brute-force me, huh?"
He narrowed his eyes.
Then launched himself into the air.
Normally, this would be suicide. Golden Vultures ruled the skies. Humans weren't meant to fight mid-air.
But Wei Wen smiled faintly. His blade gleamed as he slashed at one of the incoming Vultures.
He was fast—faster than they expected. His physique, enhanced by his mastery of internal energy, matched that of a peak Warlord. The Golden Vulture saw the strike coming but was too slow to counter.
One kill.
Wei Wen didn't waste the momentum. He kicked the falling corpse and used the recoil to launch himself toward another Vulture.
Slash. Dodge. Slash again.
Blood rained.
Four mid-grade Beast Generals, dead in seconds.
"Damn… I can feel it. My blade technique still isn't refined enough," he muttered, gripping the hilt with frustration.
Compared to Luo Feng, Wei Wen didn't have the same natural talent for blade technique. Before binding Luo Feng, he was definitely a step behind.
Even now, Luo Feng's blade skills weren't considered "specialized"—meaning they hadn't reached the Micro-Level mastery. Wei Wen had reached that level, thanks to his training feedback system, but still lagged behind the true geniuses in the camp.
Some trainees in the Elite Training Camp had already touched the Artistic Realm—a level beyond perfection, where technique merged with intuition.
Even Candice, who wasn't among the top contenders, had started to grasp that level.
"If I could reach the Artistic Realm in both footwork and blade technique—and with my 4.9x energy amplification—I might have a shot at clearing the fourth level, which usually only Planetary-Level fighters manage," he thought.
"But as it stands, with my current skill levels, passing the third level's Class-B assessment is my limit."
In truth, even with strong internal energy control, humans were still less durable than monsters of the same rank. That's just biology.
Only Hong and Thunder God—both Planetary-Level fighters—had gone beyond level four of the Trial Tower, reaching levels six and five respectively.
Wei Wen had talent, sure, but he wasn't there yet.
Outside the tower, Wei Wen still hadn't returned.
Luo Feng and Yang Hui stood quietly nearby, watching the Trial Tower monitor.
Then it changed.
"Trial Tower Level: 3.6"
Yang Hui's heart sank.
He'd been training for decades. He was a God of War-level martial artist. And his best Trial Tower score was 3.2.
Now, this kid, barely in the camp for a heartbeat, had blown past that.
Wei Wen was setting records on day one.
Yang Hui didn't know whether to feel proud or terrified.
Luo Feng stared silently. He'd worked himself to exhaustion every day, pushing past his limits.
And yet, Wei Wen—who had once been below him—was now miles ahead.
Time ticked by.
Twenty minutes later, the screen flashed again.
"Trial Tower Level: 4.0"
Yang Hui's jaw tightened.
"He made it… He actually broke through to Level 4…"
Even Luo Feng, without knowing the full implications, understood how brutally difficult even Level 2 was. That made Wei Wen's achievement feel unreal.
Inside the Trial Tower, Wei Wen faced the new challenge head-on.
"Not good!"
Before he could react, the monster in front of him unleashed a devastating blow. His body shuddered.
He knew.
"I'm not making it through this one. Without a massive leap in both footwork and blade technique, this level is impossible."
He exhaled slowly.
His performance so far had already broken the natural order. Pushing further might bring too much attention, too fast.
He closed his eyes and accepted it.
Outside, Yang Hui's brain went blank.
A first-timer reaching Level 4?
That wasn't just talent. That was monstrous. Freakish. And it had to be reported.
"Are there even any current trainees who could match this?" he wondered.
Wei Wen finally exited the Trial Tower.
Yang Hui and Luo Feng looked at him with strange expressions—equal parts awe, confusion, and maybe a little fear.
"You both look like someone told you the world was ending," Wei Wen joked.
Yang Hui shook his head.
"Your blade technique isn't high-level, but you passed Level 3. That means your internal energy manipulation—your force amplification—must be ridiculously strong."
"What stage of the Ninefold Thunder Blade are you at now?"
Wei Wen smiled.
"Sixth stage."
Yang Hui's eyes widened.
"Sixth stage in just two months…? That means your internal energy amplification has reached 4.9x?"
Wei Wen nodded.
Yang Hui didn't know what to say.
This wasn't talent.
This was something else entirely.