Chapter 8: The Academy Assessment and a Striking Introduction

Time, a relentless current, flowed swiftly, and soon more than three months had passed. During this period, Gern had finally stabilized her cultivation at the second-tier Knight level.

The transition from third-tier to second-tier was a crucial stage. Once a Knight reached the second-tier, they were expected to begin comprehending the battle aura characteristic of third-tier Knights in advance. Ideally, a Knight at the second-tier would master a cultivation technique, then leverage its power to ascend to the third-tier. This method of advancement was considerably simpler and far more potent than conventional means.

Legend had it that this particular promotion method was devised by a dominant ruler a millennium ago, a figure who had swept across the world, leaving the entire globe bewildered and conquered. To possess a cultivation technique and to choose not to use it were two entirely different matters.

Until she acquired a truly exceptional cultivation technique, Gern resolved to remain at the second-tier for a while longer. Even at her current level, her experience from her previous life allowed her to, albeit with some effort, utilize battle aura. This academy assessment, she was determined to win.

****

On the day of Theoviga Academy’s assessment, the open ground designated for duels in the town’s two-story villa district was already teeming with people. Young cadets in deep blue uniforms maintained order, while on the elevated platform, a white-haired man sat. His physique was robust, his skin dark, giving him an impression of immense strength. He exuded the formidable aura of a sixth-tier Knight, sitting there like a general who had just returned from the brutal throes of battle.

Gern stood amidst the crowd, gazing at the man. He was the chief examiner for the academy assessment, though Gern didn’t have many distinct memories of him, only recalling that he was a terrifyingly powerful individual, a sixth-tier Knight and a fifth-tier Mage.

After a long silence, the man rose from his seat and declared in a loud voice,

“The Theoviga Academy enrollment assessment officially begins! All examinees, please enter in an orderly fashion. I will now announce the rules for this assessment.”

“This assessment will be an elimination system. The top ten participants will each receive a cultivation technique from the academy, and the first-place winner will advance to the next round of assessment.”

After speaking, the examiner settled back into his seat, watching the bustling examinees enter the vast arena. The entire grand training ground covered a large area, encircled by high spectator stands, reminiscent of a gladiatorial arena.

Gern approached an academy staff member and drew a slip of paper bearing the number 113, a relatively late slot. She nodded in satisfaction. A later slot allowed her to observe the fighting styles of previous victors and strategize in advance. Entering the top twenty would certainly be no issue; the crucial part was how she could secure a spot in the top ten. The academy’s cultivation technique, she absolutely had to obtain it.

Gern secretly hardened her resolve. The matches quickly began.

The first match featured two young men, both first-tier Knights judging by their auras. Their fight was rather dull; Gern felt as though they were merely playing house, their combat far too artificial. The second match was slightly better, at least involving individuals with genuine skill. Yet, in Gern’s eyes, their movements and techniques still appeared unrefined and immature.

It wasn’t until the tenth match that Gern perked up a little. This bout pitted a young man against a young woman. The young woman’s aura had already reached the peak of the second-tier, just a step away from reaching the third-tier. She, too, was someone suppressing her cultivation level, intending to break through after acquiring an academy cultivation technique. From her movements, it was clear she possessed genuine ability. The young woman was slender, her longsword dancing like a butterfly in flight, and her feet seemed to unfurl pink butterfly wings with each step. It resembled a dance, yet within these exquisite, graceful movements, a profound killing intent lurked. After a few exchanges, the young man was defeated and surrendered. ‘This individual warrants closer attention,’ Gern thought. ‘Her strength is not to be underestimated.’

Soon, it was Gern’s turn to compete. As she stepped onto the stage, a wave of laughter erupted from the crowd.

“Look, it’s the slum kid! Get off the stage!”

“Hahahaha, a guy who trained in the slums probably doesn’t even have any martial techniques!”

“I bet just awakening as a Knight probably bankrupted him!”

The jeers were incessant. Typically, those who could awaken as Knights were not short on money. It was their first time seeing a Knight awakener dressed as plainly as Gern.

Gern glanced at the mockers but said nothing. In her eyes, they were just a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears brats. She had, after all, been reborn; there was no need to get angry with a bunch of immature children.

On the other side of the training ground, an unremarkable-looking young man stood opposite Gern. His aura was restrained, giving off an unfathomable impression.

“Little brother, how about I let you have three moves?”

Gern’s lips twitched as she observed his confident demeanor. A first-tier Knight, she wondered where he got the audacity to speak to her like that. Yet, Gern didn’t take the bait. A sneer played on her lips as she held a rather unremarkable longsword in one hand. The reason she hadn’t used the sword Lilia had given her was that her current identity wasn’t suitable; she understood the proverb, ‘a common man is innocent until he possesses a treasure, then he is guilty.’

With the referee’s command, the match officially began. The young man, true to his word, stood rooted to the spot, intending to let Gern have three moves. Out of politeness, Gern cupped her hands in a respectful gesture toward him and said,

“Sir, I believe it would be better if we engaged in a normal contest.”

“Hm?! Do you dare question my strength? Just bring it on; if I move a single step, I lose!”

Witnessing the exchange between the two on stage, the audience immediately burst into laughter. Only the pink-haired young woman in the stands gazed intently at Gern’s retreating figure below.

“Well then, I apologize for the offense, Sir.”

Gern shrugged. She had warned him; if he wouldn’t listen, it wasn’t her fault. Her longsword flowed out effortlessly, its terrifying surge of power stirring up waves of air that streaked directly towards the young man’s throat. Feeling such terrifying might, the young man stumbled back several steps, attempting to raise his sword to block, but it was already too late. The longsword rested against his neck; another inch and it would pierce his throat.

The young man stared in disbelief at the scene before him, his body trembling slightly. Only then did fear slowly begin to spread within his heart.

“Thanks for the concession, pal.”

Gern gracefully withdrew her sword, performing a flourish, and calmly exited the stage. The spectator stands fell dead silent. These were all Knights from the town, and they all knew each other. This was precisely why they had openly mocked this unknown young Knight earlier. But after this battle, everyone began to take this young woman seriously, especially the pink-haired young woman in the audience, and Glot, who had been dozing off.

“Young Master, that person just now, that’s the one who stole your clothes.”

“What?!”

Glot, who had been somewhat unenthusiastic, suddenly sat up straight, looking at the plainly dressed young woman below.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, Young Master. He was the one wearing that outfit buying things on East Street.”

“And the clothes?”

The Knight awkwardly scratched his head, unsure whether he should continue.

“Speak quickly!”

“Young Master, we found your clothes in a trash can on East Street. But… they’re unwearable.”

“What! Outrageous! Summon men, quickly, summon men! I want that fellow captured alive!”