Volume One, Chapter Eighty-Seven: The Absurd Test

If it were only one or two cases, then it could indeed be explained as an exception. But for such a widespread surge in supernatural ability to occur, it is truly rather suspicious.

Chen Shanhai suddenly recalled what Master Feng had said earlier, and murmured, "Could it be..."

Could it be because of this full-moon tidal cycle?

Perhaps Master Feng was right. The end of the lunar tide may only be the beginning of greater upheavals to come.

"When can that fellow make it back?" Chen Shanhai steadied his surging emotions and suddenly remembered that someone had taken leave again during this major assessment. He could not help asking Feng Shichu.

"Peace said he is already on the way back and should reach Qing City tonight," Feng Shichu replied, taking off his glasses to wipe them clean.

"He really does have a lot of nerve, making the inspection team stay an extra day just to wait for him." Though Chen Shanhai felt a little regret that the man knew nothing about supernatural abilities, he was quite looking forward to his combat performance.

Even if he had no chance to go to the winter camp this time, outstanding practical results would surely win favor from those above.

"Later, prepare a special assessment notice and send it separately to that fellow, Mo De. I want to see just how long he can keep hiding his true abilities this time." A sly smile suddenly appeared on Chen Shanhai's resolute face.

Feng Shichu scratched his head, somewhat hesitant, but in the end he still agreed.

...

Time passed, and before long it was noon. Those who had fallen unconscious during the close-combat test were waking one after another, stretching their sore bodies while quickly eating lunch to replenish their strength.

After the meal, everyone had not rested long before they were once again dispatched to the next testing site.

This test was unlike the mysterious close-combat round; it was relatively open. Everyone was brought into the gymnasium and grouped before their assigned targets.

The requirements were simple: students could use any attack method they wished, so long as they expended all of their supernatural powers in the shortest possible time.

As for those who still could not perform offensive arts, they could also touch the target directly and pour all of their elemental energy into it. The target would change color according to the flow rate and total amount of that energy, thereby reflecting the final score.

Looking at the rows of silvery, gleaming mannequins on the range, the students who had been one-sidedly beaten in the previous round all cracked their knuckles, eager to show their mettle.

But soon, the students' excitement vanished without a trace.

Watching one pioneer after another collapse from exhaustion, yet fail to leave so much as a scratch on the mannequins, everyone fell into silence.

"May I ask what material these mannequin targets are made of?" someone finally gathered the courage to ask the instructor in charge.

"Flowing Light Soft Silver, a highly malleable memory alloy," the instructor answered with a smile.

The students of Tianshui, who had been hoping to vent their frustrations at last, had no choice but to face reality. They frantically unleashed every kind of supernatural art they could muster, exhausting every last trace of elemental energy in their bodies to polish and grind the immovable alloy dummies.

This round was never meant to assess the students' destructive power, but rather to determine the amount of elemental energy stored within each of them. The true purpose of the test was to drain every participant dry.

With their legs trembling, Wu Fan and Ji Keqing supported each other while watching Su Ziwen, equally unsteady on his feet, stagger out from the range.

The alloy mannequin he had tested against remained just as intact, showing not the slightest mark.

After all, Su Ziwen had only recently broken through to new levels of supernatural ability, and at present his space arts were still few in number.

"Students who have completed the shooting test, please follow the staff to the next examination site!" The white-clad staff waved small flags, guiding the thoroughly drained youngsters to the next checkpoint.

"A series of muffled thuds rang out from one corner of the venue, one heavy blow after another, echoing ceaselessly through the hall.

When the sound finally subsided and the howling, intertwined gale dispersed, a shallow indentation had appeared on one of the Flowing Light Soft Silver mannequins.

Yu Jiuchuan withdrew her slightly trembling hands and, gripping the railing, stepped down from the firing platform. She had never before tried rapid successive pressure wind bullets, and at that moment not a trace of elemental energy remained within her. The hollow, drained sensation was truly unpleasant.

Looking back at the alloy mannequin, whose dent was slowly healing, Yu Jiuchuan shook her head and staggered toward the next venue.

...

As expected, once a bottom line is set, it will only be lowered again and again.

After draining the students' abilities, the final practical test was absurdly simple in rule yet outrageous in nature.

This time, everyone only needed to run around the track until they were utterly exhausted.

Of course, they could give up halfway, but their score would suffer for it. If the instructors discovered anyone deliberately preserving strength in order to withdraw, then every result they had achieved would be cut in half, with fifty percent of the points deducted.

The members of Class Twenty looked at one another, all wearing pained expressions. If there were a distance or a time limit, that would be one thing, but what kind of test was it to make them run themselves to exhaustion?

As class monitor, Su Ziwen naturally had to set an example. After encouraging his dispirited classmates, everyone finally began to run, following the enormous track and starting lap after lap.

And so they ran from afternoon into night.

The physical fitness of those with supernatural abilities was generally quite strong, so the process of exhausting their strength dragged on especially long. Some high-tier adepts began to accelerate, eager to deplete their stamina as quickly as possible and finish this tormenting trial sooner.

But Su Ziwen still kept pace with the main body of Class Twenty, sending one exhausted classmate after another, fainting from lack of strength, off the field.

Without gravity powers to lighten the load, even though Wu Fan had broken through to the Body-Reliant stage and had slimmed down considerably, he still collapsed before Ji Keqing did. His stamina was truly pitiable.

After finally escorting every member of Class Twenty off the course, Su Ziwen looked around. The runners nearby had changed several times over; even the first-year students who had lagged behind in the target-shooting segment had now begun their long-distance run.

He quickened his pace. With the space elemental energy that had recovered somewhat within him, Su Ziwen once again cast a weakened space-stilling art upon himself.

At once, the space around him became as resistant as gel, making every step terribly difficult. But this was exactly what Su Ziwen wanted. Adding a bit of burden to himself would help bring this ordeal to an end more quickly.

Beads of sweat, large as beans, rolled down his cheeks, and once they fell into the surrounding space, even their speed seemed to slow. Only after Su Ziwen had moved on did the beads break free from the effect and strike the track, shattering apart.

The scenery before his eyes flickered between light and dark, while the suffocating sensation of oxygen deprivation churned ceaselessly. Su Ziwen knew his strength was about to be spent, and that at last he could be freed from this endless march.

In his dazed state, a figure suddenly surfaced in Su Ziwen's mind.

How long would that fellow have to run before he truly exhausted himself?