Chapter Thirty-Seven

The two tiger paws sliced through the thick hide of the Snowfield Wild Ox as effortlessly as cutting tofu. They pierced the skin, and fresh blood had just begun to seep out when, in the next instant, the little tiger was flung aside by the ox’s violent charge. Fortunately, being a nimble feline, the young tiger managed to cling to the beast’s flank like a passenger hanging from a train in a foreign land.

After the Snowfield Wild Ox barreled forward for a while and attempted to turn, a delayed pain finally registered—the little tiger’s ambush had taken effect, though not as powerfully as hoped. With fully mastered Piercing Claws, and the passive bonuses from several max-level claw-related skills, the ox’s formidable physical defense might as well have been absent. The tiger’s three-centimeter-long claws easily drove through the one-centimeter-thick hide and, hooking into the muscle beneath, formed an anchor point. Its most lethal weapon, its jaws, had only just managed to break through the barrier.

Everyone witnessed this stunning reversal. Many students who had been lounging, waiting to see the little tiger flung from the ring, and even some teachers, leapt to their feet in astonishment. Fang Zizhong had never expected this outcome. Against other adult-ranked monsters, he would not have used his finishing move so openly and brazenly declared it. He had simply assumed the match would be a one-sided affair, given that the little tiger was only at the juvenile stage while his ox had been an adult for several months. Confident of an easy win, he had charged in headlong with his ultimate attack.

He could never have imagined Cheng Yuan would so precisely counter him. By the time Fang came back to his senses, the little tiger, originally clinging to the ox’s side, had already shifted its position like a climber with an ice axe, scrambling onto the ox’s back. Wherever its claws had passed, bright red blood seeped from the wounds, staining the black fur around them like ink dispersing in clear water.

Now, the ox’s charging attack had no effect on the little tiger, and many of its head-on assault skills would be useless as well. Fang Zizhong grew calm as he realized the gravity of the situation. Though it was clear the little tiger could not be above level 14, given its breed’s usual skill set, its damage should be limited. Yet that golden radiance streaming from it was no simple enchantment skill—it indicated a high-level derivative ability. This made the previously straightforward little tiger suddenly unfathomable; if left unchecked, that glowing skill alone could spell disaster for the ox.

Quickly, Fang thought of a solution and shouted, “University, use Ice Armor!” Ice Armor was a skill the Snowfield Wild Ox acquired automatically at level 16. Had he used it from the outset, it would have been difficult for the tiger to cling on, even with advance preparation.

Watching the thick ice rapidly encase the ox’s thighs and climb upward, Cheng Yuan couldn’t help but marvel at the energy reserves of adult-class monsters and the speed at which they could use skills. Yet, with a faint smile, the little tiger lifted a paw high and, with a crisp crack, shattered the several-meters-thick ice with ease. Cheng Yuan called out, “Now it’s our turn to attack.”

A moment later, a tearing sound split the air as the tiger’s claws, working like a compass, ripped open a fresh wound, sending a gush of blood spraying out. The pain, now spread over a wide area, caused the ox to slow down, ignoring Fang’s commands as it tried to halt.

Both Cheng Yuan and Fang Zizhong knew that this decrease in speed spelled disaster. Fang shouted frantically, “Keep charging!” In the wild, the ox could have scraped off its predator by barreling against something at high speed, or simply used its massive body to shake off the small tiger. Here, though, in the pristine ring, there were no obstacles. Against other adult-class monsters, Fang would have had more options—horns, hooves, or jaws could all reach a clinging opponent, and he certainly wouldn’t have led with his ultimate attack. Normally, direct confrontations and skills like Ice Armor would be his main tactics.

The finishing move was reserved for a decisive, one-strike victory. This was the first time he’d faced someone like Cheng Yuan, who gambled everything on a bold, calculated play, seizing precisely the one path to victory when underestimated. As the ox continued its futile charge, Fang suddenly realized he’d been checkmated. The tiger’s ability to shatter Ice Armor with a single blow revealed an attack power on par with an adult monster.

As he saw the tiger carve another swathe through the ox’s hide and the beast still obeyed his commands rather than going berserk, Fang uttered words no one expected: “I concede.”

Cheng Yuan was a little surprised. He knew the ox’s skill set well—at least at level 18, it would have several powerful abilities. And while the little tiger seemed to slice through the ox’s hide with ease, the muscles beneath would still take time to breach. After all, its claws were only three centimeters long.

At Fang’s concession, Cheng Yuan looked up. “Come down, little one.” The tiger leaped from the ox’s back as if disembarking a train, landing straight into Cheng Yuan’s open arms. Fang, resigned, called out, “Snow, stop.”

Cradled in Cheng Yuan’s arms, the young tiger lifted its head proudly while Cheng Yuan, smiling, stroked its head. “Well done.” On the other side, the ox, eyes red, trotted to Fang. It was clearly dissatisfied; against a juvenile monster like the tiger, it should have had plenty of ways to win. Yet one misstep had led to the next, and defeat was sealed.

Fang sighed. He hadn’t expected things to go so wrong. He could only comfort his ox: “Next time, we’ll win for sure.”

Cheng Yuan’s stunning comeback unsettled the once-confident repeat students, who now felt a sense of looming threat. The top-ranked student had intended to conserve strength, waiting to reach King class before crushing the competition and claiming the school’s top spot, then moving on to the capital’s elite academies.

But Cheng Yuan’s rapid progress was alarming. Though everyone recognized that his raw power still lagged behind Fang’s, he had shown he could win against the odds. At this rate, next time—even if the ox gave its all—it might lose again. They all knew well: the Marsh Giant Lizard coiled around Cheng Yuan’s neck had evolved at level 14, a feat far beyond the reach of most insect-type monsters.

Meanwhile, Wang Ningning, flushed with frustration, returned to the classroom, sat at her desk, and fumed. Clenching her fists, she muttered, “Damn it, next time I’ll win for sure. Right, Aba—huh? Oh no, I forgot to bring Aba back!”

At that moment, out on another ring, the Mud Turtle and the Explosive Overlord Turtle were idly playing in the dirt, waiting for their trainer to return for them. There was no relying on a turtle’s speed, especially over such a distance.