Chapter Nineteen: The Academy’s Ceremony

"Silence."
A commanding voice echoed from the high platform above.

Instantly, the entire assembly of new students fell quiet as if a flock of birds had been scattered. From among the thirteen figures on the stage, an elder in a Daoist robe stepped forward.

"I am Zhang Daoyi, principal of the Metropolitan Cultivation Academy. Welcome, all of you, to the academy. Here, you will receive the finest guidance in cultivation, and here, you will grow to become the backbone of our great nation. On behalf of the academy, I welcome you once again."

With those words, Zhang Daoyi turned and floated away, truly taking flight, soaring toward the rear of the campus.

Yang Fan knew that upon reaching a certain realm in cultivation, one’s entire aura would surge, allowing flight. Such feats had only been recorded in manuals and texts, but seeing it with his own eyes today strengthened his resolve to cultivate.

Not for anything else, but simply to fly.

Since ancient times, countless people have dreamed of conquering the skies. To fly has been a universal longing.

Now, with the resurgence of spiritual energy, some have finally achieved this dream. Witnessing it firsthand was overwhelming—this was not mere flight, but conquest.

The students below, who had just quieted, began buzzing with excitement again.

"Flying! He can really fly! I thought it was just exaggerated talk. I thought it was just a powerful leap!"

"That's the principal—a master of the tenth realm, a Martial Emperor!"

"I will conquer the skies too. I must cultivate diligently!"

Voices of discussion rose all around.

It had been ten years since the resurgence of spiritual energy, and for ten years the government had tightly locked away information about cultivators.

Most ordinary people only knew of their strength and privileges, but not the true extent of their power, nor why the government invested so heavily in their training.

To the average person, technology and weaponry seemed powerful enough. How could mere flesh surpass bullets? Outmatch rockets? Outgun anti-air artillery? Surpass nuclear weapons?

They had no idea what crises cultivators faced. They thought ruins were merely ruins, unaware of what lay within.

The government sealed all information, not to stir chaos among the public, but for the sake of societal stability.

To repel external threats, one must first secure internal order—if chaos erupted within, hope would be lost. Every nation did the same. The people believed the world was unchanged, living in what seemed an idyllic era, complaining idly about the privileged class—the cultivators.

"Alright, settle down. You’ll have plenty of time to discuss later."

Another figure stepped onto the platform—it was the Director of Education, Zhou Haifeng, father of Zhou Yiyi and Zhou Ting.

The crowd fell silent once more.

"Greetings, everyone. I am Zhou Haifeng, Director of Academic Affairs. You are here because you possess exceptional talent and have chosen the path of cultivation. But I must ask: do you dare, or do you have the courage, to become true masters among cultivators?"

"Like our principal?"

Zhou Haifeng called out in a ringing voice.

No one replied; the students were unsure how to respond.

"Why not dare?"

Yang Fan shouted boldly.

Zhou Haifeng looked at Yang Fan, whose face was flushed.

At that moment, Yang Fan felt a bit uncertain—why had he called out? The sensation of being the focus of everyone’s gaze was uncomfortable, but he hadn’t thought much before speaking; he simply felt compelled.

"Good, at least someone dares to speak up! Well said—why not dare? Masters all started as ordinary people, not born strong. Aside from this one, does anyone else dare?"

Zhou Haifeng’s voice resonated.

This time, shouts erupted throughout the audience.

"Dare!"

"Why not dare!"

"I dare too!"

"We all dare!"

...

"Excellent. Since you all wish to be masters, I will observe what happens next—to see if your words are empty, or if you truly possess the courage. The freshman entrance ceremony now begins—a tradition of our academy and a rite of welcome.

Most of you know there are three major branches in the Metropolitan Cultivation Academy: Combat, Command, and Manufacturing. Let me clarify.

The allocation of cultivation resources among the three branches differs, and not by a small margin. The Combat Academy receives the most, comprising forty-five percent of the annual resources. The Command Academy receives thirty percent, and Manufacturing receives twenty-five percent.

Want to become stronger? Without resources, how can you grow stronger? But cultivation has never been fair. Your first lesson at the academy is ‘striving.’ For martial artists, striving is the simplest truth. Now, you embark on your first trial.

Soon, all of you will go to an island, where you must survive for forty-eight hours.

There, you will face many fierce beasts, mutated by spiritual energy. Your task: slay as many beasts as you can—there is no limit. Return to your landing point within forty-eight hours. The first three hundred to finish will enter the Combat Academy; the next six hundred will join the Command Academy; the rest will go to Manufacturing. Those who fail to complete the task or descend the mountain in time will be eliminated and expelled. Of course, the beasts are formidable, and you may face mortal danger. If you wish to withdraw, now is the time."

Having spoken, Zhou Haifeng ignored the now chaotic students below and departed with the instructors, leaping off the platform.

"How can this be? I’ve never heard of entering school by fighting mutated beasts!"

"Yes, I haven’t cultivated yet—I’m still just an ordinary person. You want me to kill beasts? Impossible!"

"I don’t want to! I won’t go! Sob…"

"This is too much! Most of us are ordinary people, even if we have talent, we have no combat experience and haven’t trained. Our bodies are no different from any other. Sending us to battle beasts—isn’t that sending us to our deaths?"

Yang Fan watched the crowd—some wept, some raged, some were in disbelief, some yelled at the instructors maintaining order.

He felt little. First, he was already a cultivator, at the peak of the first realm; ordinary beasts posed no threat. The reactions around him seemed natural—a normal person told to fight wild beasts would surely cry.

Yang Fan couldn’t understand why the academy chose this method. Some freshmen were from families that had already trained, some were at the first realm, but most were ordinary people, with no cultivation, no strengthened bodies. To fight beasts seemed like suicide. He couldn’t fathom the academy’s decision.

The sound of weeping persisted.

Half an hour later, Zhou Haifeng returned, leaping onto the platform.

"Well? Does anyone wish to withdraw?"

His face was solemn.

"Teacher, why? Why must we face fierce beasts now? We’re still ordinary, haven’t trained, no combat experience—isn’t this sending us to die?"

"Yes, teacher, why?"

"We came to cultivate, not to die!"

Shouts and curses erupted below. In the face of despair, no one cared about rank—when hope is lost, venting is all that matters, even to the powerful.

"Cultivation? Of course I know you came to cultivate. Spiritual energy has been revived for ten years—you’ve lived on this land for ten years, and your strength is not what it was. Have you truly not noticed? Ten years ago, ordinary people could hunt beasts. How do you compare to them now? Crying and complaining to me about cultivation? If so, even if you cultivate, you’ll remain ordinary, only slightly stronger. The academy will not send you to die, but neither will it accept cowards unwilling to face any risk. Whether you stay or leave is your choice—we will not force you. Furthermore, even though the beasts have mutated, they are only more robust. With your intelligence, your wits, you can overcome them. Ten minutes to prepare—those withdrawing, do so quickly. Those staying, take what you need. In ten minutes, we depart."

With that, Zhou Haifeng no longer looked at the students.

Ten minutes passed, students withdrew one by one. After Zhou Haifeng’s words, only a small number left.

Yang Fan counted—148 withdrew, insignificant among over two thousand new students.

Dozens of buses arrived from inside the campus.

"Everyone, board the buses—no disorder."

Seeing the buses approach, instructors began organizing the students.

Once all were aboard, the buses slowly rolled forward.

The academy gates opened.

Every time Yang Fan saw those massive gates, he felt a sense of oppression.

As the campus faded from view, Yang Fan knew his first battle was about to begin. Even if the opponents were not human, even if they lacked intelligence, this first battle would stir his heart.

...

Arrival at the port, boarding the ship.

The sea was calm, the large vessel gliding across the water. It was Yang Fan’s first time on a ship. Standing on the deck, eyes fixed on the sea, he found his heart far less tranquil than the waves.

He wasn’t going to kill humans, but could he truly fight?

He gripped the long blade in his hand, beginning to realize that the path of cultivation might not be as glorious or passionate as he imagined. Even though he was prepared, a sense of fear lingered.

"Hey, what are you doing? Planning to jump overboard?"

Zhou Yiyi’s voice sounded behind him.

Yang Fan turned, seeing her youthful yet striking face.

"You’re the one planning to jump."

He replied irritably.

Zhou Yiyi teased, "Well, your temper’s grown in just a few days. Fine, fine, I won’t joke."

She had intended to mock him further, but seeing his troubled expression, she changed the subject. "Yang Fan, let’s work together once we land. The beasts may lack intelligence, but caution is best. We’re both first realm martial apprentices—together, the risk is minimal."

Her tone became serious.

"We’ll see. My mind’s a mess right now."

Yang Fan turned again to the calm sea. He wasn’t worried about danger on the island, but questioned whether this path he had chosen was right, whether it was what he truly desired.