The martial phase of the War God exam commenced.
The Group Seven arena was set in a garden at Verner Palace’s southeast corner. All 240 candidates of the group gathered beneath the elevated platform, listening to the examiner’s pronouncements.
“…Rule Seven: Named candidates must ascend the stage immediately. Failure to appear after three calls results in forfeiture… Rule Thirteen: Beyond victory or defeat, examiners will evaluate candidates’ potential. Even in loss, a candidate displaying satisfactory potential and fighting spirit will earn another chance…”
Du Cheng, uninterested in the litany of rules, crouched among the crowd, chatting with his new Sino Gnome friend, Semu.
“Hey, dear Semu, you’re number one! I’ll get to see your performance right away!” Du Cheng grinned.
Semu’s large eyes brimmed with gratitude. Du Cheng’s crouching to speak at his level was a profound gesture of respect for a gnome, especially from a God’s Heir.
“Yes, I’m first up. Oh, you’re number seven—we won’t face off for a while!”
With 240 candidates paired for elimination, the exam would span nine rounds, with one lucky candidate getting a bye in the sixth round’s fifteen-to-eight match.
Suddenly, a burst of firelight flared from another part of Verner Palace, followed by roaring flames that soared into the clear blue sky, stark and piercing.
Semu shook his head, sighing. “Holy fireworks. Tsk, some poor soul just died.”
The examiner announced the final rule: “Rule Twenty-Six: The exam disregards life or death. Both sides must give their all. Begin!”
The arena, a two-meter-high, thirty-meter-square platform of solid stone, was flanked by four white-robed clerics at its corners. They served as both examiners and peacekeepers to quell any disturbances.
The first match pitted Semu against a human martial fighter.
Semu’s holy artifact was a short staff, arm-length. Clad in gnome-specific armor, he revealed himself as a Level 3 Yellow-Robed Magic Fighter. His opponent, a mere Level 1 Red-Robed Martial Fighter, was on par with the flayed Freith.
The human, though outmatched, was brash. Pointing his holy longsword at Semu, he taunted, “Semu, surrender! You Sino Gnomes are dim-witted. Even if you beat me, you’ll never pass the written test!”
Semu’s eyes turned red, his black skin shimmering with purple light—a sign of a gnome’s rage.
Without a word, he slammed his staff into the ground, growling, “Crown of Fire!”
Flames erupted from the arena’s stone surface, engulfing the entire platform in a blink. Only the examiners’ corners remained untouched.
The martial fighter, with nowhere to stand, leapt high, channeling his aura, and swung his sword at Semu’s head.
Semu grinned, his white teeth gleaming against his dark skin. A pillar of fire shot from his head, striking the fighter square in the chest.
Thud. The fighter crashed to the ground, swallowed instantly by the arena’s flames.
Ariza smacked his lips. “Young Master, I smell roast piglet!”
Du Cheng clasped his hands to his chest, lamenting, “Poor fool, provoking a Sino Gnome’s pride.”
Semu doused the flames, raising his arms and letting out the gnomes’ distinctive “cluck-cluck” laugh.
“Semu wins!” an examiner stood, proclaiming loudly. “In this bout, Semu earns a perfect ten, advancing to the second round. His opponent, facing a fighter two levels higher, showed no fear and employed the most tactically sound approach within a Level 1’s knowledge. Thus, he earns six points and a chance to fight again among the next round’s losers!”
This was the martial test’s scoring system: win or lose, candidates who displayed desired traits earned points. The exam spanned nine rounds, with each round offering a maximum of ten points, totaling ninety. Losers with sufficient potential and spirit could fight again for more points. The twenty group champions would compete once more, gaining a tenth bout and a chance at a perfect hundred.
The matches continued. The injured were carried off, and Semu scurried to Du Cheng, ranting about the opponent he’d turned into a “roast piglet.”
“Number Seven, Francis! Number Eight, Kaman! To the stage!”
“Dear Francis, my brother, Semu wishes you luck!”
Du Cheng’s turn came. He strolled onto the platform, while Kaman vaulted up with a flourish.
Kaman, clad in orange heavy armor, wielded a holy battle-axe instead of his usual weapon. Sneering at Du Cheng’s plain white robe and empty hands, he mocked, “Hmph, the shame of the Saint Kain family. Come to die?”
“Who dies today isn’t decided yet. Oh, dear Young Master Kaman, can’t you crack a smile? Or must hundreds of candidates witness that shoehorn face of yours?” Du Cheng shot back.
“Don’t get cocky!” Kaman pointed at Du Cheng, shouting to the crowd, “Behold, the disgrace of the Saint Kain family—a cripple born unable to cultivate aura! Facing him is my humiliation!”
“Kaman!” An examiner rose, voice sharp. “Church doctrine doesn’t bar those without aura from the exam. It mandates titled War God descendants participate at least once. Francis is fulfilling his duty. Respect your opponent! Begin!”
At the command, Kaman charged, swinging his axe toward Du Cheng.
Du Cheng watched coldly, hands clasped over his chest, fingers brushing the hidden necklace. If Ferdinand’s plan fails, this necklace better save me. If that doesn’t work, Kaman’s about to taste the lotus inner strength—passed down by Patriarch Bodhi and praised by the Great Sage Equal to Heaven!
Twenty steps. Fifteen. Ten…
Kaman closed in.
But at five steps, his footing faltered. Thud. He collapsed face-first before Du Cheng.
“Oh, Young Master Kaman, what’s wrong?” Du Cheng crouched, feigning concern, and checked Kaman’s breath. The boy was foaming at the mouth, face ashen, clutching his stomach in spasms.
Like a freshly steamed fish, twitching on the plate.
Du Cheng kicked him twice—no response. Turning to the examiners, he urged, “Honored examiners, come quick! Kaman’s in trouble!”
The examiners inspected Kaman, their faces grim. “Kaman consumed tainted food and is poisoned!”
“Per Church doctrine, Kaman scores zero. Francis wins, but as his victory lacks martial merit, he earns the minimum passing score: six points!”
The ruling was fair, and the candidates raised no objections. The examiner added, “To rule out pre-exam foul play by Francis, the test is paused. Both candidates and their attendants, ascend the stage for a Church investigation. All Group Seven candidates will bear witness!”
Ariza trudged obediently to the stage, joined by Kaman’s attendant.
Investigate all they liked—Kaman was indeed poisoned, by Father Ferdinand’s hand. With Church officials conducting the probe, finding the truth would be a miracle. Du Cheng and Ferdinand would sooner bash their heads in.
In exams, the worst cheat is when the examiner and candidate collude.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡig0BFkn6U7
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