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  After ten minutes of agonized waiting, the herald came out from behind the crowd.

  “Let us begin.” The veil closed the stone archway.

  Chapter 427

  “Welcome to ‘The Holy Sky’ School exams,” a man in gray clothes rose from the center seat at the table. “We are all happy to see that you chose our School to test your power in and perhaps even progress further along the path of cultivation. Whatever happens today, I can assure you that all of you have already achieved a lot. Only one in a thousand can climb to the level of a Heaven Soldier before the age of sixteen!”

  Hadjar decided that he didn’t want to try and calculate the approximate number of Heaven Soldiers in the Darnassus Empire. Their number surely exceeded the combined ranks of all the armies of Lidus. Such power was frightening as well as shocking and didn’t even factor in those true cultivators that had left the Heaven Soldier level behind.

  “We’ll start our examination immediately,” the man continued. “Dalit, you know what to do.”

  “Yes, Master Jean,” the robed young man said disgustedly, and muttered: “What a stupid thing to do…”

  “You will now be directly subjected to the power of one of our inner circle disciples.” The Master said calmly. Whispers of surprise and admiration went through the ranks of hopeful prospects and spectators. The inner circle disciples of ‘The Holy Sky’ School had an immeasurably high status. “Those who can’t withstand it will be immediately expelled from our School.”

  Hadjar, dipping back into the World River, looked at the young man named Dalit. Through the River, he looked like a massive tree full of power. His accursed meridians were almost twice as thick as the Predatory Blades clan guy’s had been and he was at the middle stage of the Spirit Knight level.

  “Start when-”

  Before the examiner could give the command, Dalit placed his hand down on the table casually. The thick wooden tabletop crumbled into splinters, forming a hole in the shape of a hand. The examiners leapt to their feet, but Hadjar didn’t see them do so. He felt as if a mountain had been dropped on his shoulders, and at the same time, as if someone had slapped his soul hard enough to rattle it.

  By the High Heavens, this boy, who was no older than twenty, could’ve fought Traves on equal terms and easily defeated the dragon! Sunshine Sankesh and Ragar would’ve been nothing more than a nuisance to him.

  Hadjar had to use all of his energy, but even then, he could only push the ‘mountain’ away briefly, and couldn’t throw it off his shoulders. The people around him, spitting blood, fell to their knees or even completely collapsed. They were instantly enveloped in green sparks and disappeared. Apparently, they’d been sent back to the square below.

  After just seven seconds of enduring the pressure, only one and a half of the twenty thousand initial exam takers remained.

  Dalit, as if he hadn’t played cat and mouse enough already, placed his other hand down on the table as well. The pressure immediately increased fivefold. Now Hadjar, too, was down on one knee, forced to bow by the young man’s power. Clenching his teeth and snarling like a wounded beast, he reached for the hilt of his simple sword. Summoning his knowledge of the Way of the Sword, he imagined it merging with his energy to form a sword around his body.

  The broad, sharp blade swaddled him. Compared to the mountain that was Dalit’s power, it looked like a reed swaying in the wind, but even so, it slightly weakened the pressure. It was almost imperceptible, but enough for Hadjar to hold out for another three seconds. As he fought against the enormous power, he couldn’t hear the examiners’ discussion.

  “Why is Dalit with us today?” One of them asked.

  “He made a bet with someone,” the chief examiner answered. “He claimed that he could ensure that only a tenth of the disciples we normally get enter our School this year.”

  “So be it,” the man sitting on the far end chuckled. “These incompetent weaklings are only fit to fetch water and iron our clothes. We have enough servants already. How many ordinary disciples do we have? Twenty, forty thousand?”

  “Thirty-seven thousand and six hundred,” the lead examiner said. “That’s barely enough to gather all the resources we need from the Forest of Shadows and the Valley of Swamps. Or will you, honorable Markin, go out and get your ingredients yourself?”

  Markin didn’t reply. He glanced at Dalit, who was ranked as the ninth strongest disciple of the School, sighed, and propped his chin dejectedly on his hand. The only entertainment he’d have in the near future was to watch the flashes of green sparks light up around the nonentities who had come to take the exam.

  Mentor Jean was right: Markin didn’t want to waste his precious time on menial work, and neither did dozens of other Mentors and inner circle disciples. That was why the school recruited so many pseudo disciples. They weren’t allowed to attend lectures, visit the libraries, the Treasury, or the Armory. They couldn’t even walk around the School grounds freely. Only a faint hope kept these wretches from abandoning their hopeless pursuit.

  Those who became ordinary disciples almost never progressed further. It was impossible for people of their level of power and talent.

  Suddenly, several people caught Markin’s eye. Despite the fact that Dalit was already using seventy-five percent of his maximum power, about a dozen examinees were still able to stay on their feet and seemed to be fighting against the pressure.

  Every year, some modestly talented people came here, only to perish in the Forest of Shadows or the Valley of Swamps.

  “That’s enough, Dalit.”

  The personal disciple of one of the School’s Mentors raised his hands. The pressure disappeared and the examinees sucked in air greedily. There were about three hundred of them left in the square now. If Dalit had used even the weakest of his Techniques, nobody knew how many of them would’ve lost their lives after just one attack.

  “May I leave now, Mentor Jean?” The young man’s tone was still bored and annoyed.

  “Yes.”

  Dalit rose, took a step to the side, and… disappeared into thin air. He moved so quickly that he didn’t disturb the grass or even make a sound.

  Hadjar had never seen anything like it. Breathing heavily and wiping the sweat from his brow, he wasn’t discouraged or afraid. On the contrary, he thanked the High Heavens for the opportunity to test himself so completely. The greater the pressure, the stronger the steel became. The same theory applied to cultivators. Only by overcoming the impossible could a person become capable of the unthinkable.

  “Congratulations! You’ve passed the first test.” Mentor Jean clapped twice. “Now on to the second part. You need to come up to this ball and touch it. Those who are older than sixteen will also be expelled from our school grounds.”

  The examinees lined up without a fuss. One by one, they went over to the ball on the tripod and, upon touching it, tensed in anticipation. If nothing happened for three seconds, one of the Mentors led them over to the prepared circles that were each a different color.

  “We came to the right place, my friend.” Einen whispered. “I sense many people here who could defeat me with ease.”

  “Yep.” Hadjar agreed.

  “We should make the most of this opportunity.”

  Einen walked over to the ball. He put his hand on it and waited anxiously. Large drops of sweat rolled down his forehead. A second later, the rainbow haze began to move. The islander held his breath and Hadjar prayed to the High Heavens. The rainbow haze clung to the inside of the ball. It took the shape of Einen’s hand and... moved back.

  One of the Mentors led the islander over to the gray circle.

  Hadjar came up to the ball after his friend. In his case, the ball held the shape of his palm for a second longer, but also retreated. Another Mentor led him to the black circle.

  During the simple procedure, a sizeable number of people were eliminated. Some of them had used artifacts, trying to hide their age. The rainbow haze electrocuted them. Still writhi
ng around on the floor in agony, they were enveloped in green sparks and then disappeared. Others, who’d simply decided to try their luck, were immediately sent back to the city. There were also those whom the haze, stretching out like a snake, would beat with a force comparable to fully-fledged lashes of the whip. Howling in pain, they too disappeared in a shower of sparks.

  As a result, after getting acquainted with the ball, only a couple hundred people remained in the exam.

  Chapter 428

  “I want to congratulate all of you once again on your accomplishments,” Mentor Jean said, applauding. He stood in the black circle, where Hadjar was. The other examiners also walked over to their groups. “You have to pass one last test. After that, you’ll become a part of our School. Who knows, you may even be able to advance and become a fully-fledged disciple, or go even further in the future!”

  The bored skepticism on the other examiners’ faces didn’t escape Hadjar’s notice. They clearly didn’t think it possible. Hadjar smiled. So be it. Even if no ordinary disciple had ever become an inner circle disciple before, Hadjar would be the first to reach the top of the ranks from the bottom rungs. It was the only way he could fulfill his vows.

  At that moment, Hadjar’s eyes flashed with a determination so strong and sharp that it was able to attract the attention of Examiner Markin. Looking at the ragged man in dirty clothes, he noticed the red tattoo on his arm. His eyes widened in surprise. A Name? Here? Among these incompetents, whose power was barely enough to allow them to be ranked as mere losers?

  A moment later, his surprise turned to joy. What luck! He had been searching for a Named One for a long time. However, the stronger a Named One was, the harder it was to strip them of their Name.

  I only need sixteen more Names to complete the Hundred Voices pill. With it, I can break through to the next level of Weapon Mastery!

  Still looking disinterested, the examiner began to watch the ragged man. He didn’t care whether the man passed the last test or not. The examiner wondered what kind of hardships this ragged man had gone through if he had such a strong heart at such a young age. Unfortunately, his experience wouldn’t help him against Markin. It was sad, though. By harnessing such willpower and talent, he might’ve overcome the shackles of his worthlessness… Such a bright and strong Name would be the perfect ingredient for his Hundred Voices pill. As soon as Markin found the other fifteen Named Ones he needed, he would come for the vagabond. It was unlikely that he would be able to become strong enough to resist the Soul Technique of a cultivator at the initial stage of the Lord level in that time.

  “Your last test will be the simplest, and at the same time, the most difficult,” Mentor Jean waved his hand.

  Hadjar could only sense a small disturbance in the energy flow, but he didn’t understand what was going on. Prompted by a wave of the examiner’s hand, a tall stele appeared in the center of each circle. They seemed to have grown out of the ground, as if the sand had suddenly compressed into a single stone monolith.

  “The steles you see before you are incredibly strong. Anyone who can even scratch one will be granted one of these.”

  Mentor Jean held up his hand. A triangular medallion glinted between his fingers. Made of silver, it had a small stone in the center of a complex pattern. Another wave of whispers rose up among the examinees. It was their first time seeing the medallion of ‘The Holy Sky’ School and it was difficult for them to believe that all they had to do to get it was leave the slightest of cuts on a stele.

  “Excuse me, honorable Mentor Jean,” a young man of about fifteen stepped forward. “Did I hear you correctly? In order to become a disciple at your school, I only need to scratch this stele?”

  “Yes, that’s right, young warrior. Just keep in mind that you, like everyone else, will only have one try. So, I would advise you to use your strongest Technique.”

  The examiner’s response still didn’t calm the young man down.

  “What about an artifact? Can I use my artifact?”

  “Yes, you can,” Mentor Jean nodded. “But only if it’s below the Imperial level.”

  Silence enveloped the square. An Imperial level weapon? The cheapest ones cost at least six thousand coins. It was unlikely that a commoner (and all the cultivators gathered here were commoners), no matter how lucky they were, could’ve gotten their hands on such a treasure.

  “Very well!” The young man shouted. “Then I, Bazil, the strongest warrior of Rasla village, will be the first to receive a medallion today!”

  He took out a huge hammer resting on his back. A vortex of steel-colored energy swirled around Bazil. With a roar, he brought the shining hammer down on the stele. The impact was so strong that the wave of energy that spread out from the point of contact shattered the stones beneath. When the dust settled, the rest of the examinees watched Bazil disappear in a shower of green sparks.

  “No!” He shouted faintly over the heads of the others.

  There wasn’t a single mark on the stele.

  “Next!” The examiners shouted in unison.

  After that, a bunch of cultivators tried to leave at least a small crack on the stele. Many of them succeeded. But they only left behind really small scratches.

  Powerful shots from a bow, where the arrow turned into a log thrown by a giant, left only a scratch. A blow with a gauntlet that was so powerful it made the ground rumble left only a scratch. A firestorm that turned into a crescent which melted the sand and turned it into glass left only a scratch. A spear thrust enveloped by a whirlwind left only a scratch. Dozens of powerful Techniques, the sight of which would once have made Hadjar feel like an unskilled child, were capable of inflicting only minor damage. Some even ended with their unlucky wielders being sent back to the city.

  Everyone who succeeded received a medallion and stepped aside. There were about a hundred and fifty of them now. Only fifty examinees were left.

  “Holy fuck!” Someone shouted.

  Hadjar turned at the sound and smiled broadly. Einen, covered in iridescent scales, was trying to pull his staff-spear out of the stele. It had sunk almost a dozen inches into the column.

  “Well done.” Mentor Jean said. “It’s not every year that someone who can damage the stele like that comes along.”

  “Thank you for your kind words, honorable Mentor,” the islander bowed, and after receiving his badge, walked away to join the other lucky warriors. They looked at him as if he were a monster and hastily moved away, avoiding him. Finally, it was Hadjar’s turn. He was the last one.

  He summoned the sleeping dragon from the depths of his soul. It was as long as his arm now. Shaking off its drowsiness, it flew into Hadjar’s mental body.

  In the physical world, the black cloak, which looked as if it had been woven out of black fog, appeared across his shoulders. Wisps of the fog were separated from it by gusts of wind, but it instantly restored itself. The black blade appeared in his hands. It turned out that the Black Sword that Hadjar could now summon to reality was much stronger than the cheap artifact sword he’d bought.

  “What a strange Call.” Jean muttered to himself.

  Markin was so excited that he could barely stop himself from giggling. Such a Named One would certainly be the perfect final ingredient for his Hundred Voices pill and would even advance it to a new level! The gods clearly favored Markin.

  Hadjar sighed and summoned all his energy and all his knowledge of the Way of the Sword Spirit. A storm of blue-black energy swirled around him. The cloak and sword condensed for a moment, and Hadjar shouted:

  “Sixth stance: Wind!”

  Leaving behind ghostly silhouettes, he moved a dozen yards in an instant and appeared right behind the stele. The crowd held their breath. They all saw the same monolith, which appeared unharmed. However, Hadjar hadn’t been whisked away by the green sparks.

  Einen cleared his throat and hit the ground with his staff. With a terrible creak and a loud crash, the top half of the stele slid off and then fell to the
ground. Utter silence followed. After a moment, Mentor Jean pulled himself together and proclaimed:

  “Welcome to ‘The Holy Sky’ School!”

  Chapter 429

  Mentor Jean inspected the new disciples. He wasn’t happy. He’d once been a Mentor for fully-fledged disciples. That title had given him privileges that even middle-class officials didn’t have. However, those times were long gone. Jean had managed to cross one of the seven mighty clans of the Empire, so it was a miracle that he’d even retained his position as a Mentor for the ordinary disciples.

  “First of all, let me congratulate you all on passing the exam.” He began his annual speech. He repeated it so often that he might end up remembering it after his rebirth. “Now, follow me. I’ll tell you all about your life in our abode of knowledge and power.”

  A shiver ran down Hadjar’s spine. He turned around. Over the years of wars in Lidus and his travels through the Sea of Sand, he’d managed to develop a sense for danger. Right now, it was blaring almost as loudly as an ambulance. The other examiners gradually disappeared behind the curtain. One of them — a tall, thin, gray-haired man — quickly looked away.

  “Tell me honestly, Einen, am I being paranoid?” Hadjar whispered in his friend’s ear.

  The islander looked at the examiner.

  “I’m usually the paranoid one of the two of us,” the islander replied. “However, right now, whatever you’re feeling, we should be careful. This place is full of incredible opportunities, but a quick death is inevitable if we get careless.”

  Hadjar nodded. Since ancient times, the capital of the Empire had attracted many adventurers, mercenaries… Those who, like the two friends, had tried to progress further along the path of cultivation. Many people flocked to Dahanatan. They were all wildly different, but united by one common feature — most of them disappeared without a trace.

  The new ordinary disciples passed through the stone archway. It took their breath away. A few hours ago, they’d climbed up to the school, but they hadn’t seen all the school buildings. Only now did Hadjar realize that what he’d seen had been just the tip of the iceberg. The vast expanses of ‘The Holy Sky’ School included not only a tower, an arena, and several other premises, but also vast fields, forests, hills, and parade grounds. And everywhere you looked, training sessions were in full swing.