Shuang Ling Awakens!

Shuang Ling, awaken! Kalan watched the master and disciple on the light screen, the corners of his mouth curling upward involuntarily.

At least judging by their current performance, the potential of these two was quite considerable.

Especially the young one; he possessed Eighth-Rank cultivation and was younger than the other examinees, yet his combat power and battle instincts were in no way inferior to those veteran Ninth-Rank powerhouses.

Youth meant having ample time to sprint toward the Planetary Rank, or even higher realms.

Kalan sometimes couldn't help but wonder how wonderful it would be if he could truly produce a Trans-Limit Rank genius from the batch he was responsible for.

Although it was too early to be certain, at the very least, youth was an asset.

As for White Dragon, his situation was far more dismal.

After several battles, his body was covered in scars, and he had narrowly escaped death on more than one occasion.

Yet, strangely, every time he found a glimmer of survival in a desperate situation; either the demonic beasts would inexplicably let him go, the terrain would collapse just in time to clear a path for him, or he would dodge a fatal blow without even knowing how he did it.

Dragging along, half-dead, he simply refused to die.

Kalan watched for a long time, unable to decide whether to call it good luck or a stubborn life.

Then there was Yu Qingmeng.

If one were to speak of pure strength, Yu Qingmeng couldn't catch up to Zhao Wuji even with a whip.

She was only Eighth-Rank, her combat experience was not particularly rich, and among this group of examinees, she could only be considered mid-tier.

But the problem was, she possessed an unparalleled talent: she could actually communicate with demonic beasts.

No, not communicate—the