First Impressions of Icefront City

Twenty days later, Silves Kingdom, Icefront City.

As Fang Ling looked at the bustling metropolis before him, with merchant caravans streaming endlessly through the gates, his weary heart finally came alive again.

This was the first time he had traveled such a long distance.

With only one ring, his strength was still weak, and his left leg was impaired. Naturally, he could not simply walk here at a leisurely pace.

His money was precious. Rather than hire a carriage, he paid a little to travel alongside merchant caravans.

His status as a one-ring Battle Spirit Master, along with the intimidation of a Hundred Year Spirit Ring, had brought him considerable convenience.

Along the way, he had casually killed two ordinary mountain bandits without Innate Soul Power.

The Progress Bar had gained a tiny, mosquito-leg-sized increase.

It was nothing noticeable. The only benefit was that it had spared him the travel expenses for this stretch of the journey.

After changing caravans twice, and enduring a grueling total of twenty days, he had crossed the entirety of Balak Kingdom and finally arrived here.

Winter break was not very long, so even though he had set off a month early, time was still somewhat tight.

After paying the entry fee, Fang Ling headed into the city.

He had not gone far before witnessing what made this place different.

Ordinary people were fighting in the street, while the surrounding crowd continuously cheered them on.

Not only did the soldiers stationed in the city ignore them, they had even mixed into the crowd and joined in the cheering?

Fang Ling stared at the bizarrely harmonious scene in amazement. It truly deserved its reputation for fierce local customs.

As far as he knew, there was only one place where no one would interfere with street fights—

Slaughter City.

That place was even more lawless. Not only could people fight, they could kill freely and even copulate in the streets.

The two people here had not used weapons, so there were probably legal restrictions. It could not compare to that place.

Even so, it had already filled him with anticipation.

A place with fierce local customs, an academy of spirit masters skilled in combat—the two were practically a perfect match.

He casually found a busy restaurant and began ordering dishes.

After gnawing on dry rations and drinking water every day in the wilderness, with occasional jerky, he was nearly sick of it.

He urgently needed some hot food to cleanse his palate.

"Hey, waiter, don't leave!"

Seeing the waiter about to leave after serving the dishes, Fang Ling stopped him and placed a Silver Soul Coin on the table.

The waiter turned back in confusion. Upon seeing the Silver Soul Coin, he swiftly sat down beside Fang Ling, putting on a perfect change of expression.

"You've come to the right person."

With all his years of experience as a waiter, a lone child who spent generously had to be a Lord Soul Master.

At this time of year, he was certain that Fang Ling had come for War King Academy.

"Lord Soul Master, whatever you want to ask, you can ask me."

Fang Ling did not ask how he had recognized his identity.

Instead, he asked the question he cared about most. "Where is War King Intermediate Spirit Master Academy?"

Just as expected, he had guessed right.

The waiter pointed outside. "Follow the main road outside the door straight ahead. Turn left at the second intersection. When you see a long queue, that's the place."

"On my way here, I saw people fighting. Why did the city guards...?"

The more Fang Ling thought about it, the more unbelievable it seemed.

If this had been Notting City, such behavior would have gotten them thrown in prison long ago.

"You mean, why don't they do anything about it?"

The waiter sighed. "That's what's so fierce about the local customs of Icefront City."

"When I first came here, I was just like you. Later, I learned that they were merely settling disputes."

"As long as they don't use weapons, cause deaths, or attack vital areas, they're allowed to do as they please."

"I see." Fang Ling fell into thought.

The strong devoured everything—very much in keeping with the style of a fantasy world.

"I heard that War King Academy's principal is a Soul Emperor?"

"I don't know much about other matters concerning spirit masters, but I really do know about this."

The waiter said proudly, "He is a Soul Emperor, and a very powerful one at that."

"He once achieved the remarkable feat of defeating three opponents of the same rank without taking a single injury!"

Fang Ling was secretly delighted and grew even more expectant.

A Soul Emperor was good.

Anyone capable of defeating three opponents surely had something exceptional about them.

Even an incredibly powerful Martial Soul needed superb combat skills to bring out its true strength.

He had come to the right place!

After wolfing down his meal, Fang Ling made a brief adjustment and quickened his pace toward the academy the waiter had pointed out.

He followed the road straight ahead and turned left at the second intersection.

The first thing that came into view was a towering trapezoidal monument of dark bluish-black stone.

It stood over six meters tall, made of extraordinary material, with eight large red characters carved from top to bottom: "War King Intermediate Spirit Master Academy."

Its school emblem depicted a fist crossing a sword, exuding martial prowess.

Beside the monument stood the academy gates, forged from refined iron and exceptionally heavy.

They rested on rollers and stood wide open.

Two long tables had been placed at the entrance, with two young Spirit Masters seated behind them.

They were using crystal balls to test Soul Power and collect recommendation letters and the like.

Judging by how well-funded this place was, it was definitely not some shabby academy like Shrek.

A long line had formed now. Fang Ling looked around and saw that most of them were youths around his age.

Some were accompanied by their parents.

The line stretched all the way to the academy gates.

Looking along it from afar, there were no fewer than a hundred people.

More young Spirit Masters like him were still arriving one after another.

How long would he have to wait in this line?

His fingertips brushed across his cheek as Fang Ling thought for a moment, recalling the certificate issued to him by the Spirit Hall Angel Legion Demon Hunt Camp.

It said that presenting it when enrolling in an intermediate Spirit Master academy would have a remarkable effect.

And since this academy specialized in combat, someone like him, who could kill Spirit Masters above his rank, should qualify to cut in line, right?

Fang Ling stepped out of the queue and walked directly toward the front under everyone's watchful eyes.

Seeing this unruly child, the male student maintaining order darkened his expression and stopped him. "Even geniuses don't get special privileges. No cutting in line. Go back and queue up!"

"Hello, big brother. I'd like to ask the academy's admissions teachers what use this has."

Fang Ling smiled faintly and took out the pale golden certificate he had kept in excellent condition.

"No matter what you take out..." The male student gave it a glance and impatiently tried to brush him aside.

After thinking for a moment, he sensed something was wrong.

"Level six, killed someone above his rank? Wait..."

He grabbed Fang Ling's arm and looked again. "Spirit Hall Angel Legion Demon Hunt Camp?"

The paper and seal both reflected a distinctive, eye-catching sheen beneath the sunlight, making them seem quite extraordinary.

Though he did not recognize it, he could not be certain either.

"Come with me."

After telling his companion to handle the line for a while, he directly led Fang Ling to the teacher in charge of admissions.

Under the resentful yet silent gazes of the crowd, he forcefully led Fang Ling through to a beautiful, gentle female teacher.

"Teacher Shu, I've never seen this before. Please take a look."

At the male student's prompting, Fang Ling handed over the pale golden certificate.

Teacher Shu smiled gently as she accepted it and examined it carefully.

After a moment, surprise appeared on her face, along with a trace of confusion in her eyes.

She did not recognize it either.

She immediately took it to ask another young male teacher beside her, who looked exceptionally heroic.

The male teacher accepted the certificate, and his eyes lit up.

"Level six at seven years old, a Scythe Martial Soul, and he can even kill Fallen Spirit Masters above his rank. A genius!"

He had never heard of this so-called Angel Legion Demon Hunt Camp, but it was probably real.

Even if it was fake, it would become clear during the Enrollment Examination.

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