Martial Artist Combat Assessment

After explaining the Five Hearts Towards Heaven Genetic Energy cultivation method to the others and answering a few questions from the remaining two, the Quasi-Martial Artist Assessment came to an end.

"Once you get home, try cultivating as soon as you can. If you succeed, your physical fitness will improve significantly, and you'll have a much better chance of passing next month's Martial Artist Combat Assessment!"

The others, including Feng Qingmo, all nodded before going their separate ways.

That evening, Zuo Huifen went out of her way to prepare a lavish meal to celebrate Feng Qingmo passing the Quasi-Martial Artist Assessment.

"The curator called me over today." Feng Jiansong picked up a piece of fried rib and chewed it noisily, speaking with his mouth full. "A few days ago, he sent Mo'er's information to the people at Huashan. Since Mo'er passed the Quasi-Martial Artist Assessment today, their reply came in too..."

"Oh? What did they say?" Zuo Huifen asked nervously. When she saw Feng Jiansong still chewing on his rib, she shot him an exasperated look. "Can't you finish talking before you eat?"

Feng Jiansong hurriedly chewed a few more times, swallowed the meat and bone, then took a sip of soup before speaking slowly. "The curator said Huashan has confirmed they'll be specially recruiting Mo'er into the Huashan Training Camp. But they won't send anyone to pick him up until after the Martial Artist Combat Assessment."

He explained to Feng Qingmo, "You have to pass the Martial Artist Combat Assessment before you can get a Martial Artist account. You can have someone else buy weapons and a Combat Suit for you, but manuals can only be purchased through your own account. That's why I could only teach you Five Hearts Towards Heaven, along with some basic movement and sword techniques. I couldn't teach you anything else..."

Feng Qingmo nodded to show he understood.

"Since you're joining the military ahead of time, you'll get twenty million in start-up funds and a detached villa." Feng Jiansong looked at Feng Qingmo. "The curator asked whether you want the villa."

"What would I need a detached villa for?" Feng Qingmo shook his head. "This one is big enough for the three of us, and we can't rent it out anyway. Besides, after I pass the combat assessment, I'll be going to Huashan..."

"I thought so too." Feng Jiansong nodded. "The curator said that if you don't want the villa, they can increase the start-up funds to fifty million. On top of that, you'll get another fifty million in free credits for purchasing manuals..."

"Getting the money in cash would be even better," Feng Qingmo said with a smile.

"The Huashan Training Camp..." Zuo Huifen said, excitement in her voice. "It may not be on the same level as the Limit Dojo's Elite Training Camp, but it's still the best training camp in our country. I hear most of its graduates become War Gods, and even the least accomplished become Advanced War Generals..."

"The Huashan Training Camp has two tracks. Those who enter as War Generals have to graduate after three years, while those who enter as Warriors can stay for five. Of course, anyone who becomes a War God can apply to graduate at any time!"

He looked at Feng Qingmo, a deeply hidden trace of worry in his eyes. "Mo'er, you'll be able to stay at the Training Camp for five years at most. You should be safe while you're there, but after you graduate, you'll have to accept a military assignment. You might be sent to a military camp, put on a squad to hunt monsters, or sent out on a special mission..."

Zuo Huifen fell silent, a trace of worry appearing on her face as well.

"Dad, Mom," Feng Qingmo said earnestly, lifting his head, "we were born in this era. Since I've become a Martial Artist and enjoy privileges ordinary people don't, I have to shoulder the responsibilities that come with them. Isn't that what you've always taught me?"

"Exactly!" Feng Jiansong patted his shoulder hard. "That's the kind of resolve my son should have!"

Zuo Huifen sighed softly. "Mo'er, you're right, but in my heart, you'll always be the most important thing. You have to promise me that if you ever find yourself in a life-or-death situation, you won't worry about orders or responsibilities. Put your own safety first! As long as you're alive, you still have everything!"

Warmth filled Feng Qingmo's heart. He reached out and took her hand. "Mom, I promise. I'll always put my safety first!"

Seeing that the mood had grown heavy, he changed the subject. "Dad, where's the Huashan Training Camp? It isn't really on Mount Hua, is it?"

"Of course not," Feng Jiansong said with a laugh. "Huashan's headquarters are in Kyoto Base City, and the Training Camp is there too. It's called Huashan only because General Jia grew up at the foot of Mount Hua..."

Time passed peacefully, and before they knew it, February 1 had arrived.

Early that morning, Feng Qingmo went to the Military Dojo and met up with the other trainees who had passed the Quasi-Martial Artist Assessment over the previous few months. Together, they took a train to the Northern Military Region outside the Base City.

Most of the people on the train were young adults in their twenties. There were a few in their thirties, but not many.

The other passengers in the same carriage couldn't help glancing at Feng Qingmo, who was wearing sunglasses. This wasn't the pre-Great Nirvana era; no one wore sunglasses just to look cool anymore.

Fortunately, no fool came over to mock him.

More than a thousand people in all got off the train when it reached the edge of the military camp.

Most of these Quasi-Martial Artists had never even left the city. They looked at the unfamiliar scenery, listened to monsters howling in the distance, and started chattering excitedly in a noisy crowd.

"Quiet down! Get into formation on your own, and don't shove!"

A deep voice rang out, seeming to boom right beside them. It was obviously a high-level Martial Artist speaking, and the Quasi-Martial Artists immediately lowered their voices.

They had barely rested before the equipment was handed out. Feng Qingmo requested a standard Wind Shadow Sword and a Combat Suit. He had never trained with a shield, so he didn't ask for one.

Dressed in his Combat Suit and holding the sword against his chest, Feng Qingmo waited quietly. Unlike the other Quasi-Martial Artists, who were excited, nervous, and restless, he was confident he would pass the combat assessment. His calm presence stood out sharply from those around him.

It was soon after six o'clock. Following a briefing, the gates to the assessment grounds—Monster Town—opened. More than a thousand Quasi-Martial Artists poured inside, like a handful of sand scattered across water, disappearing in moments. Only the monsters' roars continued to echo.

His Spiritual Force spread outward. After more than a month of hard practice, it had grown far stronger than when he first awakened it. He could now fully control three throwing knives at once.

"Snort... snort..."

The distinctive sound of a pig-like monster came from around the corner. An H-class Unicorn Boar poked its head out. It spotted a human wearing sunglasses a dozen meters away and let out two excited grunts. It pawed at the ground with its forelegs, lowered its head, and charged, its horn pointed forward.

Though his eyes couldn't see clearly, the Unicorn Boar's every move was reflected in his Sea of Consciousness under the cover of his Spiritual Force. Feeling the monster's bloodthirsty gaze, Feng Qingmo took a deep breath and drew his sword.

Even the lowest-grade monsters were incredibly fast. The dozen meters between them vanished in an instant. Just as the Unicorn Boar was about to hit Feng Qingmo, he sidestepped twice to avoid its horn. Then he flicked his sword upward. With tremendous force behind it, the blade cut through the boar's neck, and its head fell to the ground. Its body kept sliding more than ten meters from sheer momentum.

Blood splattered across the ground.

"That's a lot of blood!" He couldn't see it, but his Spiritual Force made everything feel even more vivid. The moment the head fell, blood gushed from the neck several meters into the air. The gruesome scene stirred an indescribable feeling in Feng Qingmo, who hadn't even killed a chicken in his previous life.

"Not bad. At least I don't feel like throwing up..." Feng Qingmo made a wry comment about himself. "I'll have to get used to this as soon as possible. If I can't even handle something this minor, I won't get far in this world..."

He stepped forward, cut off the Unicorn Boar's left ear, and continued on.