The stone shards not only acted as identification for the participants, but also as an announcement: if a shard broke on its own, it meant the person it belonged to had failed the entrance exam.
It wasn't that hard for Ethan to pass, except that he had to let his current body endure all the assaults of the extreme level of pressure.
As a result, he ended up with sharp cuts all over his body, blood leaking from his orifices, and a burning sensation racing through his nerves.
Even breathing hurt.
In exchange for keeping his mind intact, Ethan allowed his body to take all the damage, but in the process, he pushed it a little too far.
"This is going to be tough… this body is untrained and weak. I don't think it'll be able to withstand the second test, where I'm supposed to show my skills," Ethan muttered under his breath.
Skills themselves were not a problem for Ethan. He was probably the most skilled among everyone in this sect.
With the experiences of one hundred full lives behind him, his real concern was whether his current body could handle performing the techniques at all.
"I don't need to show my best skills, just enough to pass. But what if my body can't handle it, and I cripple myself beyond recovery? Won't they take that as a reason to fail me?" Ethan pondered silently, failing to notice the small, two-inch round object floating in front of him.
One of the five elders spoke:
"Those who passed the first test will receive a medicinal pill. It will help you recover some of your strength, but don't expect it to heal your injuries."
"They could have at least added the benefit of healing injuries…" Ethan sighed.
He grabbed the pill and tossed it into his mouth.
The moment he bit into it, the pill burst apart, turning into a powder-like substance that instantly flowed into his system.
He immediately felt refreshed.
Even though the elder had said it would not heal injuries, it did a surprisingly good job of preventing them from worsening.
His bleeding stopped, and the pain eased a little, certainly a vast improvement from how he had been feeling earlier.
"I still feel sore and dehydrated…" Ethan sighed again as he watched more than a hundred participants being sent out after failing the first test.
Not everyone who collapsed under the pressure was eliminated.
Only those who could not endure it for at least seven minutes were sent away.
"Well, on to the second test. To test your skills, we shall have the participants fight against a sect member in a one-on-one battle. To make it fair, you may choose a weapon of your choice," one of the elders said as he snapped his fingers.
In the next second, ten sect members appeared, all wielding swords.
The elder then went on to explain the test.
It's quite simple.
Each participant will have three and a half minutes to fight with a sect member.
Within that time frame, the participants must demonstrate what they can do or at least what they have learned.
As explained by the examiner, the participants may choose any weapon they like: sword, spear, hammer, or even hand-to-hand combat, if they believe they can face a sword barehanded.
The sect members, however, will all use swords of the same size and shape.
There were 369 participants who had managed to pass the first test.
The ten sect members will fight ten participants at the same time.
Each match will be held within a designated area of the arena grounds.
The order of battle will be determined by the random numbers that appeared on the identification shards beneath the names of the participants.
Ethan's number was 69, which meant he would be fighting in the seventh round.
The first ten participants stepped onto the battleground and chose their weapons from the table full of arms placed nearby.
The remaining participants were sent to the bleachers to await their turn.
Ethan also took his seat in the bleachers, watching the fights intently with his sharp eyesight.
One thing he could not complain about was his body.
It was perfectly fine.
His eyesight, hearing, and sense of smell were all in peak condition.
Added to that was the bonus of good looks.
The first round began.
The participants fought with everything they had against the sect members.
The sect members, however, refrained from using any supernatural abilities gained from cultivation.
They relied purely on physical strength, which matched that of the participants.
Interestingly, the sect members also appeared to be around the same age as the participants.
The fights were not about winning.
They were about demonstrating skill.
All the participants had to do was show what they were capable of.
Ethan closely observed the ten sect members, the way they fought, the way they moved, and their swordsmanship.
"All of them have their own style of swinging the sword," Ethan noted.
"Three rely mainly on speed and fast strikes. Another three use unique techniques. One always aims for blind spots. Another targets the limb joints. And the last two, they must be brothers. They are the worst of the lot, brutal and relentless, striking like madmen without giving their opponents a chance to retaliate."
"What are the chances that I end up against one of them?" Ethan sighed.
"Probably pretty high."
"If I were to fight them, my skills would not matter. They are much faster and stronger than me, too fast for my current body to handle. They would not give me a chance to fight back, and if I cannot fight back, I will not be able to show off my skills to pass this test."
Ethan clicked his tongue, trying to come up with a strategy in case he ended up against one of those two, since opponents were chosen at random.
Soon, the sixth round was completed, and Ethan's turn came.
He stepped onto the ground, and his opponent also stepped forward.
"Can't say I didn't expect this. Shit like this happens all the time," Ethan snorted, looking at his opponent.
It was none other than one of the two twin brothers, the brutal fighters.
Ethan already knew he would be matched with one of them.
Maybe it had something to do with his never-ending reincarnations; he always seemed to find himself in tight or ridiculous situations, at the center of big conspiracies that constantly put him in danger, facing life-and-death battles.
Ignoring his opponent, Ethan went to pick his weapon.
Usually, he would have chosen a spear.
He was more familiar with spears than with swords.
But the situation did not allow it.
His opponent fought brutally, attacking with fast, relentless movements.
Ethan needed something smaller, a weapon that would let him defend precisely with minimal effort.
So he picked a short sword, a blade about the length of his forearm, with a firm, gripped handle.
He had considered using a huge greatsword to compensate for his lack of strength if he were matched against someone else.
But against one of the twins, he needed every bit of speed he could muster, forcing his body to its current limit.
Ethan stepped onto the training ground and gripped his sword tightly with both hands, taking a balanced stance just like his opponent.
Neither spoke.
After a few seconds, a ringing sound echoed.
In the next instant, both Ethan and his opponent blasted forward at full speed, sprinting toward each other and swinging their swords.
Their blades collided, creating a teeth-clenching clang that stopped them in their tracks.
A sharp pain surged through Ethan's nerves.
"Damn, I can't believe how weak this body is…" Ethan gritted his teeth.
Using all his strength, he tried to parry, but his opponent was much faster.
The twin shoved his sword aside and unleashed a barrage of relentless strikes, one after another.
Ethan was forced backward, overwhelmed by brute strength and speed.
He could do nothing but hold his sword against the onslaught.
Every impact sent fresh waves of sharp pain through his arms, making his hands go numb.
There was nothing he could do.
His current body was just too weak.
His opponent was far superior in every aspect, especially stamina and strength.
He would drag out the full three-and-a-half-minute fight without stopping, just as he had done for the last six rounds of his battles.
Ethan had to come up with something, or he would fail this test.
The participants weren't the only ones watching from the bleachers; some sect members were observing as well, along with the high-ranking officials of the sect, who watched from afar.
Among them were two of the three people who had guided Ethan to the central palace.
"Hey, look, it's that guy we brought. Looks like he's in a tight spot," Jin said.
"He's up against one of those troublemakers who got in last year… Do you think he stands a chance?" Enan asked.
"Don't know. Most probably not," Jin replied.
Elsewhere, inside a vast library, Kiara and another woman wearing the same robes as the other elders of the sect were also watching the entrance exam through a floating system prompt before them.
"that's him?" the woman asked, glancing at Kiara.
"Yes, it's him. He was the only unusual thing we found in that area," Kiara replied.
"Did you check to see if he had anything odd or unusual on him?" the woman asked.
"Yes, he was completely empty," Kiara answered before turning her attention back to the system prompt.
...
[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.]