Chapter Sixty-Eight: [Nalan Sheng VS the Genius of the Military Division]

Chapter Sixty-Eight: [Nalan Sheng VS The Military Genius]

At precisely eight o’clock in the evening, the main hall on the third floor of the Professional Alliance was filled to capacity with five thousand spectators. The final round of the E-level ability users’ professional assessment had officially begun. Nalan Sheng’s opponent was no pushover; he was a talented young man from the military named Zhang Weilun, nineteen years old this year.

Zhang Weilun was a special recruit of the military, freshly graduated from the Academy of Ability Users, and his strength was said to have reached the standards of C+ level. He possessed both natural and superhuman abilities—a rare duality—and he was no novice. Having participated in numerous real combat missions during special military training, he was far more seasoned than the average newcomer.

However, since Nalan Sheng had broken through her family’s restrictions and found herself at Summer Zhen’s side, her current state was also excellent.

As soon as the duel began, Zhang Weilun launched a fierce assault. He was well aware of Nalan Sheng’s strength and chose to seize the initiative. His elemental ability was wind: he could create storms and blades of wind, enhancing his speed and wielding highly practical power.

The air erupted with whistling sounds; a row of wind blades swept through like wheels, forming dozens in an instant, encircling Nalan Sheng. At the same time, a whirlwind rose from beneath her, making everyone in the arena feel the force of a level seven or eight wind. The audience, particularly several women, had their skirts lifted, eliciting shrieks and providing the men nearby with an unexpected spectacle.

Yet, within the storm, Nalan Sheng was shielded by powerful psychic force; her garments did not flutter in the slightest. The three-meter radius around her was like a forbidden zone.

Confronted with the wind blades, Nalan Sheng remained composed. Bright beams shot from her sleeves, spinning under her psychic control, colliding directly with the wind blades and shattering them instantly.

Zhang Weilun’s expression shifted; he hadn’t expected his wind blades to be broken so nonchalantly. Yet he quickly recovered—after all, Nalan Sheng’s reputation made such feats unsurprising.

He let out a prolonged cry, his form shifting until he resembled a human with the body of an eagle, employing the superhuman mimetic skill. With the windstorm’s power, he soared easily, dodging Nalan Sheng’s weapons.

But Nalan Sheng’s weapons, governed by her psychic force, swiftly pursued him.

A sharp cry echoed from Zhang Weilun’s beak, and a wave of sound descended from above, causing the beams aiming to attack him from below to tremble violently before crashing to the ground, revealing themselves as flying daggers.

“His sonic attack is formidable,” Nalan Sheng frowned slightly, though she did not dwell on it.

In eagle form, Zhang Weilun fully unleashed the power of the wind element, harmonizing perfectly with his new features. He hovered above Nalan Sheng’s head, repeatedly launching wind blades and storms, momentarily suppressing her—a surprise to many spectators.

Summer Zhen, seated below, remained calm. He trusted his girlfriend’s strength and believed she would not be subdued so easily.

Nalan Sheng’s expression was unhurried, steady and cool. Though temporarily pressed by Zhang Weilun, his abilities were gradually revealing themselves. She had so far only employed psychic attacks and defenses, without activating her illusions—merely observing how capable this military recruit truly was.

Under her psychic control, her defensive barrier was ceaselessly hammered by wind blades and storms, producing repeated impacts.

Zhang Weilun gritted his teeth and soared higher, reaching the venue’s uppermost point, about ten meters up. His wings beat rapidly, gathering wind element energy, while his hands kneaded the collected force. A glowing mass gradually formed—a high-concentration storm.

“This is…” The host cried out in astonishment.

Many watched the scene unfold on the big screen, sensing the storm’s palpable tension. The venue’s protective measures were instantly raised to their highest level, able to withstand a full-force strike from a B+ level ability user.

Summer Zhen felt the power of Zhang Weilun’s concentrated storm for the first time, and a flicker of worry crossed his mind. Yet recalling his own first duel with Nalan Sheng, he realized the current spectacle paled in comparison.

On stage, Nalan Sheng too sensed the astonishing power; clearly, Zhang Weilun was no novice with this move, but practiced and proficient.

“Is this your strongest attack?” Nalan Sheng smiled confidently, raising her arm and pointing at Zhang Weilun.

“What does she mean by this? Is she mocking me?” Zhang Weilun felt a surge of anger. Though Nalan Sheng was a famed genius, his own strength was not lacking. He refused to be cowed by reputation; in battles between ability users, power—not fame—was the deciding factor.

A crisp snap sounded—a finger snap from Nalan Sheng directed at Zhang Weilun. Instantly, the scene within the protective circle shifted dramatically.

The entire arena transformed into a raging ocean, with terrifying hurricanes roaring like dragons, hemming Zhang Weilun in.

“An illusion?” Zhang Weilun immediately recognized the technique, but even knowing it was an illusion, he could not escape the overwhelming realism.

Nalan Sheng’s illusion-crafting was no ordinary skill; she did not merely create isolated visions, but conjured a whole spatial environment. This demanded immense psychic strength, and Nalan Sheng possessed it, making her illusions far superior to those of her peers.

Summer Zhen, witnessing this, suddenly conceived a crucial idea: his own ability transformed fantasy into reality, while Nalan Sheng could create vast illusions. If they combined their powers, turning her illusions into real, lethal forces—wouldn’t that be...

The prospect of collaboration with his beloved filled Summer Zhen with anticipation.

Yet the audience’s attention was riveted on the stage. Under the threat of Nalan Sheng’s illusions, Zhang Weilun had completed the storm’s concentration. The energy rippling between his hands could be felt throughout the hall, even through the protective barrier.

Nalan Sheng took a deep breath, her psychic force entwining with the illusion to create three walls of ocean waves before her.

“Nalan Sheng!” Zhang Weilun roared, hurling the concentrated storm pellet—a technique he had developed himself, “wind bullet technique.” It had helped him defeat many opponents, some stronger than Nalan Sheng. After unleashing this attack, Zhang Weilun felt his vitality and energy depleted; his power reserves were nearly spent.

The storm bullet descended from above, its thunderous roar distorting the illusions around it—mere phantoms, after all.

But Nalan Sheng did not flinch. In her hand appeared a long spear, gleaming silver, seemingly charged with lightning.

She released her grip, letting the silver spear hover at her brow. She pressed her index and middle fingers together at her temples.

Under her psychic control, the spear began to spin faster and faster, until a deep hum resonated and the lightning on its shaft—whether real or illusory—turned it into a blur of shadows.

“Go!” With a surge of pure psychic energy—her most refined, rarely-used force, condensed through the Nalan family’s secret training method—Nalan Sheng propelled the spear.

A streak of silver light exploded, echoing with thunder as, before the eyes of all, the spear collided with the storm bullet. A burst of energy erupted, tearing through the illusion and producing a dazzling radiance. The protective circle trembled violently, struggling to withstand the clash of their ultimate moves.

When the energy storm subsided, Zhang Weilun was left battered, circling above with wounds marring his body. Below, a haze concealed the aftermath.

“Could it be I’ve defeated Nalan Sheng?” Zhang Weilun coughed, pondering.

The next moment, he sensed danger from behind—a rush of wind, and he cursed under his breath.

A blade flashed past, and Zhang Weilun flapped his wings to evade, only to discover it was but an illusion.

“Damn it,” he muttered, embarrassed. Then, from all directions, came howls and bursts of blade light, both real and false. Forced to dodge repeatedly, his depleted powers led to errors and sluggish reactions—he was wounded by the genuine blades.

A minute later, Zhang Weilun was in a sorry state, his body covered in cuts that made him look frightening, though fortunately none were life-threatening.

What worried him more was that Nalan Sheng had become “invisible,” using illusions to create a fog that made it impossible to discern her location.

“Then I’ll break your illusion.” Zhang Weilun summoned another storm, absorbing the illusory mist and clearing the scene within the protective circle. But as a patch of fog was drawn in, it transformed into a chain that lashed Zhang Weilun, knocking him from the air. His eagle form vanished, his remaining power insufficient to maintain the transformation.

Looking around, Zhang Weilun saw nothing but Nalan Sheng’s illusions, feeling as though every shadow was an enemy.

A figure emerged slowly from the mist—it was Nalan Sheng.

“Give up. You are not my equal,” Nalan Sheng said coolly.

“Surrender? No, I serve the military. I will never surrender.” Zhang Weilun drew a hidden melee weapon from his waist—a flexible blade, which, infused with wind energy, became rigid. One hand stayed behind his back.

“Then forgive me.” Nalan Sheng, with psychic force, hurled a massive illusory boulder at him. A mysterious smile appeared on Zhang Weilun’s lips.

“At last, you show yourself. This time, victory is mine.” With that, he threw the rigid blade, which exploded, shattering the illusory boulder but breaking the blade as well—it was clearly no ordinary illusion. He then rushed at Nalan Sheng.

At the same time, the hand he had hidden behind his back swung forward, forming a concentrated storm. Though smaller than the earlier storm bullet, the close distance made it deadly. He launched the storm bullet at Nalan Sheng.