Instructor Zhang Biao's single sentence ignited the entire training ground!
What follows is the Martial Trial—a life-and-death showdown where fate is in your own hands!
Adrenaline spiked with nerves, stirring an inexplicable excitement and a trace of dread.
Zhang Biao's thick finger jabbed toward the 400-meter peak behind them.
"This will be your battleground for the Martial Trial!"
"Rules: survive here for twenty-four hours, from eleven this morning to eleven tomorrow."
"Each of you will receive an identity number tag. Guard your own—and steal everyone else's."
The mountain is clearly marked in three zones. Every eight hours the combat zone shrinks. Anyone outside the boundary when the whistle blows is eliminated!
He pulled a palm-sized circular number tag from his pocket; a digit was printed on it.
"When time's up, anyone without a tag is out. Even if you have tags, final ranking depends on how many. Only one hundred and sixty will pass."
Combined scores from the martial and Written Exams will decide the ultimate admission list.
Zhao Mu listened, thinking: I'll have to keep hunting—defeating other Trial Participants and seizing their number tags.
The ever-shrinking trial zone blocks the cowards who just want to hide.
Twenty-four hours of limits also test fieldcraft and endurance. This martial exam is truly comprehensive.
Zhang Biao's mouth curled in a cold grin.
"During the Martial Trial, life and death are your own affair—killing is permitted."
A sharp glint flashed in Zhao Mu's eyes.
Jin Xiangcheng's group likewise turned a shade gloomier.
"So we finally get blood on our hands? It's the only road to becoming a Spirit Power User. Fine—bring it on!"
Some examinees paled; this was their first brush with a life-or-death crisis.
Of more than two thousand Trial Participants, only one hundred and sixty remain—over ninety percent will be washed out.
In this battle-royale, unrestricted killing means the strong will slay the weak the instant they get the chance!
A hand shot up. "Report!"
Zhang Biao looked over. "Speak."
The candidate asked, "If… if we want to quit midway, what do we do?"
He blushed, yet no one scorned him; it was what most were thinking.
Better to yield than to die.
Zhang Biao pointed skyward.
Zhao Mu and the rest looked up to see dozens of Giant Eagles circling the heavens.
"Each carries monitoring gear, covering every corner of the battlefield."
"Once you're out of combat, raise your hand and shout 'Withdraw'; an eagle will swoop down and carry you off."
Another hand rose. After permission he said, "But if we can kill without limit, and withdrawing requires being out of combat, won't everyone just try to kill on sight?"
"Then…" he swept his gaze across the crowd, "few of us will walk out alive."
Zhang Biao gave an approving nod, memorizing the speaker.
"Correct. So killing carries a small penalty."
He raised one finger: "One point. Each kill is logged and deducted from your Martial Trial sub-score."
This deduction is off the martial score only, not the combined total."
Each tag you claim gives ten points. The highest tag count becomes the perfect score, and everyone else is graded proportionally."
Someone bowed his head, eyes wide with dread, palms slick with sweat.
"Ten points for a tag, minus one for a kill—the penalty is almost nothing."
Another replied, "But rankings hinge on every point. Among two thousand rivals, one point might outrank several people."
"So it stops fighters from butchering a helpless opponent."
Zhao Mu committed every rule to memory—exploit them well and profit the most.
Yet the instant "killing is allowed" was uttered, he felt many covert glances slide toward him.
"Someone wants me dead?"
His gaze hardened; in a flash he'd thought of several candidates.
Far from afraid, he gave a playful smirk.
"Then let's see who's hunter and who's prey."
Since thirteen he'd followed Bu Yanhuan to Blood Bone Mountain northeast of Lujiang City, a haunt of fierce beasts.
Bu Yanhuan treated him no differently from an adult: at thirteen he was handed a homemade bow and a machete and told to fight wolves!
To this day Zhao Mu has lost count of the beasts he's slain.
Their family's meat supply has never run dry—courtesy of that mountain.
Wilderness combat is his Domain!
Zhou Haoyu and Li Zixuan were already sweating, pulses racing.
They sneaked glances at Zhao Mu, hoping he'd team up with them.
Zhao Mu suddenly said, "From here on, you two walk your own path."
They opened their mouths but swallowed the plea.
He'd already helped them in the Written Exam, and in this format tagging along would only burden him.
"Someone's marked me; I've a good guess who. Stay with me and you're in greater danger."
Surprised, they scanned the crowd and spotted Wang Qing, Chen Mingming and Sun Wei stealing glances, eyes full of malice.
"It's Wang Qing's bunch—still gutsy enough to provoke you."
Zhao Mu smiled coldly. "They're not even worthy."
He waved dismissal. "No more questions. Once inside, don't rush—find a place and hide."
"If I clear my own troubles and still have time, I'll try to help you pass."
Grateful, they nodded vigorously.
"Zhao Mu, don't worry about us—handle your business first. If you can lend a hand, we'll count ourselves lucky."
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)