Moye Takes the Championship
"How boring." Xu Lingqu stood up and fired a single shot, finishing off Jia Xianglan, who lay on the ground with an incredulous expression.
She had no penchant for torture—she was just helping him play out his little act. Who knew Jia Xianglan would crack so soon?
Inside the Federation arena, Jia Xianglan was still sweating as he disconnected from the simulation. He didn't bother wiping the cold sweat from his brow, instead trembling as he reached for his fingers to confirm they were still intact.
Xu Lingqu was a demon.
At the last moment, he finally realized her true intention: she deliberately made him reveal his true self on camera, ruining his carefully constructed image. If Jia Xianglan had endured the slicing of all ten fingers without choosing the civilians, his persona would have been solidified.
Unfortunately, he couldn't hold on—and Xu Lingqu had already known he couldn't, which was exactly why she did it.
A wave of murderous intent surged in Jia Xianglan's heart. He pounded the armrest of his cockpit twice, vowing that he would make Xu Lingqu pay for what she had done... Tomorrow, in the mech arena, he would make her regret her actions today!
But for now, his biggest problem was the collapse of the image he'd worked so hard to project... Still, the Federation viewers should understand, right?
No matter how he looked at it, Xu Lingqu was the one who'd gone too far.
Jia Xianglan stepped out of the competition cockpit and was met with a silent arena.
Not a word was spoken. He looked around awkwardly—but the thunderous applause that had greeted Cheng Xing moments before did not come for him.
Everyone simply stared at him in silence.
No one rebuked him, and no one praised him. It was as if a black sheep had emerged from the family, and since no one could immediately sever ties, everyone chose to remain silent about the matter. Bringing it up would only add to the frustration and discomfort.
Embarrassed, Jia Xianglan left the arena, his anger toward Xu Lingqu burning even fiercer.
In the final moments of the championship, with thirty minutes left on the clock, the ordinary NPCs began to vote.
As the countdown hit zero, the system tallied the votes: out of the final 140,000 people, 120,000 voted for the Moye side. In the end, Moye Military Academy won the championship with an overwhelming margin.
In an instant, the entire Imperial arena erupted in frenzy. The Sky Network livestream lagged so badly that even the barrage comments couldn't get through. Cheers spread across every corner of the Empire, and even the Military Department was filled with passionate shouts.
Inside the arena, Vice Principal Su Li, Instructor Kai Ang, and Instructor Chen all shed tears. The years of pain, struggle, and unease dissolved into foam at that moment, washed away by the joy of victory. Those who had held fast in the darkness were now bathed in the light of dawn.
In the VIP section, the participating cadets—whether from the Empire or the Federation—shared in Moye's joy. Moye had broken the Federation's long-standing monopoly on the military academy league championship, so this victory was a point of pride for every Imperial academy.
Inside the arena, as the Moye students emerged from their cockpits, a dazzling display of fireworks and colorful confetti engulfed them, as if the love of everyone present had materialized and descended upon them.
In the commentary booth, the four commentators—except for Senior Colonel Ren, who remained composed—were already in tears, all three being highly empathetic hosts.
"Oh my goodness, I really didn't expect this. I thought the Imperial academies might finally take the championship from the Federation, but I never imagined it would be Moye," Professor Zhuang stammered, almost incoherent. "And because it's Moye, I find it hard to calm down right now. Winning this championship carries extraordinary significance for them."
Lieutenant Quan wiped his eyes. "I have a comrade who graduated from Moye during General Shengshu's tenure as principal. Last year, I went drinking with him and we watched the league. When Moye lost, he showed no emotion. But when he saw the Moye students fleeing in disgrace in the desert map, he wept. He said to me, 'Why are this year's Moye students like this? General Shengshu once told us that the soldiers who come out of Moye aren't necessarily the strongest, but they are definitely the hardest-boned!' My emotions now aren't just because the championship belongs to the Empire, but because of Moye's performance in this final. This year's Moye is the hardest-boned and the strongest!"
"The Blade of the Empire, unstoppable in all directions—this year, Moye's performance throughout the entire league has lived up to these eight words, especially Xu Lingqu," Teacher Chang sniffled. "My goodness, she really is like the sharpest sword in the world, striking straight at enemy vital points. When she quietly commands, the sword sits in its sheath, calm and steady. But when she acts, the blade is drawn, its edge gleaming. Honestly, for Best Commander and Best Individual Combatant this year, giving both to her would be no issue. My vote is definitely going to her."
"What about Best Analyst?" Lieutenant Quan couldn't help but interject.
"It seems Best Analyst can't go to the commander, so that award might as well go to Jinfang Taibai..." Teacher Chang nodded.
"I'm very grateful to this year's Moye and to Xu Lingqu for creating this miracle-like viewing experience for us. To be honest, I still feel like I'm dreaming," said Senior Colonel Ren, the only one not crying. "As for Xu Lingqu's performance this league, all I can say is that after tomorrow's arena, the heads of various military departments will likely be waiting for her in the VIP section. From watching the qualifiers, I already sensed that her opponents are no longer just the students of this league. She is destined to stand at the very top and carve out her own legend."
Xu Lingqu's competition cockpit opened a little late again, but this time it wasn't because she had fallen asleep—the cockpit itself had gotten stuck.
On the fourth attempt, Xu Lingqu was already considering breaking it open by force. Fortunately, the cockpit seemed to take the hint and finally opened.
Everyone was waiting for her. Without exaggeration, the entire galaxy's attention was on her. The cheers subsided, and all waited for Xu Lingqu to say something.
Xu Lingqu considered herself not very good at handling situations like this. Her earlier decision to self-destruct the mother nest and get out first was partly to avoid this very scene.
But in the end, she had survived to emerge. With a mental sigh, she faced all that expectation and chose to stoke the fire with four simple words.
"See you in the arena."