The Martial Exam was the empire’s big talent hunt, naturally a top priority, fairness a must.
The Prefecture Lord and the imperial envoy took their seats up front.
“Prefecture Lord, any standout talents in Dongyuan this year?” the envoy asked.
The exam ran yearly, so not every batch had dazzling stars.
“There’s one, Cao Ping, he’s the likeliest to take the crown, even has a shot at the national round,” the Prefecture Lord said, stroking his beard.
“I’ve been in Dongyuan a few days, heard folks buzzing about a Lin Yun, I had him checked—he’s signed up, what’s he like?” the envoy said.
The Prefecture Lord shook his head, “He’ll crack the top twenty no sweat, but first? Cao Ping’s got him beat.”
Three months back, he’d sent his son to recruit Lin Yun, only to get brushed off.
He knew all about it.
The envoy glanced at the sun, “Time’s about right, let’s kick off.”
A herald bellowed, “Martial Exam Prefecture Round One—Survival Match! All candidates, grab your numbers with your entry tokens, get ready!”
Lin Yun headed to the lineup.
Over ten thousand contestants total.
Signup was the first filter—under 500 years old and below Void Spirit realm? No chance, the empire wanted the elite of the elite!
With the exam yearly, each prefecture round drew around ten thousand.
They split into 100 groups, 100 per group.
The massive plaza was marked with 100 huge circles, each an arena.
The place was so vast, it could handle a thousand, ten thousand circles, no sweat.
This survival round—each group fought in their circle till one remained, that’s your winner.
Lin Yun drew number 93, so he stepped into the 93rd arena.
It was football-field-sized, plenty of room for a hundred.
“He’s the one who beat Wei Qi!”
“Blimey, I’m up against him in the survival round?”
Loads of the 93rd arena’s contestants paled seeing Lin Yun.
“What’s to fear? I don’t buy he’s that tough! Can he take on 99 of us?”
Some weren’t scared off.
All players filled the other arenas too.
“This round’s survival—whoever’s last standing makes the top hundred!”
“I declare, the match begins now!”
The referee’s shout rang out.
It was on!
Spectators hushed, eyes on the arenas.
Even if you couldn’t hit the top twenty, top hundred earned an imperial ‘Martial Scholar’ token—good for snagging jobs in counties or towns below.
Plus, it was bragging rights—say you’d cracked the prefecture exam’s top hundred, a Martial Scholar, and folks would perk up.
So, contestants went all-in for that top hundred.
As it kicked off, battles erupted across the arenas.
Lin Yun’s ring.
Everyone held back, staring at him.
They knew he was the toughest nut here.
Seeing the looks, Lin Yun clasped his fists, “Folks, step off the stage, save yourselves the hurt.”
If it came to blows, they wouldn’t fill his teeth—leaving now spared blood.
That sparked a uproar—99 contestants’ faces twisted!
Mad!
Bloody mad!
Lin Yun meant no harm.
But to them, it screamed arrogance!
“Kid, you’re too full of yourself!”
“Let’s gang up! Take him out first, then we’ll sort it!”
“Yeah, yeah! Down him first!”
They rallied, some charging with weapons, others blasting attacks from afar.
“Look at 93—everyone’s piling on that Lin Yun!”
“He’s supposed to be hot stuff, but 99 ganging up? That’ll test him!”
The scene stunned the crowd.
Mo Clan’s father and son watched.
“Hmph, cocky prat, if he flops this round, that’s a right laugh!” Clan Leader Mo sneered.
Zhu Clan’s duo saw Lin Yun swarmed—knowing his skill, they still fretted a bit.
Up front.
“Oh? 99 against one? Rare for a prefecture survival round,” the envoy perked up.
“Too full of himself, no surprise he’s ticked them off,” the Prefecture Lord sat unfazed on his throne.
On the arena.
*Boom boom boom!*
Forty-plus glowing strikes—fists, palms, fingers, all shapes—blasted at Lin Yun with varying force, a dazzling barrage!
The multicolored lights swelled in his pupils at breakneck speed, set to slam him in a blink.
Behind that, forty-plus weapon-wielders charged.
Lin Yun just stood there, still.
“Why’s he not moving?”
The crowd gawked.
*Boom boom boom!*
Explosions rang as the forty-plus strikes hit, dumping their power on him.
Light cleared, all eyes locked on.
Lin Yun stood calm, unscathed!
*Gasp!*
“He… he didn’t move, just tanked it—insane defense!”
Seeing him shrug it off, the crowd sucked in air.
Even a ace third-rank Mahayana realm cultivator could dodge or block that, but tank it with their body?
Almost no Mahayana realm cultivator would dare!
For most, the body’s a weak spot.
Take Wei Qi—brilliant as he was, if he’d tried tanking that, he’d have been toast!
Even normals used weapons or gear to block—only a nutter would body-block attacks!
“Tanking it with his body? His refining technique must be top-notch, or he’s got killer armor,” the envoy eyed the stage.
On the arena.
After eating the ranged hits, the melee crew closed in.
“Sorry folks, 93’s first place is mine.”
Lin Yun spoke, waved, and 128 flying swords flashed out, glowing with fierce power, tearing toward them.
