Chapter 151: Chapter 151: Trial Ends
Chapter 151: Trial Ends
A collective wave of disbelief rippled through the Colosseum.
No punishment? No retaliation?
The boy had literally kicked their Inner Palace disciple out of the ring by his backside, and Elder Fabian was simply... ending the trial?
Up on the elevated platform, Calanthe’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly, her fury evaporating into bewildered confusion.
The other Stormveil disciples exchanged stunned glances, none of them daring to voice what they were all thinking.
But Fabian’s reasoning was painfully simple, even if he didn’t voice it aloud.
Navarre had been defeated fair and square, within the rules he himself was enforcing.
To punish the candidate who had outperformed the examiner would be to admit that the Stormveil Academy couldn’t handle losing — and that was a far greater humiliation than any butt-kick.
Besides, what Fabian had witnessed in those few minutes was far more valuable than Navarre’s bruised ego.
A peak Essence Condensation cultivator with an awakened Spiritual Sense of unfathomable density.
Movement techniques so refined that a Level 3 Spirit Manifestation expert couldn’t land a single blow.
And the casual composure of someone who hadn’t even considered the fight a challenge.
The boy was a monster hiding in plain sight.
Down in the ring, the realization hit the remaining one hundred and thirty candidates like a wave of warm sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
They had passed.
"We... we survived?"
"The trial is over! We actually made it!"
"HAHAHAHA! I passed the Stormveil Academy’s second trial!"
Jubilant cheers erupted from within the stone circle.
Young men and women embraced one another, tears of relief streaming down faces that had been locked in terror mere minutes ago.
But amidst the celebration, every single one of them — without exception — turned their gazes toward the dark-robed youth standing quietly.
They all knew.
If Rhain hadn’t intervened, Navarre would have continued his relentless elimination spree.
At the rate he had been going, fewer than fifteen of them would have survived the full ten minutes.
But by forcing Navarre out of the ring and ending the trial prematurely, Rhain had single-handedly saved over a hundred candidates from elimination.
Even Elian, the three-hundred-foot prodigy, stared at Rhain with an expression of admiration.
Not far from him stood, Sylvan his silver longsword still gripped tightly in his hand as he looked at Rhain with complex emotions.
He had once mocked Rhain for being too weak, and afraid to spar in the Silvercrest Clan, but today if not for him, he wasn’t sure whether his proud strength could get him through this phase of trial.
Liana also looked at Rhain with a face full of gratitude, and hope. Although she knew that the gap between them was widening with each passing second, atleast she now had the chance to go to the Stormveil Academy, and stay close to him.
Fabian descended from the elevated platform once more, landing at the center of the arena.
The celebrations instantly ceased. Every candidate straightened their posture and fell silent.
Fabian’s piercing gaze swept over the surviving candidates before settling on Rhain, "As I promised at the outset, any candidate who demonstrates extraordinary performance during the trials will be rewarded accordingly. You forced an examiner out of the designated boundary before the time elapsed. Since you have proven your extraordinary combat instincts, I guarantee you the status of an Inner Palace disciple upon our return to the Academy!"
The crowd buzzed with murmurs.
An Inner Palace disciple!
To the geniuses of the Outer Frontier, simply entering the Stormveil Academy as an Outer Court disciple was a dream they would gladly risk their lives for.
To be instantly granted the exalted status of an Inner Palace disciple was akin to leaping to the sky in a single step!
However, under the envious and awestruck gazes of a hundred thousand people, Rhain’s expression did not ripple in the slightest.
He slowly shook his head.
"I appreciate Elder Fabian’s recognition," Rhain replied calmly. "However, I must decline the Inner Palace placement."
Fabian’s eyebrows shot upward. "Decline?"
Rhain continued without pause, his dark grey eyes unwavering. "My wife has been granted the status of a Core Palace Disciple. I wish to be assigned the same rank. I will not accept anything less."
"..."
A ripple of incredulous whispers spread through the elevated platform.
Even the three overlords felt a cold sweat break out across their forehead.
This boy was truly fearless!
He was actually daring to negotiate with a supreme entity from the Inner Province!
Fabian stared at Rhain for a long moment, before a hearty laugh escaped his lips.
"Hahaha! What an arrogant, ambitious brat!" Fabian shook his head, though there was no anger in his tone. "However, while I appreciate your ambition, I must tell you the truth. As an Inner Palace Preceptor, it is simply not within my power to grant anyone the status of a Core Palace disciple. That authority rests solely with the Dean of our Academy."
Fabian’s expression turned solemn. "The most I can do is make a formal recommendation for you. Once we return, I will present your case to the Dean. Whether you are accepted into the Core Palace or not... that will be entirely up to her to decide."
Rhain thought for a fraction of a second, then gave a slow, satisfied nod. "That is acceptable. I thank Elder Fabian."
Standing outside the boundary line, Navarre’s handsome face twisted into a visage of unspeakable ugliness.
His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles popped, and his eyes were entirely bloodshot with a venomous, all-consuming jealousy.
He had wanted Rhain to be eliminated and disgraced.
But instead?
Instead, this nameless commoner from the Outer Frontier had humiliated him in front of a hundred thousand spectators, been granted the same Inner Palace status that Navarre himself held, and was now being recommended for Core Palace — a position that Navarre couldn’t even dream of achieving in his entire lifetime!
The jealousy was like a burning poison coursing through his veins.
"Just you wait," Navarre hissed under his breath, his eyes boring into Rhain’s back like venomous needles. "You only know how to run. That bizarre movement technique is your only trick. Once we return to the Academy... And I find a place where you cannot hide behind your pathetic footwork... I will make you pay for today’s humiliation tenfold."
A twisted smile slowly stretched across his face.
"I will crush you so thoroughly that your precious fairy wife will see you for the worthless insect you truly are."
Unaware of Navarre’s petty, delusional plotting—and entirely uncaring even if he did know—Rhain was looking at Seris with a smile who was smiling back at him.
Fabian turned his attention back to the one hundred and thirty surviving candidates in the ring.
"However," Fabian announced, his voice suddenly turning stern. "Because of this unforeseen turn of events, the second trial did not proceed as intended. The results are highly irregular. A total of one hundred and thirty candidates survived."
The smiles on the candidates’ faces began to stiffen.
"I was only tasked to recruit thirty disciples from Mirravele City," Fabian declared ruthlessly. "Which means, there has to be a third trial."
The ecstatic mood in the arena shattered instantly.
The candidates were thrown straight back into the pit of despair.
A third trial?
They had barely survived the second one!
They didn’t know how brutal this final test would be.
Fabian casually waved his sleeve.
Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!
Over a hundred streaks of light shot out from his spatial ring, hovering to a dead stop exactly one foot in front of every remaining candidate.
They were glowing scrolls.
"These are Rare-Grade martial arts from the Stormveil Academy," Fabian spoke with a loud and clear voice. "You have exactly half an hour to comprehend as much of the technique as you can. When the time is up, you will execute it before me. I will select the top twenty-eight who display the highest proficiency. The rest of you will be eliminated."
The candidates stared at the hovering scrolls before them, their faces cycling through every shade of anxiety.
Half an hour?
Rare-Grade martial arts were the pinnacle of what most Outer Frontier cultivators could ever hope to encounter.
Under normal circumstances, even the most talented geniuses required weeks or months of dedicated study to grasp the opening fundamentals of a Rare-Grade technique.
And they had been given thirty minutes.
Among the nervous crowd, Rhain was completely relaxed.
For him, mastering even the most complex Rare-Grade martial art was a trivial affair — something he could accomplish in under a minute.
But as he looked around, he raised an eyebrow.
’Oh, I wasn’t given any scroll?’
Just as Rhain was about to ask, Fabian’s voice drifted over.
"You are no longer required to participate in any further trials. Your position has already been secured."
Fabian gestured warmly toward the high seats. "Come. You may join us on the platform."
Rhain gave a polite nod. "Thank you, Elder Fabian."
Under the envious gazes of the sweating, panicked candidates, Rhain leisurely walked up to the elevated platform.
He didn’t bother looking at the sour-faced Stormveil disciples, and walked directly over to Seris.
As Rhain took the empty seat beside her, Seris immediately reached out, her small, snow-white hands naturally wrapping around his arm.
Her pale purple eyes sparkled with unconcealed pride and boundless affection.
"Were you worried about me?" Rhain asked as he looked at her.
Seris shook her with a beautiful smile, "I knew how strong my husband is, who among them could even hurt you?"
Rhain let out a chuckle, ignoring the venomous glares of Calanthe and the other Stormveil disciples sitting nearby.
______________
The third trial commenced.
Some candidates closed their eyes immediately, attempting to internalize the theoretical framework through meditation.
Others began practicing rudimentary hand seals and footwork on the spot, trying to translate the written instructions into physical memory as quickly as possible.
When the final second passed, and Fabian called time, the candidates were lined up one by one to demonstrate.
The vast majority couldn’t even manifest the basic aura of the martial art, their essence collapsing instantly upon execution.
But the true elites of the Outer Frontier still managed to shine.
After half an hour of rapid evaluations,
Fabian made his final selections.
Twenty-eight disciples were chosen.
Among them were Elian, Liana, Sylvan, and the absolute best prodigies from the Solari, and Silvercrest Clan along a handful of minor factions.
Without exception, every single one of the twenty-eight selected candidates had managed to light the Origin Insight Tablet above the fifty-foot mark in the first trial.
They were truly the cream of the crop.
"The selections are final!" Fabian’s voice boomed across the Grand Mirravele Colosseum.
"I hereby announce that the recruitment trials of the Stormveil Academy have officially come to an end!"
