The Pseudo-Human Academy: Starting with a Bricklayer Personality

Blood streaks tore through the night sky, pressing down densely onto the eaves, almost completely blocking Peter Pan's escape route.

With a rose between his lips, he swiftly drew back his longbow, unleashing a barrage of demon-slaying arrows.

The arrows formed a net, shattering most of the enemy's health bar.

Stone fragments and blood mist flew everywhere, and the students below cheered at the ranger's superb archery skills.

"Well done! Little Flying Stick Instructor held firm!"

But Fei Luolia had already been completely consumed by a thousand years of hatred, and there was no pause whatsoever.

The remaining blood threads suddenly coalesced, transforming into several thick blood whips that lashed fiercely at the eaves.

Peter Pan lightly touched the tile with his toes, leaping gracefully to narrowly avoid the first blow.

But the blood spikes that followed came like a torrential rain.

A sharp thorn grazed his left arm, tearing through his clothes and instantly creating a deep gash in his flesh. Scalding vampire magic seeped into his meridians through the wound.

With a muffled groan, Peter Pan staggered back a few steps, his arm holding the bow going numb, and he could barely hold the bowstring steady.

He had thought that at most he would be able to subdue a student whose magic had gone berserk.

After all, the other party looked so young, but he never expected that the other party's strength would be so terrifying.

Before he could catch his breath, the second wave of attacks came crashing down on him.

Several blood-red chains coiled in mid-air, firmly locking his legs, and suddenly pulled him downwards.

"Oh no!"

Peter Pan hastily swung his sword to sever the blood lock, but he was a fraction too slow and was struck in the chest by another bloody blade.

The thick ranger's leather armor was instantly ripped open, and blood immediately soaked through the clothes.

He could no longer maintain his elegant demeanor, and the rose in his mouth fell onto the roof tiles.

The force of the impact sent him flying, and he crashed heavily onto the courtyard ground, rolling several times before finally coming to a stop.

The once-powerful swordsman was left injured in just a few moves.

Filonia's crimson gaze was fixed on him, and she murmured softly over and over again:

"Felder in his ranger form..."

Despite her calm tone, one could sense the immense rage emanating from this vampire queen through the terrifying aura she exuded.

The situation was extremely critical, and Peter Pan could no longer worry about anything else.

He immediately drew his bow and shot an arrow at Floria.

However, Filonia didn't even look at the incoming arrows; they were immediately lashed away by the blood vines growing from her feet.

The arrow returned along its original path with a whooshing sound, and with a soft thud, struck Peter Pan directly in the knee.

"Oh no, kids, I've been shot in the knee! Time to get out of here!"

A new wave of blood spikes gathered, about to pierce the fallen Peter Pan.

The students below screamed in terror.

However, Peter Pan's figure transformed directly into a green whirlwind.

He sped away from the battlefield, and his escape appeared much more agile than before the arrow struck his knee.

The students didn't need to worry at all; Peter Pan disappeared in the blink of an eye.

"Don't be afraid, children, I'm here!"

A deep, steady roar pierced the chaotic night sky.

A middle-aged man dressed in coarse linen clothes and carrying a rusty iron sword at his waist strode out of the woods.

His skin was dark, and his palms were covered with thick calluses from years of wielding swords and tilling the fields. Despite being dressed as a farmer, he exuded an incomparably sharp sword aura.

Simply standing still made the howling wind pause for a moment.

The panicked students in the college were instantly filled with hope. Some of them recognized the person at a glance and shouted excitedly.

"Great! It's a swordsmanship instructor!"

"That's the sword saint uncle who lives in seclusion in the countryside! I've heard about his legendary deeds before, back when the demons launched a massive invasion of the border."

"Because he disliked the demon army disturbing his farming, he single-handedly took up a cast-iron longsword and single-handedly defeated an entire vanguard of the demon king's army, defending the crumbling border city!"

"He clearly possesses terrifying strength at the level of a sword saint, yet he grew weary of conflict and retreated to the countryside to farm and live in seclusion. Later, he was hired by the academy for a hefty sum to teach. With him involved, we are absolutely safe!"

Cheers erupted as the students, who had just witnessed the consecutive defeats of Serius and Peter Pan, finally saw a glimmer of hope again.

In everyone's eyes, the reclusive swordsman before them was their last resort.

The country swordsman uncle raised his hand and pressed it against the iron sword at his waist. His expression was gentle as he looked at Fei Luolia, who was enveloped in blood-red energy. He tried to keep his tone calm so as not to escalate the conflict.

"Little girl, I can sense that your magic has completely spiraled out of control."

"You have accumulated too much hatred in your heart, which is why your mind has been consumed by resentment."

"It's not right for magic to run rampant and hurt people, child. Don't be afraid, I'll help you suppress the rampaging magic and calm your mind."

He originally intended to envelop his opponent with layers of the Sword Saint's powerful sword energy.

Gradually guide the restless magic of the girl before you, and calm her down.

However, at this moment, all that remained in Filonia's eyes was the phantom of her nemesis.

The simple, honest farmer-swordsman before her eyes had transformed into the Ninth True Ancestor, Feld, in her eyes.

She slightly raised her chin, her scarlet pupils blazing with murderous intent, and uttered a few words expressionlessly:

"Feld in his Sword Saint form..."

Before he finished speaking, countless crimson spikes suddenly burst forth, piercing through the Sword Saint's sword energy without any hesitation, and hurtling straight at the Sword Saint's face.

The country swordsman's expression changed slightly. He never expected that the other party would not listen to even half a word of explanation and would attack with a killing move.

He hastily drew his sword, and a fierce sword aura exploded out, the blade colliding violently with the blood spike.

A series of ear-piercing clangs of metal clashing echoed through the courtyard. The Sword Saint, relying on his years of combat experience, parried the attacks one after another, barely managing to withstand the first wave of attacks.

But Felonia's power far exceeded his expectations. The violent vampire power rebounded along the sword's edge, causing his tiger's mouth to crack and his arm to go numb.

Before he could catch his breath, the second wave of blood lines transformed into a long whip and lashed out fiercely. Caught off guard, he was struck in the chest by the tip of the whip.

His thick cloth robe was instantly torn apart, and a cold, blood-red magic invaded his meridians, disrupting the sword energy he had cultivated for many years.

"Pfft!"

A mouthful of blood gushed from the Sword Saint's mouth, and he staggered backward, unable to hold onto the iron sword anymore, which fell to the ground with a clatter.

The sword saint uncle's proud sword energy was mostly shattered by the violent blood force, and his blood and qi surged, making it very difficult for him to even stand still.

His prized swordsmanship proved utterly ineffective against the completely mad Floria.

The students watching fell silent instantly, followed by a chorus of desperate screams.

"Oh no! Even the country swordsman uncle has been defeated!"