Chapter 10: Day of Reckoning
Just like that, twenty days flew by.
BOOM!
Tyler Windrider's mighty punch split a crack through the thick stone pillar in his cellar.
He had only used seventy percent of his strength, yet the force was terrifying. If he hadn't pulled back at the last moment, he probably would have brought the whole pillar, maybe even the entire cellar, crashing down.
After half a month of relentless effort, Tyler's abilities had soared again.
He had now advanced from mid-stage Sacral Core to the very peak. Every one of his punches now packed a force of six hundred kilograms.
His progress was astonishing—he'd climbed from Root Core all the way to peak Sacral Core in less than a month. Not just in Silverdale, but likely throughout the whole Onyx Empire, there was no one else who'd ever advanced at such a pace.
It was clear: purging the body's impurities by "taking a beating" was thousands of times faster than any other method...
However, today, something strange happened during the daily drills.
Usually, the disciples' punches, while vigorous, never left him more than a bruise. He always felt their impact. But today, he noticed a new change: the power he absorbed from their blows was noticeably reduced.
Tyler watched the disciples closely, wondering if they were going easy on him. But no, they seemed to be hitting with all their strength. Despite that, that energizing warm current he relied on was now barely trickling in.
Back in the cellar that night, he noticed that, while washing up, the impurities shed from his body had dropped to nearly half the usual amount.
This sudden change troubled Tyler. Where was he going wrong?
"Could it be that my body is just too tough now?"
Drawing on all his knowledge, he figured that right now, his body was at least as strong as a Mortal-tier weapon.
But none of the trainees in Silverdale had even awakened their Root Core. Perhaps his flesh had reached a level where blows from these disciples could do him no good anymore.
"Looks like I'll need someone stronger if I want better results."
But where would he find such a person? He couldn't very well ask the elders to come beat him...
"The Disciples' Assessment Day is only a few days away. Maybe on that day, truly powerful figures will take part—and if so, that could solve my problem. More importantly, if I win my match in the Death Match, I could legally earn my freedom and finally leave this place for Seven Rivers Abbey."
With the strength he possessed now, Tyler doubted any of the disciples would be able to defeat him.
Sitting alone in the cellar, hope flared bright inside him.
In all these years, not a moment had passed when he forgot his father's betrayal and murder. He'd endured endless humiliation just to survive because he had been too weak. Now, fate had gifted him Sage Brigham's Divine Body Refinement which let him advance at an inhuman pace. He would make the most of it.
This year, the winter was harsher than usual. From the vast northern mountain range, icy winds swept down, turning the entire northern lands white with snow.
Heavy snowfall had blanketed Silverdale's main training grounds, covering them in a thick, frozen sheet.
On Assessment Day, the servants cleared away the snow. Every trainee stood lined up in small groups, each waiting with their team.
The Disciples' Assessment was held once a year, not just to measure every student's ability, but also to inspire them. It was a huge event for both disciples and training assistants.
All of Silverdale's disciples would be assigned medicines and resources for the following year based strictly on their performance today. The better you did, the more you earned.
For the slaves, it was even more significant—today their fates would be decided: life, death, or the dream of freedom.
Tyler and the other assistants walked toward the arena. Every one of them was deadly serious, determination etched on their faces. Each knew the importance of what was about to take place.
In the Death Match, a slave had only two options: win and be free, or die trying.
For the disciples, the Death Match was also a test—a victory brought rewards and acclaim, but defeat brought shame.
The true purpose behind these deadly matches was to motivate the slaves to fight for their freedom, and in doing so, offer the disciples the experience of real, desperate combat.
Shortly after the slaves gathered at the arena, a stunning young girl walked in. She looked about fourteen or fifteen, her skin as white as milk, her cheeks as soft as lotus petals. When she smiled, it was as if blossoms scattered in her wake.
She looked around the training ground with bright, curious eyes, a silver-armored man striding behind her—her bodyguard, no doubt.
"Princess! The assessment hasn't started yet. You shouldn't be here so early," the bodyguard said helplessly.
"Princess?"
All eyes turned to the breathtaking beauty. No one could look away.
When Tyler saw the girl, he was stunned too. He'd never seen her before, but couldn't help secretly admiring her beauty.
"Uncle Viktor, you worry too much! It won't be long before the assessment begins anyway," the princess replied with a bright, cheerful smile.
Her words left Viktor speechless. As the youngest in her family, she was everyone's darling—no wonder she was so willful.
"You're absolutely right, Princess Aurelia!" came a voice from the main gate, as a young man strode slowly toward them.
What happens next? Who is this new arrival speaking to the princess? And will Princess Aurelia favor any of Silverdale's princes? Find out in the next chapter…
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[ A.N. :- This a shot chapter in comparison of other chapters. I hope you are enjoying the story so far. ]