New Recruit Competition: Who's the Strongest, Step Forward, I'll Settle It With One Blade

New Recruit Competition.

The competition platform was set up on the training grounds east of the camp.

A simple wooden platform, surrounded by a ring of ropes—it couldn't have been more basic.

But there was no shortage of onlookers.

Veterans, officers, logistics personnel—everyone who could make it had come.

The beast tide had just ended, and everyone was looking for a bit of entertainment.

A row of VIP seats had been set up beneath the platform.

Three people from the provincial Martial Arts Association had arrived, wearing matching dark blue uniforms, seated in the center.

Representatives from several major families were also present, scattered left and right, occasionally whispering among themselves.

Lin Feng sat in the referee's seat, leaning back in his chair, utterly bored.

Zhang Qian sat beside him, holding a list in his hand, muttering under his breath.

"This year's New Recruit Competition has sixty-four participants, single-elimination format. Highest cultivation is Martial Artist third stage, lowest is Martial Disciple seventh stage."

"Mm."

"First prize is a D-Rank weapon, plus a fifty-thousand cash reward and priority choice of garrison zone."

"Mm."

"Could you at least glance at the list?"

"Not interested."

Lin Feng yawned.

He'd done the math last night.

The New Recruit Competition lasted a day, and he was stuck refereeing the whole time—that was a day wasted on grinding monsters.

How many Martial Path Points could he earn in a day?

At least ten thousand.

Ten thousand points—enough to level up several more stages.

And now he was sitting here watching a bunch of Martial Disciples and low-rank Martial Artists brawl.

A loss.

A total loss.

The matches had already started on the platform.

First round: two Martial Disciple eighth-stage recruits hacking at each other. One slashed, the other punched back. It took five minutes to decide a winner.

The watching veterans cracked sunflower seeds and cheered, occasionally throwing out taunts.

"Put some muscle into it! Cut him!"

"You call this a fight? My grandma fights better than this!"

Lin Feng leaned back in his chair, eyelids heavy with drowsiness.

Match after match, the more he watched, the more boring it got.

By afternoon, sixty-four had been whittled down to eight.

That was when things got a little more interesting.

Among the top eight was a guy named Zhao Tianci, Martial Artist third stage. Clearly from a noble family, his swordsmanship was exquisite—three straight wins without a scratch.

Then there was Liu Meng, Martial Artist second stage, built like an ox. His style was simple and brutal—one punch, one kill.

The other six were about the same level, ranging from Martial Artist first to second stage.

Zhang Qian leaned in. "Sergeant Major Lin, that Zhao Tianci was recommended by the provincial Martial Arts Association. Word is he's a direct descendant of the Zhao Family, pretty talented."

"Mm."

"Can't you say more than two words?"

"Tired."

Zhang Qian: "..."

The quarterfinals began.

In the semifinals, Zhao Tianci faced Liu Meng. After three minutes, Zhao Tianci's sword sliced through Liu Meng's defense, winning the match.

Clean and decisive—he really did have some skill.

The other semifinal ended too, with a Martial Artist second-stage named Chen Fei taking the win.

Finals.

Zhao Tianci versus Chen Fei.

The competition hadn't even started yet, but the Martial Arts Association representative in the VIP seats was already standing up to applaud.

"Tianci, that child, is truly the most outstanding recruit of this batch."

"Martial Artist, third stage, already glimpsing the threshold of swordsmanship. Given time, his future is boundless."

On the arena platform, Zhao Tianci stood with his sword, his demeanor composed.

He swept a glance toward Lin Feng on the referee's bench and frowned slightly.

This referee had been dozing off the entire time—wasn't that a bit disrespectful?

"Referee, we can begin." Zhao Tianci cupped his hands toward Lin Feng.

Lin Feng lifted his eyelids and looked at the platform.

Then he did something no one had anticipated.

He stood up.

Hefting Mountain Splitter, he jumped onto the arena.

The entire venue froze.

Zhang Qian nearly fell off his chair: "Sergeant Major Lin? What are you doing?"

Lin Feng ignored him, walked to the center of the arena, and swept his gaze over Zhao Tianci and Chen Fei.

"Which one of you is stronger?"

Zhao Tianci and Chen Fei exchanged bewildered glances.

"I'll ask one more time." Lin Feng took Mountain Splitter off his shoulder, the blade's tip touching the ground.

"In this New Recruit Competition, whoever thinks they're the strongest, step forward."

Dead silence fell over the venue.

Zhao Tianci frowned and took a step forward: "I'm the strongest among this year's recruits. Is there a problem?"

"No problem."

Lin Feng raised Mountain Splitter.

"Catch this."

Before Zhao Tianci could react, a blade light was already upon him.

Fast.

So fast that Zhao Tianci didn't even have time to lift his sword.

Clang!

The spine of Mountain Splitter slammed into Zhao Tianci's sword body.

The entire sword flew out of his hand and embedded itself into the wooden pillar at the edge of the arena, vibrating with a sharp hum for several moments.

Zhao Tianci staggered back five steps, his tiger's-mouth split open, blood streaming down.

One move.

Lin Feng sheathed his blade, the tip touching the ground again.

"Who else thinks they're the strongest?"

The entire training ground was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Chen Fei directly retreated three steps, raising both hands above his head: "I concede."

The Martial Arts Association representative in the VIP seats had a face ashen as iron.

Zhao Tianci clutched his split tiger's-mouth, gritting his teeth as he glared at Lin Feng: "You're the referee! How can a referee attack!"

Lin Feng tilted his head.

"I watched you two fight all day. It was way too slow. I'm helping speed things up."

He turned around, facing the entire venue.

"This year's New Recruit Competition champion—I'm claiming it."

He pointed at himself.

"Me."

The venue erupted.

"The referee's stealing the championship? Is that even allowed?"

"That's fifty thousand in prize money and a D-Rank weapon!"

"Is this guy out of his mind?"

On the VIP seats, a middle-aged man from the Martial Arts Association shot to his feet.

"Absurd! Absolutely absurd! The New Recruit Competition is an official military event, and you, a referee, have arbitrarily stepped onto the platform to interfere. I will file a complaint to the higher-ups!"

Li Zhenguo had appeared behind the VIP seats at some unknown moment.

He folded his arms across his chest, watching Lin Feng on the arena platform, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

"File a complaint? To who?"

"To you, Commander Li! Your man is running wild on the platform—are you going to do something about it or not?"

Li Zhenguo nodded.

"I'll handle it."

He turned his gaze to the arena.

"Lin Feng!"

"Here."

"The D-Rank weapon as the champion's prize—do you want it?"

Lin Feng thought for a moment. "Yeah. I'll sell it later for cash."

Li Zhenguo let out a hearty laugh. "Fine, give it to him."

The Martial Arts Association members' faces turned green with rage.

"Li Zhenguo! You—!"

"Me what?" Li Zhenguo's smile vanished as his single eye swept over them.

"This kid is also a new recruit, just promoted to Sergeant Major a few days ago. Three days ago, he held the front line of a beast tide alone, killing three C-Rank Exotic Beasts in a row. All those new recruits from your Martial Arts Association tied together—could they even withstand one of his strikes?"

The entire venue fell silent for three seconds.

Then, from the veteran section, someone started a shout.

"Sergeant Major Lin is a beast!"

"A beast!!!"

Hundreds of veterans roared in unison, the sound wave nearly flipping the arena platform.

Zhao Tianci stood on the platform, gripping his bleeding tiger's mouth, his face twisted with an indescribable complexity.

Martial Artist, third stage.

His pride—Martial Artist, third stage.

Before this man, he couldn't even last a single round.

"What realm are you, exactly?" he asked instinctively.

Lin Feng jumped off the platform without looking back.

"Martial Master."

The two words drifted over.

Zhao Tianci's hand dropped.