Volume 1: Bo'an Awakening & The Calamity Storm
Chapter 59
Dead Silence and the Pointing Finger
The dense, crimson haze of smoke and pulverized dust slowly settled across the dueling platform.
The pungent, acrid stench of molten granite mingled with the suffocating reek of sulfur, rolling outward on the heatwaves and stinging the nostrils of every spectator in the front rows. Beneath the terrifying, soul-shattering heat that had detonated moments before, the resilient stone pavement—normally rated to withstand Intermediate-tier magic—had shattered into massive, jagged slabs. Surrounding the epicenter of the blast, deep fissures spiderwebbed across the ground like the fractured shell of a tortoise. Invisible heat ripples continued to shimmer upward from the scorched earth, warping the vision of the five thousand spectators packed tightly into the tiered stands.
Yet far more striking than the charred rubble strewn across the arena, it was the unnatural, uncanny stillness suffocating the entire central arena of Feng Lan Magic High School that truly chilled the blood.
Dead silence.
An eerie, stifling quiet so dense it was almost impossible to draw breath.
Five thousand people—city dignitaries, powerful merchant tycoons, teachers, students, and ordinary citizens of Bo’an City—sat petrified in their seats. Not a cheer rose. Not a whisper stirred. Even the sound of breathing seemed to have vanished entirely. Thousands of pairs of wide, disbelieving eyes stared fixedly at the eastern boundary wall of the platform, where a jagged, half-meter-thick granite bulwark had been caved in, leaving a gaping, ruined breach.
Trapped within that mound of collapsed masonry, Han Yi lay utterly motionless, like a torn sack of discarded rags.
His Ice Crystal Magic Armor—an absolute defensive artifact worth millions of Magic Coins, which the Ling Clan had spent immense effort and fortunes to procure for him—was now reduced to a scorched, twisted heap of blackened scrap. The crystalline ice-scales that had once gleamed with pristine radiance were cracked into fragments, blistered, charred, and utterly warped beneath the horrific temperature of that crimson inferno. The ribbons of azure magical light that had once enveloped him had long since died out. Fresh crimson seeped from the corners of his lips and the cracked fissures of his skin, soaking into his shredded tunic and staining the pulverized stones beneath his back.
Defeated!
Han Yi—the arrogant Ice prodigy who had broken through to Novice Tier Level 3, the ultimate trump card cultivated with all the Ling Clan’s resources to seize the championship—had been utterly vanquished!
And most horrifying of all, he had been brought down in a SINGLE BLOW!
Even a suit of defensive Magic Armor, an artifact that countless Novice-tier mages could never hope to lay eyes on in their entire lives, could not withstand a single destructive strike from Lin Feng’s flames!
Up in the central VIP box, the air had frozen as solid as an ancient glacier.
“How... how could this... how is this possible...”
Seated in the second row, Ling Bai was shaking violently from head to toe. His usually refined, handsome countenance had turned as white as a sheet, the color drained completely from his face, his pupils constricted to needlepoints. His fingers dug into the armrests of his luxurious leather seat with such white-knuckled frenzy that his fingernails sank deep into the leather, threatening to tear his own flesh. He could not believe—dared not believe—what his own eyes were seeing!
The person lying unconscious like a slaughtered dog over there was Han Yi—a mage wielding Novice Tier Level 3 Ice Bind, someone whom even Ling Bai had to treat with deference! Yet before an impoverished, lowborn student like Lin Feng, Han Yi had been crushed so brutally that he hadn’t even had the chance to cast a second spell!
Beside Ling Bai, the sycophantic Li Peng sat with his mouth hanging wide open, his jaw sagging so far it looked nearly dislocated. His eyes rolled up in glassy, vacant shock, saliva dripping from the corner of his lips without him even realizing it. He sat frozen like a statue of dried mud, sheer terror clamping down on his throat so fiercely that he couldn’t squeeze out a single syllable.
At the very center of the seats of honor, Patriarch Ling Zhuofeng’s composure had utterly collapsed.
Crack!
The exquisite purple-clay teacup in his grasp suddenly gave a sharp snap. Under the unconscious release of force from his trembling fingers, the fine porcelain shattered into dozens of fragmented shards. Scalding tea surged over his hand, splashing down upon the gold-embroidered hem of his lavish brocade robes, yet Ling Zhuofeng felt not the slightest sting from the burning liquid.
The square, commanding face of the man who ruled Bo’an City’s most powerful clan—a face usually filled with haughty, unchallenged arrogance—was now mottled with livid patches of dark purple and ash. The blue veins along his temples throbbed violently. His lips quivered, parting slightly, but his throat was so dry and choked that no sound emerged. He stared fixedly at the upright silhouette of the youth standing at the center of the ring, a mad, deafening roar pounding through his skull.
The Ling Clan’s Ice Crystal Magic Armor... obliterated by a single strike?
Just what kind of monstrous magic was that deep crimson flame?! How could ordinary Crimson Flames possess enough destructive power to tear straight through high-grade Magic Armor and melt solid granite like wax?!
A few paces away, Commander Lei Zhen of the Cang Lei Ridge border garrison shifted his posture. The burly, middle-aged commander, with his thick full beard and rugged, unkempt appearance, curved his lips into an expression of intense amusement. His sharp, hawk-like eyes bored into the residual embers of crimson flame flickering on the platform, his fingers tapping out a steady rhythm against his armrest:
“Fascinating... Truly fascinating! That flame carried an explosive concussive force and a degree of mana compression that far exceeds the realm of an ordinary Novice tier. That kid... hides his cards remarkably deep.”
Lei Zhen’s low, gravelly remark, falling amidst the dead silence, landed like a resounding slap across Ling Zhuofeng’s face, making the old patriarch’s features contort in raw humiliation.
Down on the arena floor, the chief referee—a seasoned Intermediate Mage dispatched personally by the Magic Association—finally snapped out of his shock.
Swallowing a mouthful of dry saliva, his legs stiff, he cautiously made his way toward the crater of rubble at the corner of the platform. His heavy boots crunched atop the gravel and pulverized rock, every step ringing with unnatural clarity through the hushed arena.
Arriving at the edge of the pit, the referee crouched down and placed two trembling fingers against the carotid artery on Han Yi’s neck.
A pulse was still there, albeit faint and erratic. The mana reserves within Han Yi’s body were completely drained, and severe mental backlash had plunged him into a deep coma. Most importantly, his Magic Armor was shattered, and extensive burns covered his body. He possessed not the slightest scrap of combat capability left.
The referee drew in a long, deep breath to steady his violently thumping heart, then pushed himself back to his feet.
Slowly, he turned toward the center of the arena, where Lin Feng still stood with his hands resting calmly behind his back. The referee thrust his right arm straight toward the heavens, facing the arcane amplification microphone positioned at the edge of the ring.
A loud, trembling, yet thunderous voice split through the stillness, reverberating to the four corners of the arena:
“Han Yi... is incapacitated!”
“I hereby declare the victor of the championship final... is Lin Feng!”
“Lin Feng... is the Champion of this year’s Feng Lan Magic High Graduation Duel Tournament!”
BOOOOOM——!
The instant the words left the referee’s lips, the entire arena of five thousand spectators, like a volcano compressed to its absolute limit, detonated into wild madness!
An unprecedented, savage shockwave of sound erupted, ripping through every corner of the grandstands and shaking the massive steel dome of the central stadium!
“LIN FENG! LIN FENG! LIN FENG!”
“Heavens above! He actually won! He shattered Magic Armor with a single strike!”
“Champion! A commoner student has taken the championship!”
Thousands of commoner students, impoverished parents, and weary laborers from the South Street slums leaped to their feet in unison. They screamed until their voices cracked and gave out, their faces flushed bright red with uncontrollable ecstasy. People pumped their fists madly into the air; others ripped off their jackets, waving them frantically over their heads, tears and laughter blending into an overwhelming tide of pure pride.
For so many years, the Graduation Duel Tournament had been nothing more than a private playground for the sons and daughters of noble bloodlines and wealthy syndicates. Those backed by powerful clans, nourished by Magic Stones from birth, and shielded by costly Magic Tools had always monopolized the glory, callously trampling upon the blood and sweat of commoner children.
Yet today, that unjust hierarchy had been smashed to pieces! An impoverished youth hailing from a drafty, leaky attic on South Street had used nothing but his bare hands and unyielding fire to grind the pride of the entire aristocratic class beneath his heel!
Over in the Class 8 stands, Zhang Hu—Lin Feng’s chubby best friend—leaped half a meter into the air.
“Hahaha! Brother Feng won! Holy shit, I fucking knew my Brother Feng was invincible under the heavens!”
Fatty Hu bellowed like thunder, so overcome with excitement that he flung his thick arms wide and pulled Class Monitor Xiao Min, who was standing right next to him, into a crushing bear hug. The usually poised, dignified Xiao Min didn’t care in the slightest about the fat boy’s rough embrace. She bounced on the bleachers, her cheeks glowing with radiant warmth, her beautiful eyes glistening with tears as she stared fixedly at the silhouette on the stage, screaming alongside her classmates at the top of her lungs:
“Lin Feng is the champion! Our Class 8 took the championship!”
A few steps away, Homeroom Teacher Kang Mu stood frozen against the iron railing. The gaunt hands of the Fire-element instructor gripped the metal so tightly that his knuckles turned stark white, his shoulders trembling in rhythm with his breath.
Kang Mu’s eyes were rimmed with red. Scalding tears traced paths down his weathered, careworn face, pattering against his faded dress shirt. Three years ago, when Lin Feng had just awakened the Fire Element with the lowest score in the class, ridiculed by the entire school as a hopeless failure, it was Kang Mu who had stepped forward to protect him, patiently guiding and nurturing this poor student step by step.
Today, witnessing that very boy sweep away his greatest rival with a single blow to stand atop the absolute pinnacle of Bo’an City’s younger generation, an overwhelming surge of pride flooded the old teacher’s chest, far beyond what words could ever convey. Trembling, he pulled out a frayed handkerchief to dab at his eyes, his lips parting in a trembling, tearful smile:
“Good... So good, my boy... I knew you could do it... I always knew...”
Amidst the ocean of people roaring in ecstatic frenzy, tucked away in the darkest, lowest corner of the western stands, a frail, stooped figure leaned trembling against a moss-covered wall.
It was Lin Hai.
Lin Feng’s impoverished father was still clad in his worn, grayish-blue work overalls, reeking of grease and crude oil from his magic-powered truck. His rough, calloused hands, fingers stained black from coal dust and machine oil, gripped the rusted iron railing with a violent tremor.
The middle-aged man’s legs, worn to the bone from endless nights of hauling heavy ore, felt as though they would give way beneath him at any moment.
Lin Hai shakily raised a calloused palm to cover his mouth, desperately trying to stifle the choked sobs catching in his throat. Yet thick, salty tears, distilled from a lifetime of bitter hardship and swallowed indignities, poured down unchecked, carving tracks through the deep furrows of his sun-darkened, weathered cheeks.
The humiliating memories of three years ago rushed back into his mind, as vivid as if they had taken place only yesterday.
It had been a torrential, rain-swept afternoon outside the towering iron gates of the Ling Clan Manor. In order to plead for a spot at Feng Lan Magic High for his son after Lin Feng failed the initial entrance exam, this lowly laborer had cast aside his last shred of dignity, kneeling in the freezing mud, pressing his forehead against the icy ground before Ling Zhuofeng. Back then, the patriarch of the Ling Clan had stood beneath a luxurious silk umbrella, spitting words of vile contempt like lashes of a whip across his face:
’Lin Hai, a lowly hauler like you is only fit to raise a son who sweeps trash and drives trucks for the rest of his life! Forcing him into a magic academy will do nothing but sully the name of Feng Lan!’
Back then, Ling Zhuofeng had forced him to sell off his ancestral home at a pitiful fraction of its worth, driving father and son out of the city center like diseased stray dogs. The sneering laughter of the Ling Clan guards, the mocking, disdainful glares of the nobility... all of it had been like venomous daggers plunged deep into the poor father’s heart for three long years.
He had gritted his teeth and swallowed it all, willing to work himself to the bone like an ox or a draft horse, hauling loads through freezing nights until every ounce of his strength was spent—all so his son might have a chance to stand tall and walk with his head held high.
And today...
Lin Hai raised his tear-blurred eyes toward the sunlit, radiant stage.
His son—the boy Ling Zhuofeng had cursed as an insignificant insect—now stood proudly between heaven and earth, crushing every shred of the Ling Clan’s haughty pride before the eyes of five thousand people!
The humiliation of years past... had finally been washed clean by the blazing fire of his son!
“Feng’er... You did it... We... we are not insects...” Lin Hai choked out in the shadows, his shoulders heaving with every sob as the bitter resentment held back for a lifetime finally broke free.
Up on the dueling platform amidst the drifting ash and shattered stone, Lin Feng remained perfectly still.
The deafening, earth-shaking roars of five thousand spectators could not stir the faintest ripple across the calm surface of his mind. He did not leap in celebration. He did not pump his fists in boastful triumph. He didn’t even cast a second glance at the broken, ruined figure of Han Yi.
To him, an expendable pawn like Han Yi was never worth remembering in the first place.
The true enemy of him and his father—the chief culprit who had inflicted that bitter humiliation and trampled upon his family’s dignity three years ago—was sitting right up there!
Lin Feng slowly turned his body.
The hem of his simple school uniform fluttered gently in the draft carrying specks of ash across the stage. Slowly, he lifted his head. His gaze, razor-sharp like a legendary blade drawn from its sheath, pierced through the hazy veil of smoke and crossed the hundreds of meters separating him from the highest tier, locking squarely onto the center of the VIP pavilion!
There, Ling Zhuofeng sat as if nailed to his seat, his facial muscles twitching in spasms of humiliated fury.
Their eyes collided across the open air.
On one side was the patriarch of an illustrious clan, a man who held the power of life and death along with staggering wealth in Bo’an City, yet whose eyes were now clouded with nothing but shamed fury and deep, underlying panic.
On the other side was an impoverished youth from the slums, yet within the depths of his eyes burned an unyielding, sovereign blaze of pride—like a descending immortal or a war god reborn, radiating a chilling, lethal edge that sent shivers down the spine of anyone who met his gaze!
Noticing the direction of Lin Feng’s stare, the thunderous cheers across the grandstands began to subside, gradually sinking into silence...
Curiosity gripped the crowd. Every single pair of eyes was glued to the next move of the newly crowned champion.
Before the gaze of more than five thousand people holding their breath, Lin Feng slowly raised his right arm.
His movement was deliberate, unhurried, yet carried the crushing weight of a falling mountain.
Four fingers curled inward, leaving only his index finger extended straight forward—cutting through the empty air, pointing directly at the face of Ling Zhuofeng sitting in the highest seat of honor!
An act of breathtaking, unbridled madness!
To dare point a finger directly into the face of Bo’an City’s most powerful figure before the eyes of the entire world—in the city’s entire history, no one had ever dared to do such a thing!
The entire colosseum held its breath. The atmosphere plunged once more into a suffocating deadlock.
Right at that moment, Lin Feng mobilized a surge of mana from his Fire Stardust up into his chest, gathering it at his throat. His voice did not break into a wild, uncontrolled screech; instead, it rang deep, sharp, and resonant, like a crack of thunder tearing across a cloudless sky, slamming directly against the eardrums of every soul present:
“Ling Zhuofeng!”
Three syllables struck like a war hammer pounding against iron.
“Three years ago, you looked down on my father like a worthless worm, forcing the two of us to kneel and crawl out of the Ling Clan in disgrace!”
“Today, I, Lin Feng, use this very flame to tell you:”
Lin Feng took a deep breath, throwing his chest out, his outstretched finger leveled at Ling Zhuofeng without wavering by a single fraction of an inch, his voice crashing forward like a roaring tidal wave:
“The son of that impoverished driver from three years ago has trampled all the haughty pride of your Ling Clan beneath his feet!”
The moment that declaration fell, the entire Feng Lan arena erupted once more into a frenzy!
Ling Zhuofeng’s face instantly shifted from livid purple to pitch-black, his chest heaving with violent, ragged breaths. A savage, sky-scorching aura of murderous intent erupted from his body, causing the air surrounding the VIP stands to freeze on the spot!
An earth-shattering tempest had finally, officially descended upon Bo’an City!