Thud! Thud! Thud!

  Within a mere ten-meter sprint, three hulking Delo barbarians were slammed backward by the Mage Hand.

  With Pierce’s current spiritual intensity, the energy density of his Mage Hand was infinitesimally close to 5 Degrees. Such force was sufficient to physically simulate the full-strength blow of a High Knight—far beyond what these barbarians, possessing only Trainee Knight physiques, could withstand.

  At the moment of impact, large mists of blood erupted from the gaps in their primitive armor. They didn't even have the chance to scream; upon hitting the ground, their torsos were twisted into agonizing angles, dead on the spot.

  This sight caused the hearts of the remaining warriors to shatter with terror.

  "A Rank 2 Initiate!"

  The barbarian Centurion leading the group turned deathly pale. He had initially thought the figure wandering the forest fringe was a soft target, never expecting to kick a plate of Arcane-forged alloy. Yet, there was no turning back; the instincts triggered by the scent of blood drove them to continue their charge. In close-quarters combat, they thought they might still have a one-in-ten-thousand chance.

  However, in the next second, a stroke of pale green sword-light, as cold as moonlight, utterly pulverized their delusions.

  The blade swept through them like a scythe through dry grass. Pierce’s form flickered in the gloom of the jungle, and with every rotation of his longsword, a lethal line of blood was drawn. In less than half a minute, the entire hunting party was wiped out, leaving only the terrified Centurion.

  "P... Peak Knight?"

  The Centurion offered a bitter smile and dropped his rusted axe in despair. Immediately after, an invisible Arcane palm descended from the heavens, slamming his hulking frame deep into the muddy humus of the forest floor. As the blood mist cleared, the jungle returned to a deathly silence.

  Pierce stood amidst the scattered corpses, his expression as calm as a mirror.

  Compared to the High Knights he had eliminated in that slum alleyway, the current scene was far bloodier due to the nature of melee execution. The resistance of the blade slicing through skin and the hiss of blood splashing onto verdant leaves should have unnerved a young initiate. But perhaps because his Spirit of 43.83 units had pushed his soul toward a state of cold rationality, his heart remained undisturbed.

  Under the sky of the Delo Plane, slaughter held no distinction between justice and evil. The barbarians hunted initiates to buy their freedom; initiates hunted barbarians to ascend the ladder of truth.

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  Here, the Law of the Jungle was the only criterion.

  "Power is the only Truth."

  Pierce extended his left hand. Sensing its master’s intent, the crystal bracelet instantly extended over a dozen translucent, indigo threads that pierced into the remains like tentacles.

  With a faint spiritual tremor, pale gray energy flowed back into the bracelet along the threads.

  Delo Barbarian (Trainee Rank) slain, Points +1.

  Delo Barbarian (Junior Rank) slain, Points +5.

  When all soul energy was drained, the numerical value displayed on the bracelet shifted to 37. His ranking on the academy-wide leaderboard climbed accordingly, resting at 25th place.

  "Even 37 Points isn't enough to break into the top twenty. The intensity of the competition is indeed higher than projected."

  Pierce murmured softly before stroking the black markings on his wrist. "Mistfeather."

  A mass of pitch-black shadow surged from his cuff, condensing in the air into a crow with eyes like dark red gems. It landed lightly on Pierce’s shoulder, affectionately pecking at his cheek.

  "Go. Scout the surrounding area."

  Mistfeather spread its wings, black energy churning around its body as it instantly fractured into over a hundred translucent Mist-Crows. They skimmed low through the trees, spreading out in a massive reconnaissance web.

  Meanwhile, on the deck of the floating leviathan hovering above the clouds.

  Three official Arcanists stood with their hands behind their backs, facing hundreds of clear lenses constructed from water elements. These mirrors provided a real-time broadcast of the blood-soaked maneuvers across the island.

  Gaius spoke with a faint smile. "The crop of talent this year is indeed exceptional. 125 Rank 2 Initiates—this is a rare peak in our enrollment records over the last half-century."

  "Not a single Rank 3 Initiate among them. They are nothing more than ants in greater numbers," Mordred sneered, his pale fingers stroking a skeletal staff. "I can't believe the Headmaster expects these brats to hunt down the heretics hiding in the shadows. I’m afraid they’ll be slaughtered instead."

  "Don't be so harsh, Mordred," Gaius shook his head, looking toward one of the lenses. "The performances of Gwendolyn, Ingram, and Silas have already surpassed the standards of their peers. Especially Gwendolyn—her mastery over the family’s gem magic is quite seasoned."

  In the mirror, Gwendolyn gracefully tossed a crimson Sunstone. The gem, upon making contact with a barbarian lord’s armor, instantly released a violent Fireball equivalent to a Rank 1 spell. Under that crimson tongue of flame, even a barbarian with the physique of a High Knight was instantly vaporized.

  "The successor of the House of Gwen is indeed remarkable," the Grand Examiner, Avery, spoke slowly, his tone carrying a rare hint of approval.

  However, just as his gaze swept aimlessly across the periphery, he let out a sharp "Hmph" of surprise, his eyes fixating on an inconspicuous lens in the upper right corner.

  Gaius and Mordred followed his gaze in unison.

  In the mirror, a black-robed initiate stood calmly in the center of a jungle, while above him, hundreds of uncanny black crows were shrieking as they dispersed into the forest sea.

  "Is that... Pierce?" The surprise in Gaius’s eyes flashed briefly.

  Avery turned back to look at him. "You recognize this young man?"

  "We’ve crossed paths once. His spell models seem to have undergone deep personal optimization," Gaius briefly recounted the past incident involving the demonized.

  "An interesting little fellow," Avery’s profound eyes flickered with curiosity. "Not only does he possess optimized Rank 0 spells, but he has also contracted a mutated familiar with multiple spell-like abilities."

  "If nurtured correctly, that crow’s combat power might one day transcend its current life tier."

  "This trial might just yield some unexpected surprises."