In the face of Peng Ming's fury, Peng Fan remained unmoved.
He even curled his lip in disdain before continuing to shout from above, constantly belittling his father and singing the praises of Lin Jin.
"I'm not very happy to hear that," Lin Jin muttered, his cheeks slightly flushed.
Being hailed as a hero who would unify the world for generations was flattering—though he wasn't sure where Peng Fan had learned such lines.
Meanwhile, Peng Ming was trembling with rage.
His entire body tensed as his furious gaze cut through the space between them, locking onto Peng Fan.
The murderous intent in his eyes was so intense that even he startled for a moment.
But in the very next breath, he roared even louder.
"Come Up if you can! Come Up!"
Peng Ming's eyes flared wide like bronze bells, and his shoulders shook with barely contained fury.
"Good boy... You've gotten bold."
Unconsciously, Peng Ming's attacks grew increasingly ferocious.
His burning gaze alone made Lin Jin flinch—it was filled with nothing but pure rage.
"Strike!"
The cloud-patterned staff crashed down with immense pressure, aiming straight for Lin Jin's face.
It was moving even faster than before—perhaps fueled by Peng Ming's anger.
But Lin Jin remained calm and composed.
"When facing long weapons," he explained coolly to the watching students, "you must play to your strengths and avoid your weaknesses. If you lack the power to meet them head-on, evasion is your best course of action."
He shifted his body lightly, almost like a leaf drifting on the wind, gracefully dodging the blow. Without missing a beat, he continued his impromptu lecture as he moved.
Then, with swift precision, he raised the ruler in his hand. Infused with a bright, white Spirit power, it swung toward Peng Ming's waist—fast, accurate, ruthless, and without a trace of hesitation.
It moved like flowing water.
Such speed!
Peng Ming's brows furrowed. Lin Jin's combat instincts were sharper than he had expected.
Reflexively, Peng Ming pulled back his staff to defend, positioning it across his waist—the only line of defense against the incoming blow.
CLANG!
Their weapons collided with the sound of clashing steel.
A heavy force surged through Peng Ming like a crashing tide.
His hands trembled violently. He nearly lost his grip on the staff.
His entire arm was shaking from the impact.
What terrifying power!
Peng Ming's pupils contracted. He stared intently at the ruler in Lin Jin's hand, a flicker of confusion in his eyes.
What kind of Spirit weapon was this? How could something so thin and fragile-looking produce such overwhelming force?
It looked delicate—almost brittle—but it carried a weight that defied logic. Nothing could shatter it. Nothing could withstand it.
"Prison!"
Lin Jin seized the brief moment of Peng Ming's distraction.
His fourth Spirit skill activated instantly. A glowing membrane formed beneath Peng Ming's feet, rapidly expanding into a shimmering barrier that locked him in place.
Peng Ming snapped back to his senses and glanced around the light curtain in alarm.
He suddenly recalled what the family guards had told him that day.
This is that strange Spirit skill!
He poured his Spirit power outward, trying to force his way through—but the light curtain resisted, solid and immovable. Nothing inside the barrier could escape.
Worse still, his martial spirit was unable to function properly in such a confined space.
Shhhk!
Lin Jin's ruler was already descending, aimed straight at Peng Ming's chest.
Peng Ming's expression shifted. The fourth Spirit ring beneath him lit up in response, and a veil of shadowy staff projections materialized around him, forming a complete defensive shield that enclosed his body.
The ruler struck the barrier, but it was like hitting a solid wall.
It immediately rebounded, flung away by the force of the impact.
Lin Jin staggered back two steps, momentarily stunned by the backlash.
He looked up at the projection of Peng Ming's defense, a flash of surprise passing through his eyes.
'I didn't expect such a defensive Spirit skill.'
If he guessed correctly, it was likely derived from a plant-type Spirit beast—perhaps bamboo or wood.
That would explain the barrier-like defense it had just demonstrated.
In the next moment, the ruler vanished from Lin Jin's hand. He looked at Peng Ming with a relaxed smile.
"Viscount, shall we call it here?"
At that moment, the glowing curtain around Peng Ming dissipated.
Hearing Lin Jin's words, Peng Ming was silent for a moment, then sighed.
"You truly are a promising young talent. The Empire has raised someone remarkable. I'm impressed... truly impressed."
He sighed again, knowing full well that Lin Jin was offering him a graceful way out. Continuing the fight would only lead to his defeat.
Not just due to the gap in raw Spirit power, but more critically, the difference in their Spirit skills.
So far, he had already used two of his millennium-level Spirit skills.
In contrast, Lin Jin hadn't even activated his third Spirit skill yet.
And while Peng Ming didn't fully understand what was going on with Lin Jin's unusual Spirit rings, he could make one thing out:
The third Spirit skill was a turning point.
Typically, a third Spirit skill would be at least at the millennium level.
There was no reason to think Lin Jin's would be weaker than the second one he had just used.
Even if Peng Ming had two more hundred-year Spirit skills in reserve, they wouldn't change the course of the battle. I think it's better to yield now than drag it out pointlessly.
If Lin Jin had used his third Spirit skill just then, Peng Ming might have lost outright.
That skill, after all, ignored both defense and power disparity.
Although the damage may be minimal, it was real. If it landed, Peng Ming would not walk away unscathed.
"Haha, Viscount, you're too kind."
Lin Jin gave a respectful bow, smiling pleasantly.
But as he looked at Peng Ming, his eyes narrowed slightly, a gleam of calculation flashing within them.
An aristocrat like this… is a walking treasure chest. If he could squeeze a sponsorship or two out of him, wouldn't that be perfect?
After all, Peng Fan's pocket money alone was quite a fortune. Who was to say the Viscount wouldn't throw around a little extra change?
Tianxing Spirit Master Academy might not be strapped for cash right now, but improvements were always needed.
Better facilities, better equipment—there was still a long road ahead.
For starters, a Spirit battle arena.
Lin Jin looked down at the beat-up training field beneath their feet and felt a pang in his chest.
The field had taken a brutal hit during the fight. If he didn't get some money from Peng Ming to fix it, he'd feel like he let the poor ground suffer in vain.
Just then, the system prompt echoed in his mind.
[Ding! Mission complete!Reward received:- Triple Speed Training Pack (30 Days) × 1, Self-Strengthening Aura +5%, Primary Qualification Transformation Liquid × 1]
Primary Qualification Transformation Liquid?
Lin Jin's eyes widened slightly. His heart skipped a beat, but he forced himself to stay calm.
Now isn't the time for that.
Taking a deep breath, he clasped his hands respectfully toward the Viscount.
"Viscount, might I invite you inside for a chat?"
It was as if the fierce warrior from moments ago had melted away.
Peng Ming returned to his round, easygoing self—his intimidating aura gone, replaced by the familiar look of a wealthy nobleman.
He glanced at Lin Jin and nodded.
Then, suddenly, he turned to the second floor of the office building, raised a finger, and pointed straight at Peng Fan.
"You brat! Just wait—I'm coming up there to deal with you!"
Peng Fan's face drained of color the moment he heard those words.