Douluo: Shadow Sovereign

(Third person P.O.V)

The training grounds were lively, with students scattered around practicing their moves. The open sparring arena, covered in sand, was surrounded by wooden dummies and weapons racks.

Mo Ling and Wang Sheng stepped into the circle, facing each other. Liu Long and Chen Wu stood at the edge, watching eagerly.

Wang Sheng cracked his knuckles, his confident smirk never leaving his face. "You sure about this, Mo Ling? I don't go easy just because someone's new."

Mo Ling merely smirked. "Good. I'd be disappointed if you did."

Liu Long stepped forward as the unofficial referee. "Alright, standard sparring rules—no serious injuries, and the match ends when one of you is unable to continue or admits defeat. Ready?"

Both fighters nodded, their bodies already shifting into their stances.

"Begin!"

Wang Sheng moved first, his Battle Tiger Martial Spirit giving him a natural advantage in speed and power. He dashed forward with explosive energy, his first punch aimed straight at Mo Ling's face.

But Mo Ling wasn't there anymore.

A sharp sidestep, a blur of movement, and Wang Sheng's fist whistled through empty air. Mo Ling pivoted on his heel and immediately countered, delivering a sharp palm strike toward Wang Sheng's ribs.

Thud!

Wang Sheng grunted but didn't slow down. Instead, he twisted his body, bringing his knee up in a sudden, powerful strike aimed at Mo Ling's stomach. Mo Ling barely managed to evade, shifting just enough so the knee skimmed past his side. But Wang Sheng wasn't done. Using the momentum of his missed attack, he pivoted and launched a sweeping kick aimed to take Mo Ling's legs out from under him.

Mo Ling jumped back, his movements fluid, his breathing steady. His eyes remained locked onto Wang Sheng, analyzing him, reading him. The aggression, the relentless offense—it was expected. Wang Sheng was powerful, but he was direct, attacking head-on without deception.

Chen Wu whistled from the sidelines. "Damn, Mo Ling's quick. It's like Wang Sheng's hitting air."

Wang Sheng, irritated by the constant dodging, growled under his breath. "Stop running and fight me properly!

Mo Ling smirked. "Alright."

The moment Wang Sheng threw his next punch, Mo Ling shifted forward instead of dodging. His hands moved like shadows, parrying the blow before twisting his body and delivering a sharp elbow strike to Wang Sheng's shoulder.

Bam!

Wang Sheng stumbled back, surprised by the sudden impact. He recovered quickly, shaking off the pain, but Mo Ling was already on the move. Taking advantage of Wang Sheng's momentary imbalance, Mo Ling stepped in closer, delivering a clean, precise strike to his opponent's sternum with the heel of his palm.

Thump!

Wang Sheng staggered, his breath hitching for a second before he forced himself back into position. His expression shifted from confidence to determination.

"That was a good hit," Wang Sheng admitted, rolling his shoulder. "But let's see if you can keep up with this."

With renewed energy, Wang Sheng launched forward again, but this time, his movements were less predictable. Instead of straightforward punches, he started mixing in feints—his right hand would twitch, making it seem like he was going to throw a punch, but at the last moment, he'd kick instead.

Mo Ling narrowed his eyes, adjusting to the new rhythm. He dodged a fake-out punch and barely leaned back in time to avoid a sudden upward kick aimed at his chin. Wang Sheng pressed forward, delivering a flurry of attacks, his tiger-like aggression fully unleashed.

Mo Ling knew he couldn't keep dodging forever. It was time to turn the fight in his favor.

The moment Wang Sheng overcommitted to a wide hook, Mo Ling ducked under it and moved in close. Using Wang Sheng's own momentum against him, Mo Ling hooked his foot behind Wang Sheng's ankle and shoved his shoulder into his opponent's chest.

Wang Sheng's balance was completely broken.

Thud!

He crashed onto his back, dust rising around him. The moment he hit the ground, Mo Ling was already above him, pressing his knee lightly against Wang Sheng's chest—just enough to show dominance but not enough to hurt.

A pause.

Then, Wang Sheng exhaled heavily. "…Damn. I lose."

Liu Long grinned. "Match over! Winner—Mo Ling!"

Chen Wu clapped. "That was insane! I barely saw what happened at the end."

Mo Ling stepped back, offering Wang Sheng a hand. Wang Sheng took it with a begrudging grin, pulling himself up. He dusted off his clothes before cracking his neck.

"Alright," Wang Sheng said, rolling his shoulders. "I'll admit it. You're strong."

Mo Ling smiled. "You're not bad yourself."

Wang Sheng's grin widened. "But next time, I won't lose."

Mo Ling smirked. "I'll be waiting."

As they left the training grounds, the other students murmured amongst themselves. A working student with that level of skill? That wasn't something they saw every day.