Three days had passed. Training was over, and it was time for the level test.
Jiang Qiu arrived at the training hall early. He found a Wooden Spear on a rack and began casually twirling it to get a feel for it. Before long, students started trickling in, their numbers almost half of what they had been the day before.
Bringing his spear to a rest, he looked over. Fifteen students, led by a small, skinny boy, were gathered around the class monitor, Wang Guanjia, chatting and laughing. Li Xueming and one of the female students were in the group. The only ones excluded were himself and another girl with short hair.
Soon, Wu Shan's towering figure appeared in the training hall. His presence alone, without a single word, was enough to silence the room. Everyone instinctively gathered around him.
"I've already taught you the essentials of the first eight forms of the Ancient Martial Spear Technique. Three days is more than enough time to learn them." Wu Shan's single right eye rolled, scanning the students as he spoke in a heavy voice, "According to the school's schedule, today is the level test. I will call out your names. You will come up one by one and demonstrate your skills.
First up, Class Monitor Wang Guanjia!"
As the name was called, the youth with the most formidable presence stepped forward, spear in hand. His face was a mask of indifference as he calmly took his place as the first to be tested.
Beneath the dome lights of Class 8's private training hall, amidst neat panels of aluminum and iron, stood seventeen students, Wooden Spears in hand. The two rows of wooden racks were now empty. All eyes were fixed intently on Wang Guanjia, who moved before Wu Shan, his spear a blur, like a coiling dragon. Every student's palms were slick with nervous sweat.
WHOOSH—
He wielded the Wooden Spear as if it were an extension of his own arm. With a twist of his waist, he generated a force that made the air itself whistle sharply. His brow was furrowed in concentration; in that moment, there was only the spear, the wielder forgotten.
With a sharp CLACK, the Wooden Spear's motion ceased. The hearts of the students, which had been caught in their throats, finally settled. The envy in their eyes, however, did not fade. Just as they expected, Wu Shan nodded. "Not bad. Wang Guanjia reached the entry-level of the Ancient Martial Spear Technique some time ago. He's not much worse than some of the top students who have long-term access to Martial Arts Resources."
HISS—
A collective gasp of shock went through the crowd. Everyone's face was a picture of amazement.
'No wonder the class monitor's Spear Technique is so fierce. So he's already reached the entry-level of the Ancient Martial Spear Technique, on par with those top students from Class 1 and all their resources.'
'Reaching the entry-level for the Ancient Martial Spear Technique means you've grasped Mingjin and have begun to develop a killing aura. On the battlefield, that's enough to pierce the hides of some of the low-defense Demon Beasts!'
Jiang Qiu's eyes narrowed as he watched Wang Guanjia swagger off the floor. He tapped his fingers lightly on the spear shaft in his hand, a thoughtful expression on his face.
[Ancient Martial Spear (Entry-level)]
[Features: Mingjin Wind-Breaking, Spearpoint Armor-Piercing]
[40/500]
"Second, Qian Cheng. Demonstrate."
At the heavy, commanding shout, the small, skinny boy stepped out from the main group of students. He nodded in greeting to the class monitor as he returned to the ranks, then planted his feet and looked toward Wu Shan.
"Begin."
Given the command, Qian Cheng's expression grew serious. He instantly sank into a horse stance as his long spear shot forward. He performed every move of the Ancient Martial Spear Technique with all his might. A slight twist of his wrist generated a faint whistling sound in the air.
The students who came after him also put everything into their performances. Forearm muscles bulged like rocks, and the blurs of their Wooden Spears cut through the air with sharp WHUPS. Not a single one of them displayed less vigor than Qian Cheng—no one was willing to give an inch!
"Fourteenth, Jiang Qiu."
Jiang Qiu took a deep breath. Wooden Spear in hand, he puffed out his chest and strode forward, taking his position in the center of the room, the focus of all eyes. His own gaze was sharp and concentrated.
At Wu Shan's nod, he began.
HUP!
The instant he sank into a horse stance, the tip of the Wooden Spear between his hands began to hum and vibrate. An unseen force stirred the air, lifting the corners of his clothes and strands of his hair as a perfectly formed killing intent radiated outward.
'How did this Jiang Qiu, born in the Shantytown, cultivate the aura of the Ancient Martial Spear Technique to such a profound level? Did he secretly steal the Martial Arts Resources of the top students?!'
Even Li Xueming, who had personally sparred with Jiang Qiu, couldn't help but stare dumbfounded. "He was holding back when he fought me?"
As Jiang Qiu's form blurred with the twisting of his spear, the sharp sound of it piercing the air—WHOOSH, WHOOSH—seemed to stab at the onlookers' eyes, making them sting. They instinctively glanced toward Wang Guanjia and saw his brow was lowered, his gaze intense. His knuckles were white where he gripped his own spear.
'Is Jiang Qiu's Ancient Martial Spear Technique that fierce, almost on par with the class monitor's?'
VMMMM...
He executed the final form. The tip of the spear, now resting naturally in his palm, still vibrated softly. Jiang Qiu slowly exhaled the stale breath he'd been holding in his chest. His jet-black eyes swept from left to right, and only then did he realize every single person was staring at him. The most piercing gaze of all came from Qian Cheng. His lips were pressed into a thin, tight line, his face was ashen, and his eyes were cold and menacing.
Jiang Qiu merely raised an eyebrow and glanced at Qian Cheng. At an impassive glance from Wu Shan, he retreated back into the crowd, and another student took his place.
'At this point, the five boys and two girls I was watching have all had their turn. As expected, those who were able to endure that intense training clearly have an edge over everyone else.'
'To be blunt, even though I held back and only showed the fluidity of my technique instead of its full power, of the three spots... Wang Guanjia should get one, I should get one, and the last one will go to someone from that group of five boys and two girls.'
At this thought, Jiang Qiu reined in his speculation and let out a quiet sigh of relief.
The testing process was soon complete. All nineteen students from Class 8 present for the level test, including Jiang Qiu, had demonstrated the results of their training.
In less than an hour, Wu Shan had drawn up a list of those who passed the level test based on the performances. The boys and girls turned their heads like owls to stare at the paper, silently clenching their warm, sweaty fists.
Jiang Qiu also stared unblinkingly at the list in Wu Shan's hand, holding his breath.
"First place, Wang Guanjia."
The name was announced, each word as heavy and solid as Taishan Mountain, leaving no room for argument. A stream of praise immediately spilled from Qian Cheng's grinning lips: "As expected of our class monitor!"
The other students also turned their admiring gazes to Wang Guanjia. He gave a slight smile, long accustomed to such attention, but enjoying it nonetheless.
Wu Shan's rolling right eye glanced at the crowd gathered around Wang Guanjia, then fell back to the paper. He continued to read: "Second place, Hu Ye'ye."
Hm?
Jiang Qiu's heart sank. The hand gripping his spear shaft tightened instantly. He turned his head and, just as he'd thought, saw Qian Cheng smiling at a girl with a ponytail, a fair, powdered face, and bright red lips. "Sister Yeye is amazing, of course."
'She's one of the two girls from that group of seven. Born in the commoner district of the Outer City, but her family is still one of the wealthiest in our class. The Ancient Martial Spear Technique she demonstrated wasn't bad, either. She definitely has the qualifications to earn a spot.'
With that thought, the tension in Jiang Qiu's brow eased slightly, but his heart still felt like it was in the grip of a formless hand, POUNDING relentlessly.
"Third place..."
The training hall was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The faint squeak of sweaty palms on wooden shafts seemed to echo in the air. All eyes were like needles, fixed on Wu Shan's lips. But he suddenly stopped and lifted his head to look toward the entrance.
The sound of footsteps, TAP, TAP, TAP, approached from outside. A group of middle-aged men in administrative jackets entered the training hall, their pace unhurried. They carried themselves with the cold, heavy presence of an iceberg, commanding respect without a single word.
"Teacher Wu, it seems you have even fewer students for the level test this year than last year?"
The leader of the group, a man wearing glasses, spoke, his face impassive. The glare on his lenses obscured his narrowed eyes.
Wu Shan smiled slightly. Even his wide-open, single right eye seemed to relax. He sounded like a gentle, handicapped uncle as he spoke: "Director Zhao, the students in the regular classes these days mostly lack the right temperament. They're not easy to teach."
"I see. Looks like your level test is already finished. Just read the last name."
The bespectacled Director Zhao gave a noncommittal grunt, clasping his hands behind his back as he and his inspection team waited off to the side. They watched quietly as Wu Shan picked the list up again. "Third place..."