The small figure stepped in front of him, and for a brief moment, Land was stunned.
As the supreme commander, he had always led the charge into battle himself—never before had anyone shielded him, let alone used such a commanding tone to tell him not to move.
The tiger pelt grass made the eyes of the strange beasts nearly burst; there was nothing left in them but raw, primal instinct. That fire surged from their bodies to their brains and burned at its peak—until, at that exact moment, the neurotoxin of the Overlord Flower set in, dulling their reactions by a half-beat. Above them, the lotus magnolia spirit form provided auxiliary suppression, completely extinguishing the fire of their lust.
The boiling strange beasts were suddenly doused with a bucket of cold water, unable to even finish a single roar.
The most aroused of the beasts gave a violent shudder. What—what happened? Why couldn’t it…?
Looking around—ah, good, turns out none of them could.
When it came to intelligence, these beasts—who stayed behind to live in the icefields after slaughtering primitive tribes—were far inferior to their kin in the outside world. Reproduction and killing were their only instincts.
Accordingly, the effects of Su Cha’s plants were far more potent on them than they would be elsewhere.
“Roar—!”
After the brief joy came furious rage. The few remaining shreds of intelligence told them Su Cha was behind this.
After all, in that bunch of pig-like attackers, only he looked like an actual person.
Su Cha narrowed his eyes and focused on triggering the sedative effect of the Overlord Flower. The beasts’ furious gazes softened in a split second—and in that moment, vines shot like arrows, stabbing straight into their eyes. One beast reflexively spread its wings and soared into the air to avoid the oncoming vines.
The vines had limited reach, but Su Cha appeared completely confident, showing no signs of restraint.
Another beast belatedly lunged for his head, while a second aimed its hooked legs at the vines.
Su Cha quickly withdrew his spirit form’s influence and once more fully activated the tiger pelt grass. The beasts became frenzied again! As they began tearing into one another, Su Cha’s vines shot through one beast’s eye, and he swiftly retreated to avoid the splattering blood.
Then, without hesitation, he moved to another position and repeated the same steps, releasing more of the tiger pelt grass’s scent.
“Up.”
“Steady.”
“Rise.”
“Fall.”
Every beat was timed perfectly. Part of the reason he dared to do all this was because Land was present—even if the strange beasts fighting in the distance suddenly charged at him, Su Cha still had an escape route.
In that moment, whether it was Land, the audience, or even his classmates watching from afar who already knew what was coming—everyone was silent.
Someone in the barrage of bullet comments on StarNet asked a soul-level question: [Just asking—are Fog Star people all this good at this tactic? Does that mean their birth rate is low?]
Too bad Fog Star folks couldn’t see the StarNet comments. Otherwise, they’d definitely say: Your process is all wrong, but your conclusion is spot-on.
After being toyed with several times, one beast, completely bloodthirsty, suddenly dove underground and tunneled toward Su Cha like a giant mole. Land pulled Su Cha back in retreat, leaping higher than any flying beast could, and used the opportunity to begin a rare lesson—explaining Fog Star’s hunting methods in detail.
“The power we use is more refined than typical spiritual force.” As he spoke, Land raised his palm. Silver threads stretched between his fingers—then vanished. The next instant, they reappeared far away and shot straight at the strange beast.
Out of consideration for Su Cha’s presence, Land kept the visuals clean: instead of a gruesome scene, the silver thread merely pierced the beast’s brain core. A single pinpoint of red bloomed on its rough, bumpy skin—and just like that, it collapsed, lifeless.
Clap clap clap.
Su Cha retracted his vines and clapped like a seal: “That was amazing.”
“Your Highness is still young. One day, your strength will far surpass mine.”
But Su Cha gazed passionately at the flower in his arms: “By then, they’ll surely command the stars as well.”
It would’ve been fine if he hadn’t said that—but the moment he did, Land’s expression darkened a few shades. D*mn those Galan Empire people. What have they been teaching their young prince?
If the universe had a will, the Galan Empire would be seeing summer snowfall right now—mourning its unjust suffering.
The distance made it hard to see his expression clearly, but the students understood plenty from his clenched fist… That fist—was aimed squarely at the Empire. Clearly, he was holding the Empire accountable for all of this.
Since today’s event was a competition, Su Cha couldn’t stand beside Land for too long and began making his way back toward the main group.
Strange beasts still roamed the area, and the white tiger burst in to escort him out. Amid falling snowflakes, Su Cha once again rode the tiger across the snow, smoothly regrouping with his classmates.
Some accusations were simply too unfair to accept. Seeing him return, Zhao Shi was the first to mutter, “Hurry and tell him—you invented that move yourself.”
Before Su Cha could assert his intellectual property rights, Ji Tianjin’s spiritual power suddenly surged toward Zhao Shi, expertly weaving around him to block off the path behind.
Zhao Shi hadn’t even registered it before Liu Xiqin grabbed his collar and flung him aside. In the spot where he’d just been standing, a massive boulder stirred without warning—and a thick tail, like a scorpion’s, shot out from it.
“Holy—” Realizing he’d just missed death by about 0.01 seconds, Zhao Shi tried hard to suppress the look of lingering fear on his face.
This strange beast had camouflaged itself remarkably well. Even when others had walked past earlier, it hadn’t stirred a bit. Not only had Zhao Shi failed to notice it—even the live-stream audience barely caught anything.
It looked slightly different from the other strange beasts—larger in size, but able to tuck its wide joints beneath a layer of fleshy membrane.
Ji Tianjin drew his dagger and raised his arm to shield himself. “Careful. This one’s undergone postnatal mutation.”
To achieve such evolution, it must’ve devoured at least one dual-S-ranked fighter.
Su Cha released his spirit form, but the soothing effect was minimal. The mutated beast’s will to fight remained strong.
Above the clouds, a warship hovered silently, its cannons already locked onto the threat.
“Mutated strange beast detected, beyond student capacity—request permission to fire?”
The commanding officer zoomed in on one section of the display and shook his head. “Someone will handle it.”
Even if Ji Tianjin hadn’t reacted in time, Zhao Shi wouldn’t have died. Land could’ve stopped it remotely with his telekinesis.
“In the face of absolute power, schemes really are useless.” Su Cha was a little disappointed—three types of flora working together still couldn’t subdue a single mutated strange beast.
Before he could finish his thought, the beast that had just seemed so unstoppable was suddenly yanked into the air by a mysterious force, then slammed violently into the ground. Land approached at a steady pace, every movement of the Fog Star native as graceful as a symphony conductor, not a killer.
“Showing no respect to His Highness’s plants? Then you deserve to die.” Silver threads embedded themselves into countless points on the beast’s body—it looked painful just to watch.
The wounded beast let out a piercing screech. Its injuries dulled its willpower, and the lingering scent of tiger pelt grass in the air finally affected it. It lunged toward the nearest female beast.
Just as it was about to get what it wanted, the same scene played out again—it was hurled high into the air, then slammed into the ground.
Land appeared beside it, casually grabbing an exposed artery with his bare hand, his expression icy. “To go into heat in front of His Highness? You deserve to die.”
Zhao Shi, who had watched the entire thing, was at a loss for words. “It didn’t even have a choice…”
“Kindness is a virtue,” Su Cha said seriously, “but Zhao Shi—your kindness needs to have an edge.”
“…”
Zhao Shi silently stepped aside. A friend of his ghosted over like a spirit and whispered, “On the way back, let’s ask Instructor Land to watch The Little Mermaid with us.”
Zhao Shi’s eyebrow shot up: “Great idea.”
If they’d once cared about winning the competition, that had all gone off the rails since Su Cha’s dazzling entrance. Now, the students only wanted to pass on their collective frustration—like playing hot potato—with the final recipient being Land.
Su Cha, still the overall commander, stuck to his duties. He checked the time: “Twenty minutes left.”
Most students had already used up the energy from their afternoon feedings during the first wave of attacks. Recharging them again in just twenty minutes was flat-out impossible—maybe not even two hours would be enough.
Su Cha himself was exhausted, both physically and spiritually, after pushing his flora to their limits. Under such conditions, relying on traditional tactics to win was hopeless.
He turned to Ji Tianjin and Rong Shao nearby. “Any bright ideas?”
Rong Shao jumped in first: “How about you go turn on the charm?”
“…”
“I stake my head on it,” Rong Shao continued, “It’s a basic and cheesy move—but it works.”
Ignoring him, Su Cha tried to rally everyone. “Don’t give up, guys. A few hours ago, didn’t we all say we’d never let ourselves be underestimated again?”
Everyone reflected on the chaos of the past forty minutes. Even if they won now, it wouldn’t change much. Enough random blame had already rained down on them from the heavens today.
At that moment, Ji Tianjin finally spoke: “Let’s clean up the earlier wave first.”
The strange beasts driven mad by the tiger pelt grass had torn each other apart, both sides suffering heavy losses. Knowing Land, he wouldn’t bother stealing kills from them. Soon, intense combat flared up again across the frozen field.
No longer serving as Su Cha’s mount, the white tiger unleashed its full strength.
Ji Tianjin, in sync with his spirit form, took down a beast mid-air. Its massive corpse crashed into the ice lake, shattering the hard surface. Water splashed several meters high, and in the bloody water, Su Cha glimpsed long-buried white bones—human or beast, he couldn’t tell.
He didn’t stay idle. Throwing out vines, he prepared to join the fight.
Just then, the mutated beast Land had subdued earlier came crashing down in an impossible arc—straight toward Su Cha’s vines. Su Cha quickly redirected them, and the beast turned with them. Its chest was already caved in. In the end, it seemed to intentionally pass through the vines—and died on the spot.
Mutated beasts were worth big points, and Su Cha’s wristband score instantly skyrocketed.
Off to the side, Land flexed his joints and casually said: “Oops. Slipped.”
Su Cha forced a smile.
That was a slip? It even curved mid-air!
Helpless, he had to go over and persuade him. “Competition is about the honor of fighting. Don’t go easy.”
“His Highness’s honor is my honor,” Land replied coolly, perfectly executing a one-to-one exchange.
He believed he’d already struck a good balance. Land had initially put in real effort to create a sense of tension in the competition. But seeing the students growing slack, he decided to take the lead himself.
Realizing he couldn’t change Land’s mind, Su Cha went off to a more distant spot.
Land changed tactics and staged another “slip.” Yet another beast veered wildly in midair and landed right in front of the white tiger. The tiger blinked in confusion at this near-dead prey that practically delivered itself.
Land: “Let us defend His Highness’s honor—together.”
White Tiger: “…”
