C5 Intermediate Level Training Ground

"Ahhh... Kill me, please, just kill me..."

The excruciating pain that shot through every orifice jolted the dark-skinned man awake from his unconscious state.

With his mouth agape, he bit down on his bloodied teeth, desperately crying out to Meng Yang.

His eyes, brimming with tears, conveyed not only hatred but also a profound plea for mercy.

However, his animosity was not aimed at Meng Yang, but rather at the core disciple of the Lin family he had encountered that day.

Meng Yang remained silent, avoiding the man's intense and frightening gaze.

After securing his left arm with a wooden plank, he proceeded to immobilize his right arm.

Once he finished, the dark-skinned man succumbed to the pain and passed out again.

Gathering his courage, Meng Yang approached the man with the square face.

Observing the deep, claw-like gashes on his exposed chest, Meng Yang hurried to the water tank, scooped up a ladle of water, and began to cleanse the square-faced man's wounds, as well as the dried blood around his nostrils and the corners of his eyes.

Drenched in sweat and pausing to catch his breath, Meng Yang couldn't help but sigh, finding the task more exhausting than an hour of practicing Water Serpent Style.

Reflecting on his role as a training partner in the Acquired Stage, Meng Yang cast a somber look at the two gravely injured men on the bed, his expression darkening.

He was uncertain of their exact strength, but he knew they were at least mid-level training partner disciples.

The fact that they had been beaten so severely indicated that the higher the status of a training partner disciple, the more formidable the core disciples they would face.

To avoid such a fate, one had only one choice: to grow stronger, and stronger still.

For without taking small steps, one cannot cover great distances; without small streams, there can be no great rivers.

Meng Yang knew he had to rely solely on himself.

With this in mind, he revitalized his spirit and wasted no time, immediately resuming his cultivation.

He was an incredibly diligent individual, and the events of the past few days had only fueled the tenacity ingrained in his very marrow.

Come afternoon, the elderly man who delivered meals arrived punctually as always.

Though the dark-skinned man had regained consciousness, he continued to moan in agony.

Meng Yang's intervention prevented the old man, who had intended to force-feed him, from doing so. Subsequently, Meng Yang assumed the role of caregiver.

Seizing the moment, Meng Yang discovered that the congee, which was mixed with some unknown substance, had healing and analgesic properties.

Watching the two peacefully sleeping individuals, Meng Yang wiped the sweat from his brow, took a deep breath, and resumed his cultivation.

He continued until his limbs could no longer sustain the repetitive movements. Only then did Meng Yang cease his cultivation.

Looking up, he noticed the sky had darkened considerably.

Overcome with sleepiness, Meng Yang glanced at the two and promptly fell asleep.

...

"Get up, get up..."

Meng Yang was jolted from his slumber by a voice as loud as thunder.

Blearily opening his eyes, he was met with the stern gaze of a guard.

"Didn't you hear me? It's your turn to be the training partner today."

Meng Yang frowned and looked outside, catching sight of the dawn's early light on the horizon.

Confused, he asked instinctively, "Isn't it supposed to be my turn tomorrow, according to the schedule?"

Immediately after speaking, Meng Yang regretted it. The guard's icy eyes seemed to emit a chilling aura, and the sheathed saber in his hand vibrated ominously as he barked, "Are you in any position to question the rules? If I say you're needed today, then you must be there today. The Lin family has no use for the idle or the incompetent, understand?"

Meng Yang stood up and gave the guard another look, realizing this was the same man who had brought in the square-faced and dark-skinned men with serious injuries the day before. Was he looking for me today because I wasn't in bed yesterday?

But as Meng Yang stepped outside and saw the crowd in the courtyard, he couldn't help but feel a surge of rage, like an uncontrollable bull ready to charge.

This was the group from the intermediate training partner area.

"I'll remember you..."

Meng Yang's expression darkened as he fixed his eyes on the distinct scar on the guard's forehead.

He made a mental note: if he survived the day's ordeal, he would ensure the guard learned the consequences of crossing him.

...

As before, Meng Yang joined the group of over ten people heading to the intermediate training area.

As before, Meng Yang arrived at the intermediate training square with a group of about a dozen people. This time, however, his experience differed from his previous visit to the lower-level square. Under the direction of the guards, he was assigned to the 17th sparring platform. The one constant was that, like last time, he was voluntarily chosen, and the core disciples of the Lin family he would encounter were set to be even stronger.

Meng Yang waited for less than the time it took for half an incense stick to burn before a towering figure caught his gaze. The man had piercing eyes, a broad nose, and large ears, standing at least two meters tall with arms that boasted explosive muscle mass. His every step seemed to carry an invisible weight, making Meng Yang's breathing grow increasingly labored. He had to admit, he was somewhat panicked, and his heart raced uncontrollably.

This muscular giant was clearly more formidable than the white-clothed youth Meng Yang had previously faced—stronger, more ferocious, and with an air of dominance. The moment he stepped onto the sparring platform, Meng Yang felt a subtle vibration underfoot. This wasn't due to the man's weight; the platform, five meters in diameter and reinforced with steel, wouldn't tremble under the weight of one, two, or even three burly men. It had to be the result of an unknown ability.

Meng Yang's unease deepened, and his resentment toward the scarred guard grew. It was as if he was being pushed towards certain doom without any chance of escape. "Come on, don't let me down, or I swear I'll beat you to death..." the burly man said with a grin that, despite its apparent geniality, made Meng Yang's expression darken. It was clear from the man's words that he expected Meng Yang to strike first.

With a flash of determination in his eyes, Meng Yang silently braced himself, his caution mounting. He knew that if this encounter was anything like the last, his fate wouldn't be much different from that of the unconscious man with dark skin back in the room. Without the aid of his flesh puppet, he wouldn't stand a chance.

Meng Yang's gaze flickered as he let out a silent sigh of relief, yet he became even more cautious. If he were to take a beating as one-sided as last time, he believed his fate wouldn't be much better than the unconscious man with dark skin lying in the room; he wouldn't last, even with the flesh puppet technique at his disposal.

"I'll have to rely on the Water Serpent Style..."

Considering the five evasive steps of the Water Serpent Style, Meng Yang resolved to avoid a direct confrontation at all costs, favoring hit-and-run tactics instead.

The burly man, who had been closely observing Meng Yang, noticed his resolve solidify and decided to strike first. Meng Yang's reaction was immediate; he leapt up like a startled rabbit as the burly man's fist, cutting through the air with a whoosh, nearly reached him.

"Wow, that's fast!" he thought, as the punch closed in to within three feet.

Meng Yang's face paled, but he timely executed the Water Serpent Style, swiftly shifting to the left. The burly man, however, seemed to have anticipated this move. As he pulled back his punch, he pivoted and launched a powerful kick backward at a tricky angle.

Caught off guard, Meng Yang instinctively raised his arms to block.

"Ah!"

A scream escaped him as he was sent flying over three meters. His left eye blurred momentarily.

Having successfully blocked an attack, his flesh puppet proficiency increased by 5.

Current proficiency: 1167/10000.

Staring at the large number '5', Meng Yang was astounded.

Before he could fully recover, the burly man charged at him like a rhinoceros, his fist coming at Meng Yang once more.

As expected, the punch landed squarely on Meng Yang's chest, knocking the wind out of him.

He spat out a mouthful of bile and was sent flying off the sparring platform, crashing to the ground.

"If that's all the strength you have, you might as well be dead. You're wasting my time," the burly man taunted.

In agony, with his features contorted in pain, Meng Yang heard the harsh words and struggled to his feet. He wiped the bitter taste from his mouth with his sleeve and climbed back onto the platform. His body swayed unsteadily as the burly man approached once again.

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