Dragon Heart. Land Of Magic. LitRPG Wuxia Saga. Book 6

"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 s.u.c.k.e.d 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 writhing 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.