12,531 kilograms?

Are you insane?

Eight and a half months since the start of school—just eight and a half months of cultivation. How could any student possibly achieve that? Not even a Demon-Kin could pull that off.

That was the thought running through the minds of nearly everyone present as they stared at the number glowing on the Sky Pillar.

In the livestream, Gangshan said in surprise, “Who's up next? They're actually going to challenge 12,531 kilograms on the Sky Pillar?”

Beside him, Le Jingchen replied coolly, “The only contestant left to go up… must be Zhang Yu from Songyang High.”

Gangshan’s eyes widened. “That kid from Songyang? Didn’t he only manage around 7,000 kilograms in the last round? Now he’s suddenly jumping to 12,531? Is he not worried about getting crushed to death?”

“And that exact number—down to the last kilogram… Is he saying he knows his limit that precisely?”

Le Jingchen didn’t respond—because he didn’t get it either.

“Maybe it’s... a marketing gimmick? Some kind of joke promo?”

“White Dragon High and the Xianyun Group must be using some new marketing strategy I don’t understand.”

…

Over on Wang Hai’s side, the tension was reaching a boil. “What the hell is that kid thinking? 12,531 kilograms? Can he even hold that up right now?”

“He’ll get himself killed!”

“What kind of premium insurance did he buy to even dare this?”

Just imagining that monstrous weight slamming down, Wang Hai could picture Zhang Yu getting maimed the moment he tried to hold it up. Without hesitation, he rushed toward the arena.

If anything happened to his student, Wang Hai would be held responsible.

Especially if the kid didn’t die, but still ended up burning through all his money.

Wang Hai didn’t want to see such a talented student crash and burn on a freshman stage, his future ruined by a single hospital bill.

He tried to stop Zhang Yu, but was blocked by event staff.

While Wang Hai struggled with them, the other contestants all turned to look at Zhang Yu in astonishment.

Le Mulan stared at his back, her flushed, dizzy head spinning with random thoughts. “Could he have filled in the wrong number?”

Song Hailong was burning with curiosity. “Zhang Yu doesn’t seem like an idiot… What is he up to?”

Yu Xinghan, confident that his physical body and muscle control were the best on-site, stared at Zhang Yu and scoffed inwardly. “This guy’s bluffing. At his level, there's no way he can pull that off.”

Hu Yuntao looked utterly dismissive, equally skeptical that Zhang Yu could lift 12,531 kilograms on the Sky Pillar.

He turned to make a snide comment to Xiong Wenwu—only to find the latter had already fainted.

At that moment, countless eyes locked onto Zhang Yu. All attention converged on him like a tidal wave of pressure, so heavy it felt tangible.

Just watching from afar gave Zhao Tianxing goosebumps; he wanted to crawl into a hole for Zhang Yu.

But Zhang Yu, at that moment, seemed oblivious to everyone in the arena.

He simply waved calmly toward the gym entrance—and took delivery of a takeout order from a Purple Cloud High teacher.

It was the medicine he’d ordered just before the final round began.

Despite paying extra for a Qi Refining stage courier, the delivery had been stuck at the school gate. Only now had it finally made it through.

Zhang Yu slowly unwrapped three syringes from the delivery box and injected them one by one into his body.

He quietly assessed the state of his muscles and flesh. “After all, this is 12,531 kilograms—we’ll need a little pharmaceutical support.”

Seeing Zhang Yu inject himself, Wang Hai’s heart sank. “What the hell is he taking? Why’s he using anything at all? Pushing through like this could ruin him for good!”

To most of the audience, the drugs were clearly his crutch.

Watching him walk calmly toward the platform, Bai Zhenzhen silently cheered: “Go get ‘em, Yuzi! Bring home the prize money, the sponsorships, the endorsements—and the damn spot in the Ten Great Academies!”

In the livestream, Gangshan was getting pumped. “Zhang Yu’s physical rating is 4.95, right? At 12,531 kilograms, even the smallest mistake could lead to serious injuries.”

Le Jingchen nodded. “Forcing the body past its limits to hold up a Sky Pillar like that—it’s almost impossible. One misstep in posture or exertion could snap tendons or shatter bones.”

Gangshan added solemnly, “So he’s not just testing his strength. He’s testing his technique—and betting on it with his health and even his Immortal Path potential.”

…

Onstage.

Zhang Yu slowly looked up at the base of the Sky Pillar.

Though the arena buzzed with noise and countless eyes burned into his back… Though this final challenge would shape his future, determine which academy he’d attend, and affect corporate strategy…

At this moment, Zhang Yu’s mind was utterly clear.

And as he activated Full Focus Mode through the Celestial Martial Heart-Forging Technique, his spirit locked in tighter than ever before.

The world turned black and white, and in Zhang Yu’s eyes, only two things remained: the Sky Pillar before him—and his own body.

His heart thundered steadily. Muscles and bones pulsed with vitality, supercharged by blood and medicine.

No doubt about it—after his heart’s breakthrough in the last round and 90 minutes of development time, his body was at peak condition.

His physical strength had even risen from 4.95 to 4.96.

Now, with his heart no longer a weak link, his entire body had reached a perfect balance—ready to unleash every ounce of power it held.

“All that’s left,” he thought, “is to execute.”

This was one of the rare moments where Zhang Yu entered Full Focus Mode not during high-speed combat, but purely to channel strength.

He reached out as the Sky Pillar began its snail-like descent.

Placing a single finger on its base, he immediately felt an oceanic weight come crashing down—flooding through him and into the platform.

The moment he resisted, even slightly, the pressure surged between the Sky Pillar above and the platform below. It was like being caught in the jaws of a massive beast.

Then—with a powerful brace from both palms—Zhang Yu began to hold the pillar.

His body was hardened, forged through endless training.

But in his heightened perception, his body now felt fragile beneath the Sky Pillar’s weight.

His arms, shoulders, spine, legs, and every muscle fiber seemed to tremble with fragility. One wrong move, and they’d shatter under the strain.

As the Sky Pillar pressed lower, Zhang Yu kept adjusting his form:

His arms couldn’t brute-force it—they had to redirect tension.

His spine couldn’t hold it straight on—it had to absorb shock.

His legs had to redistribute the pressure.

He felt like he was assembling a tower of muscle blocks, precisely rearranging every component of his body to support that overwhelming pressure from above.

Only this tower was made of his own flesh, and under that power, every inch felt like it might shatter like glass.

“Almost there…”

“Just a little more…”

Zhang Yu’s brain worked at lightning speed. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he constantly adjusted and balanced forces.

All the while, the Sky Pillar continued to descend.

It and the platform formed a slowly closing maw, and Zhang Yu was walking a tightrope above it—one misstep from being devoured.

But panic had no place here.

Fully immersed, Zhang Yu felt his thoughts growing sharper. The ‘force’ became clearer and more vivid in his eyes.

The Sky Pillar’s center of gravity, the flow of strength through his muscles, the support of every fiber of flesh…

He understood it all.

Under this crushing weight, Zhang Yu made a breakthrough.

Pulling, shifting, redirecting, exploding—every technique from his 10-grade Techniques merged into one seamless rhythm.

He could see the flows of power—balancing, weaving, converging.

A spark lit up in his eyes. Every nerve, muscle, and bone felt struck by lightning.

“I can feel it… I can see it…”

“All the power…”

As every muscle fiber burst into action, Zhang Yu’s body entered an unprecedented state of equilibrium.

His skin, bones, and flesh—all worked in unison to bear the terrifying downward force.

12,531 kilograms exploded through him, yet his body—like a fragile yet unyielding statue—held it aloft.

He was fragile, because any misalignment would shatter that balance and his body with it.

He was strong, because every cell in him surged to the limit, like rebar pushing up against the Sky Pillar.

And so, under the stunned gazes of the crowd, Zhang Yu slowly straightened his back and bore the Sky Pillar on his shoulders.

First second—

His bones cracked, skin split, blood welled up across his body.

Third second—

His organs began to bleed internally.

Fifth second—

Blood streamed from his lips, eyes, and nose—but he smiled.

Because he had lifted the Sky Pillar.

At that moment, he embodied the strongest power on the field.

…

In the audience, Yu Xinghan stared at Zhang Yu’s body—at every muscle, every contour.

He didn’t see an ordinary physique anymore.

He saw perfection. Technique honed to its peak. A comprehension of strength that surpassed his own.

At that moment, Yu Xinghan knew: he had lost.

In the realm of bodily power and control, he had been defeated.

Zhang Yu had wagered his flesh—and won.

When the Sky Pillar slowly rose away, Zhang Yu’s body was battered everywhere—but intact.

And because the damage was so evenly spread, he hadn’t suffered serious trauma.

Wang Hai and Bai Zhenzhen rushed the stage.

Wang Hai examined Zhang Yu’s condition, then sucked in a sharp breath.

“These injuries are… light? He could recover without even needing treatment. No—wait. This isn’t just light. He stopped just shy of causing a chain reaction. A little more damage and it could’ve been hundreds of thousands—or even a million—in medical bills.”

“This kid… He controlled his injuries to stay just below the serious-damage threshold…”

As a top-tier athletics coach, Wang Hai knew the human body inside and out.

And that’s why he knew just how incredible Zhang Yu’s injuries really were.

There was only one explanation—

Genius.

“Absolute genius. Absolute control and potential in the use of physical power.”

“This Zhang Yu… is the most gifted and most valuable student I’ve ever coached.”