The Gauntlet of Grit and Grain
The gray-haired examiner watched Feng Wuyu's dramatic exit before turning back to Yao Xuan, his expression a mix of awe and professional courtesy. "Young man, to catch Elder Feng's eye is a fortune few ever know. Cherish it."
"Thank you, Senior," Yao Xuan replied, inclining his head. "And my score for this stage?"
"Full marks, unquestionably. A Level 5 Blacksmith's proof is irrefutable." The examiner gestured to the piece of Spirit-Forged metal, its surface still shimmering with a living sheen. "Per regulation, this piece will be cataloged as part of your examination record. Do you consent?"
"Of course." Yao Xuan handed over the refined gold, feeling a faint, pleasant pulse of connection before it was carefully placed in a preservation case. With a final bow, he rejoined his friends outside.
Over the next hour, the others completed their own professional assessments. Gu Yue's flawless mecha design schematics, Xu Xiaoyan's intricate energy circuit models, Xie Xie's precise component machining, and Tang Wulin's solid Thousand Refined metal earned them scores of 10, 9, 6, and 9 respectively. As they regrouped, they shared a moment of silent gratitude for Wu Changkong's insistence on their secondary skills; this stage could have been a stumbling block.
By the time they finished, the sun was high. When Xie Xie pressed their guide about the sixth trial, the senior student merely smiled cryptically and led them to an unexpected venue: the academy's main cafeteria.
The test site within was a surreal sight. Long tables were set with individual trays, each bearing a daunting pyramid of fist-sized, densely-packed steamed buns.
"The sixth assessment: consumption and constitution," the guide announced. "You must consume fifteen buns consecutively. No use of soul power to aid digestion is permitted—rely on your natural constitution and will. Each additional five buns consumed adds one point to your score."
It was a test that seemed absurd on the surface, yet it cut to the core of a Soul Master's endurance. Without soul power, the body's limits were laid bare. Fifteen such buns represented a colossal challenge for any teenager, a gauntlet of pure grit and stomach capacity.
For three of their number, however, it was less a trial and more a late breakfast.
Tang Wulin's eyes sparkled at the mountain of food. "Senior," he called out, already reaching forward, "is sharing permitted?"
"It is, but are you certain you can manage?" the guide asked, one eyebrow raised.
"Watch me." With a grin, Tang Wulin proceeded to perform a spectacle of consumption, dispatching bun after bun with a steady, relentless rhythm that left the guide and nearby staff staring in disbelief. By the end, nearly a hundred buns had vanished, with only a modest swell to his midsection to show for it.
Yao Xuan and Gu Yue ate with efficient, measured pace, their enhanced physiologies making the task straightforward. Xie Xie and Xu Xiaoyan struggled more, their faces paling as they forced down the final few buns, but their determination—and the knowledge that their comrades had already secured a surplus of points—saw them through.
All five passed the sixth trial with perfect scores.
The seventh trial, the endurance test, commenced after a mandated hour of rest. It was a brutal triad: a 10,000-meter run, followed by a thousand squats with fifty-kilogram weights, and a thousand pull-ups. Soul power was allowed to reinforce the body, but no soul skills could be used to circumvent the physical toll.
It was a test of raw stamina and the resilience of one's foundation.
Gu Yue, though not a strength-type soul master, moved with a fluid, tireless grace, her Silver Dragon King heritage granting her a stamina that far surpassed her slender frame suggested. Yao Xuan, Tang Wulin, and Xie Xie completed the grueling circuit, their bodies glistening with sweat but their spirits unbroken.
Xu Xiaoyan, however, hit her limit. After pushing through the run, her slight form trembled under the weight during the squats. Seeing her struggle, Yao Xuan gave a slight, almost imperceptible shake of his head when she looked his way, his eyes conveying permission to stop. There was no shame in knowing one's limits. She stepped back after completing the run, earning a modest two points for her effort while conserving strength for the final trials.
After another hour of meditative recovery, they were led to a vast, circular combat hall for the eighth assessment.
Ten students in Shrek Academy uniforms stood arrayed on the far side, their auras varied and watchful. They were the gatekeepers of the previous year.
"The eighth trial: comprehensive combat evaluation," their guide explained. "You will each duel one of these second-year students. Opponents are assigned randomly—their strengths, weaknesses, and martial souls are unknown to you until the match begins. Thus, luck is a factor, but so is perception. Use your observation before choosing. A word of advice: selecting wisely is half the victory. The battle permits all means except soul tools. Last ten minutes to pass; defeat your opponent for a perfect score. Intermediary results are judged on performance. You have five minutes to confer and decide your order of engagement. Begin."
The guide stepped back, and the five from Class Zero huddled together.
"Brother Xuan, how should we approach this?" Xie Xie asked, his voice low.
Yao Xuan's gaze swept analytically over the ten opponents, his spiritual sense extending just enough to gauge the surface of their auras without provocation. He noted the confident posture of a tall youth with fiery red hair, the calm, grounded stance of a girl with earthy-brown eyes, the sharp, vigilant look of a boy whose fingers twitched as if plucking strings.
"We consider the matchups and our stamina," Yao Xuan began, his voice calm and strategic. "Xiaoyan's power peaks under starlight; she should fight last, regardless of opponent, to maximize her chance if the duel extends. For our order: Wulin, your defensive strength and endurance can test an opponent's capabilities deeply, even in a loss. You go first. Xie Xie, your speed and agility can exploit an opening if Wulin reveals one; you second. Gu Yue," he said, turning to her, their eyes meeting. In her violet gaze, he saw not question, but readiness. "Your versatility can adapt to any revelation from the first two fights. You third. I will anchor us last."
It was a order that spread their strengths, prioritized intelligence-gathering, and positioned their most adaptable and powerful fighters to respond to whatever patterns emerged. It was the order of a leader thinking not of individual glory, but of the team's comprehensive success.
As the five-minute timer ticked down, Yao Xuan's final glance at Gu Yue was not one of command, but of shared resolve. They had come this far together. They would clear this final gate as they had all others—side by side, each playing their part.