As Ethan went over his very limited options, he saw the crowd fall silent.
A man was descending from the sky, exuding elegance and power, radiating a pressure that seemed to instill fear in everyone.
The entire crowd went completely silent, as if awe-struck by his appearance.
He was clearly a high-ranking official of the Golden Sword Sect, here to address the participants of the entrance exam.
"Such a show-off. There's always someone like this in organizations like sects or academies," Ethan chuckled to himself.
He had seen hundreds of people like this before.
They always tried to make themselves appear powerful, wise, and intimidating, ensuring they made a strong first impression on newcomers.
"Let's see what he has to say," Ethan watched as the man landed on the elevated ground at one end of the arena, where he could see every participant below clearly.
The man observed the participants for a couple of minutes through the awkward silence before addressing the hundreds of attendees.
"I am the sect master of the Golden Sword Sect. I welcome all of you who have shown up here, hoping to earn a place in the Golden Sword Sect. Unfortunately, most of you will never get in. It is just the way it is. So I won't bore you with useless talk. Let us get straight to business."
"Anyone who does not want to work hard, is incapable of training under pressure, lacks discipline, shows arrogance or laziness, or just wants to fool around should turn around and leave. This is not the place for you," the sect master continued, maintaining a serious and intimidating expression.
"This is a place for those who are truly hardworking. Talent alone is not enough. We expect your absolute best performance, and those who do not show growth or cannot show growth should not be here. If there are such people in the crowd, now is the time to leave before we unpleasantly force you out."
The man waited for the crowd to absorb his words, and after a couple of seconds, a few participants seemed to give up even before anything had started and turned to leave.
"There is no shame in accepting your limits, but it would be a shame if you refuse to challenge them," the Sect Master said.
He didn't even bat an eye at those who were leaving.
"Let's talk about the entrance exam. There are three levels that will determine your place within the sect," he continued, raising three fingers.
"The first test will measure your willpower," he said, putting down his middle finger.
"We at the Golden Sword Sect prioritize hard work over mere talent and potential. If you don't have the willpower to endure the challenges, you won't survive here."
"Hard work over talent…" Ethan's curiosity was piqued.
In the worlds he had lived in, he had been enrolled in an academy for Aura Masters, practitioners similar to Qi cultivators, where talent was prioritized over hard work.
Even in the world of Arcane, where he had lived before ending up in this world, mages valued talent over effort.
Almost every experience he had in life, as part of an academy or organization similar to a sect, had shown him that they always valued talent over hard work, even when hard workers eventually outperformed the naturally talented.
Their logic always resulted in bottlenecks that hard work alone could never overcome without extreme amounts of time and resources.
"I wonder if Qi cultivation has no such bottlenecks," Ethan thought.
He didn't believe that would be the case, because all methods of cultivation, at their core, were fundamentally similar.
The same limitations should apply to Qi cultivation as well.
"The second test will assess your fighting skills," the Sect Master said, putting down his thumb.
"Because if you are serious about this life, you would have already trained for it. So it shouldn't be hard for you to demonstrate your abilities. Of course, we don't expect professional-level skills. Just enough to show that you have put in some effort."
"The third test is the most important of all, and also the simplest," he said, putting down his index finger. "We will test whether you have an affinity for Qi."
"Now, before the tests begin, you shall have your identity registered," the Sect Master announced, waving his hand, which glowed with light blue energy.
In the next second, hundreds of pentagon-shaped stone shards flew from somewhere and landed before each participant.
Each bore a strange marking on one side and a very small, sharp protrusion at the top, like a needle, with a chain to hang the shard around the neck.
"Use the needle to pierce your finger, let a drop of your blood fall on the stone shard, and then speak your name," the Sect Master instructed.
Ethan followed the instructions, grabbing the stone shard and pressing his finger against the needle.
His blood dripped onto the stone and was absorbed immediately.
Then he spoke his name.
"Ethan Valerius."
In the next instant, his name appeared on the other side of the stone shard, glowing faintly before disappearing.
He then hung the identification shard around his neck.
"This looks like another enchantment. I guess Qi does have some similarities to Mana," Ethan thought, curiosity piqued.
"Now, I will excuse myself... the examiners will take over the entrance exams," the Sect Master said as he swiftly flew away.
But Ethan was sure the Sect Master would be watching the test closely from somewhere.
As soon as he left, five people who looked like they were in their early to late twenties, three women and two men, flew in and landed on the elevated podium, each holding a stone tablet in their hands.
They seemed to be elders of the sect.
Unlike what many people assumed, Elders didn't necessarily mean they were old.
It was simply a position in the sect, and cultivators of any age could be elders.
"We will be conducting the tests," one of the elders said aloud.
"For the first test, you have to withstand our spiritual pressure for the full fourteen minutes," another elder declared.
"Should be easy enough," Ethan smiled slightly.
The elders didn't give the participants any chance to prepare.
They released their mountainous pressure like floodgates opening, waves of spiritual weight crashing down on each and every one of the participants.
Everyone felt as if they were trying to run against an intense, unrelenting storm.
"They're not holding back at all, are they?" Ethan muttered.
The pressure was no joke; it couldn't be taken lightly.
And he didn't believe this was the end of it.
The pressure wasn't just affecting the mind; it was crushing the body as well.
One had to hold on to both willpower and consciousness, making sure the body didn't collapse before the mind gave out.
Two minutes passed, and Ethan, along with almost everyone else, managed to hold on without much struggle.
Then suddenly, the pressure that had felt like running against fierce wind transformed into the crushing weight of being underwater at a shallow depth.
Everyone felt as though their limbs were being pulled in every direction.
"Now they're making actual waves..." Ethan grinned with a sadistic smile, his fist tightening as if he were enjoying it.
The entire atmosphere seemed submerged in a light blue energy.
Their pressure filled the place, making even the air stand still, so heavy it was hard to breathe.
As seconds ticked by, the weight only grew wilder.
Seven minutes passed.
Dozens of participants, unable to handle the pressure, collapsed to the ground.
But the examiners didn't stop the test, nor did they care for the fallen ones.
At the halfway mark, the pressure suddenly vanished for a fleeting moment.
But when it returned, it came back many times stronger.
The weight that had felt like shallow underwater pressure transformed into something far worse, an overwhelming force that not only pulled at their limbs but buried them alive in invisible earth.
It was suffocating, as though even the act of being alive was unbearable.
The pressure gnawed at their minds, whispering that giving up would be easier than holding on.
As soon as this phase began, dozens more participants collapsed one after another.
Sweat dripped down Ethan's skin.
He too felt like giving up, just like the others.
That was the entire point of the test: to make them want to surrender, to force them to push through the extreme urge to give in.
Ethan closed his eyes and began to put his experience to use.
His heart pounded faster and faster, his chest ached, and pain crawled through every inch of his body.
He loosened his fist as if he were about to give up, but he wasn't.
He let the crushing pressure assault his body as much as it wanted, while he shifted all his focus onto his mind.
An image formed in his consciousness, he was submerged in water that constantly shifted between scalding heat and freezing cold.
The grunting and rasping noises around him blurred into silence.
Ethan's perception of time sped up, racing far beyond reality.
"Hmm... that boy is holding on much better than the others," the Sect Master muttered as he watched the brown-haired, green-eyed youth standing firm among the struggling participants through the system screen.
Unlike the others, who were either down on all fours or completely collapsed, Ethan stood tall.
It was as though he were enjoying a morning breeze, even while blood trickled from his nose, mouth, and ears, and his robes tore against the scratch marks searing into his skin.
Before long, the full fourteen minutes had passed.
The examiners finally stopped releasing their pressure.
Ethan opened his eyes, bloodshot and burning, and gasped for breath.
Around him, hundreds of participants lay unconscious, undoubtedly rejected from advancing any further in the entrance exam.
As soon as the first test came to an end, the identification shards hanging around the necks of those who had failed shattered into pieces.
At the same moment, the names of the holders of those broken shards vanished from the stone tablets held by the five examiners, signifying their failure to pass the test.
...
[A/N: If you liked this chapter, don't forget to donate some POWER STONES and add it to your library. No pressure! Thank you for checking out the novel.]