Tryston’s hand shot forward with impressive speed, slapping the back of his flying companion to arrest the momentum before the youth could crash into him.
Something audibly cracked from the impact—possibly ribs or internal damage—but finally the residual force dissipated. The aggressive youth managed to stabilize his footing, though he swayed unsteadily.
He stared at Vogue with absolute disbelief written across his face, his expression carrying genuine shock mixed with dawning fear.
When had this dual-talent student become so monstrously strong? the youth’s thoughts were practically visible in his stunned expression. He was supposedly from a poverty-stricken background in the outer districts, barely scraping by before his trial. How could someone like that develop this level of combat power?
The entire bus had fallen into complete, heavy silence. Every single passenger was staring at Vogue with newfound wariness and calculation.
They had just witnessed a 5th level Stellar Knight—someone with genuine combat experience and cultivation advancement—being effortlessly overwhelmed in a single exchange. Vogue hadn’t even stood up from his seat to accomplish this.
Tryston Bane’s cold blue eyes narrowed dangerously as he assessed what had just occurred. His gaze moved from his injured companion to Vogue, then down to his own palm where he’d absorbed the residual impact force.
Then he raised his head and stared directly at Vogue with sharp, calculating intensity. A glint of something dangerous—perhaps killing intent, perhaps genuine interest—appeared in his expression.
This dual-talent is far more capable than intelligence suggested, Tryston’s thoughts were clearly working through rapid calculations. He’s someone who requires serious preparation to handle. Attacking him impulsively would be foolish.
Vogue could see the barely contained killing intent in Tryston’s eyes—the young man wasn’t even trying particularly hard to hide his hostile intentions. But apparently, despite clearly wanting to attack, Tryston was exercising self-control and restraint.
He’s not ordinary, Vogue amirked in thought. To hold back even when provoked at such a critical moment of potential dominance establishment... this guy has genuine discipline and strategic thinking. He’s dangerous specifically because he won’t act rashly.
Vogue immediately felt his own killing intent surge in response to recognizing a genuine threat. His instincts were screaming that he couldn’t allow someone this dangerous and hostile to remain alive—better to eliminate potential enemies before they could fully prepare and counterattack.
However, after a moment of cold calculation, Vogue suppressed his murderous impulses. Starting an all-out death battle inside this sealed bus before even reaching the examination would be strategically foolish, regardless of whether he could win.
The entrance exam and getting into War-Star University is more important right now, Vogue reminded himself firmly. I can’t jeopardize that opportunity just to deal with one hostile student, no matter how dangerous he might become later.
Besides, this Tryston wouldn’t die easily anyway. If I attacked him here, it would turn into a prolonged battle that would attract intervention from whatever authorities are monitoring this transport.
So Vogue deliberately forced his killing intent to recede, though he made a mental note to remain extremely vigilant regarding Tryston Bane going forward.
His gaze swept across the rest of the bus passengers, meeting multiple sets of eyes with calm but unmistakable warning in his expression.
Every single person present was extraordinary in their own way—these weren’t average students but genuine survivors and combatants. Among the lone passengers not affiliated with any obvious group, several of them even made Vogue feel genuine threat through their concealed auras.
This was precisely why he had acted so decisively and overwhelmingly when provoked. Growing up in the slums, Vogue had learned young that there were both advantages and disadvantages to hiding one’s true capabilities.
Sometimes, concealing strength prevented unnecessary trouble. But other times—like now, when surrounded by predators searching for vulnerable prey—hiding weakness could invite exactly the kind of dangerous attention one hoped to avoid.
Being ambiguous about capabilities made people want to test boundaries. But demonstrating overwhelming force immediately and decisively sent a clear message: attacking me will cost you more than you’re willing to pay.
Hence, Vogue had revealed his fangs through that violent display, using bloody demonstration to intimidate everyone present into reconsidering any plans to target him.
The message was simple and clear: Don’t provoke me.
Vogue deliberately retracted his gaze from scanning the other passengers and settled back into his seat with casual indifference. He raised his right hand and made a subtle gesture, causing a faint blue electromagnetic field to ripple outward from his body in a sphere approximately two meters in radius.
This was a basic defensive technique—not particularly powerful, but sufficient to detect any attacks or hostile movements entering his immediate personal space. It would wake him instantly if anyone attempted something while he appeared to be resting.
After establishing this basic protection, Vogue closed his eyes again and returned to silent meditation, deliberately presenting an image of someone completely unconcerned with his surroundings despite having just engaged in violent confrontation.
The message was clear: I’ve warned you. What happens next is your choice.
Vogue had indeed achieved his primary goal. Everyone in the bus was now extremely wary of him and treating him with cautious respect. While they barely acknowledged his right to be present among such elite candidates, they were also genuinely vigilant about provoking him further.
The hostile atmosphere hadn’t disappeared—if anything, it had intensified—but now it was tempered with healthy respect and fear. That was precisely the balance Vogue had been aiming for.
The uncomfortable reality was that students of prestigious cultivation academies, especially those from backgrounds of genuine combat and survival, barely trusted each other under the best circumstances. Competition for resources, rankings, and advancement opportunities created natural antagonism.
If any of these people encountered each other outside academy grounds in unsupervised circumstances, many of them would absolutely attempt to kill each other—absorbing blood essence, stealing treasures and techniques, taking everything of value from the defeated.
This was simply how the cultivation world operated at its most fundamental level. Kindness and cooperation were strategic choices, not natural defaults.
But at least now they know that attacking me won’t be easy or profitable, Vogue thought with grim satisfaction. They’ll look for easier prey first. And by the time we reach the examination grounds, maybe some of them will have eliminated each other and reduced the overall threat level.
With that cold comfort, Vogue settled into genuine meditation, letting his consciousness turn inward to monitor his slowly regenerating cultivation foundation while remaining peripherally aware of his physical surroundings through his defensive field.
Time passed in this uncomfortable but stable equilibrium. Hours slid by as the convoy of armored buses traveled through the city’s outer districts, gradually approaching the massive walls that separated the third outer ring from the wilderness beyond.
None of the passengers spoke much. The tension remained thick enough to cut with a knife, but no further confrontations erupted.
Finally, as afternoon sunlight filtered through the treated windows, the bus convoy reached the outer wall checkpoint.
The vehicles slowed to a crawl as they approached the massive reinforced gates—towering structures easily a hundred meters tall, designed to withstand attacks from enormous spirit beasts and protect the city from wilderness threats.
Armed guards in military-grade armor patrolled the walls, and powerful defensive formations were clearly active, creating visible ripples in the air around the gateway.
The convoy was waved through after brief inspection, the gates grinding open with a tremendous mechanical rumble.
And then, for the first time in his life, Vogue found himself outside the protective walls of civilization—entering the true wilderness that covered most of the world beyond human settlements.
The landscape immediately changed dramatically. The paved roads gave way to rough terrain. Buildings and infrastructure vanished entirely, replaced by dense forests, rocky outcroppings, and wild vegetation that grew without any human cultivation or control.
The energy in the air was noticeably denser. Vogue could actually feel it pressing against his skin, carrying hints of danger and unknown threats.
This is what most of the world looks like now, Vogue realized with a mixture of awe and trepidation. Vast wilderness filled with sun fiends, unclaimed territory, natural treasures and deadly dangers. This is where real cultivators hunt and gather resources.
And we have to cross this to reach the Inner City.
The armored buses increased speed once they cleared the gate checkpoint, their enhanced engines roaring to life as they accelerated across rough wilderness terrain. Whatever route they were following had apparently been cleared previously, allowing the massive vehicles to travel at impressive speeds despite the lack of proper roads.
’Crack!’
The sickening sound of his spine and ribs shattering rang out. Igris was violently blasted forward, crashing into the dirt like a ragdoll.
The Lizard hissed in triumph, raising its hammer to finish the job.
But as Igris lay in the dirt, a crimson aura flared around his body.
[ Asura Physique: Soulful Regeneration Activated! ]
[ 1 Soul consumed. ]
Before the monster could even swing, the shattered pieces of Igris’s spine violently snapped back into place. His broken ribs reconnected like a jigsaw puzzle, and his torn flesh knit together instantly.
Igris slowly stood up, rolling his perfectly healed shoulders. His eyes glowed with a demonic crimson light.