Chapter 31: The Holy Temple Incident (Part 1)


    Han Ming and Li Chengfeng entered the Holy Temple, only to realize they had come at a rather busy time. With the Imperial Military Academy and Mage Academy recruitment just around the corner, warriors from all over Wildlands had gathered here. Some were here to activate their battle aura marks, while others were registering for the academy entrance exams. Anyone planning to apply to the Imperial Military Academy had to first register at the Holy Temple for an initial screening. This was to ensure that only qualified candidates would proceed to the formal exams conducted by the academy’s representatives. Otherwise, the examiners would be overwhelmed by the sheer number of applicants.


    Li Chengfeng explained to Han Ming that applicants to both the Imperial Military Academy and the Mage Academy had to be at least eighteen years old. This was because both institutions required a solid foundation of strength and skill. Even if you were a prodigy, you still had to prove your worth. The upper age limit was twenty-five.


    The Holy Temple’s main hall was packed with applicants. To Han Ming’s surprise, there were no long lines. Instead, a temple worker handed out numbered tickets to the applicants, who then waited for their numbers to be called. It was surprisingly efficient, somewhat reminiscent of the ticketing system in human-world banks.


    Li Chengfeng had already registered and passed the initial screening, which was straightforward: as long as you had reached the level of a first-rank warrior, you were in. Now, he was just waiting for the academy examiners to arrive in two weeks.


    Han Ming, however, wasn’t here to apply to the Military Academy. He was here to activate his battle aura mark. Even so, he still had to wait his turn, as many others were also here for the same purpose.


    While waiting, Han Ming asked Li Chengfeng more about the warrior ranking system. He wasn’t entirely clear on what defined a warrior. From what he understood, warriors and mages were fundamentally different. Warriors needed a physique capable of cultivating battle aura, while mages required a body suited for magic. These two physiques were incompatible, as Catherine had once explained to him. If physical strength alone could activate battle aura, wouldn’t all mages be able to dual-cultivate as warriors?


    Li Chengfeng clarified that this wasn’t the case. For warriors, battle aura was essential. Human physical strength had its limits. No matter how strong or fast you were, you were still just human. Once a warrior reached the first rank, further progress through pure physical training became nearly impossible. To advance, one had to rely on cultivating battle aura.


    It was like lifting weights. If someone could lift a hundred pounds, through rigorous training, they might eventually lift a hundred and fifty or even two hundred pounds. Exceptional individuals might even reach three hundred pounds, but that was the ceiling. However, with battle aura, that same person could lift four hundred, five hundred, or even a thousand pounds. Thus, a warrior’s strength in the later stages depended entirely on their battle aura. Physical strength was important, but only in the early stages. Most people could only reach the first or second rank through physical training alone. Beyond that, battle aura was necessary. Someone like Han Ming, who had reached the level of a grand warrior through sheer physical strength, was practically unheard of.


    After Li Chengfeng’s explanation, Han Ming began to understand. It made sense. Mages, who typically had weaker physiques, would struggle to even reach the first rank as a warrior, let alone the second. This was why dual-cultivation was virtually nonexistent.


    As Han Ming and Li Chengfeng chatted in the hall, a small black bird flew in and landed on Li Chengfeng’s shoulder. Li Chengfeng removed a small note from the bird’s leg, read it, and then apologized to Han Ming. His family had visitors, and his father was summoning him home. Most of these guests were there to see Li Chengfeng, so he couldn’t refuse.


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    Han Ming understood and assured Li Chengfeng he could manage on his own. After all, he was just waiting in line, and nothing major was happening.


    Li Chengfeng agreed, knowing Han Ming’s strength meant no one would dare mess with him. If anything, Han Ming was more likely to be the one causing trouble.


    After Li Chengfeng left, Han Ming wandered around the Holy Temple alone.


    He noticed a large crowd gathered in one corner of the hall, creating quite a buzz. Curious, he went over to investigate. In the center of the crowd were several massive weapon racks, each holding a large sword. The swords grew progressively larger from left to right. A temple worker explained that these weapons were free for any warrior to take—provided they could lift the sword off the rack unaided. The weight of the sword you could lift determined which one you could claim.


    Even Han Ming, an outsider, could tell these weapons were exquisitely crafted and undoubtedly expensive. For many warriors, they were an irresistible temptation. Even if they couldn’t wield the swords effectively, they could sell them for a hefty sum.


    After the worker’s explanation, several people stepped forward to try their luck. The first challenger was a burly young man who went straight to the third rack. He gripped the hilt of the massive sword, planted his feet firmly, and strained with all his might. Despite his face turning red with effort, the sword didn’t budge. Amidst the crowd’s laughter, the young man retreated in embarrassment but stayed to watch.


    The second challenger, slightly more muscular than the first, was smarter. He didn’t aim for an impossibly heavy sword but went for the first rack, which held the smallest sword. He assumed a stable stance, gripped the hilt with both hands, and poured all his strength into lifting it.


    The crowd held its breath, watching intently. Some even clenched their fists as if they were the ones attempting the feat. Unfortunately, the young man only managed to lift the sword slightly before giving up. He stepped back to sympathetic sighs from the onlookers.


    Despite these failures, the challenge only grew more popular, attracting even more spectators. The warriors in the hall were naturally drawn to such tests of strength. Successfully lifting a sword in front of so many people was a clear display of power.


    More and more people joined the challenge. Finally, amidst cheers, an unassuming young man succeeded in lifting the sword from the first rack. The temple worker smiled and announced that the sword now belonged to him.


    The young man’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he walked away, the sword in hand, under the envious gazes of the crowd.


    With one success, others were eager to follow. However, the lightest sword was already taken, leaving only the heavier ones on the second rack. Many regretted not trying earlier, allowing the first young man to claim the easiest prize.


    Han Ming smiled faintly. He had no interest in this challenge. These swords, while undoubtedly heavy, were like toys compared to the massive axe in his storage bag. As for their value, he wasn’t concerned—he was no longer a penniless wanderer. There was no need to show off.


    Just as he was about to leave, a commotion broke out behind him.


    “Move aside! Out of the way! What’s the point of crowding here? Can any of you even lift these?”


    Four people pushed through the crowd. Two of them, a man and a woman, wore standard warrior attire. The woman had long golden hair, a beautiful oval face, and a tall, athletic build with lightly tanned skin and visible muscle tone. The man had short golden hair, a chiseled face, and a well-built physique, clearly the result of years of training. Both were strikingly attractive but carried an air of arrogance. The other two men appeared to be their servants, dressed in plain attire.


    The golden-haired man and woman, accompanied by their servants, made their way through the crowd. Their looks, attire, and demeanor set them apart from the others, marking them as members of a wealthy family.


    “Liss, which one do you like? I’ll get it for you,” the golden-haired man said with a charming smile, clearly trying to impress the beautiful woman.


    The woman, Liss, lifted her chin haughtily. “The second rack’s sword will do. It’s not too big for me.”


    The man, named Kano, nodded with a confident smile, his eyes gleaming with excitement.


    Han Ming, having lost interest, turned to leave.


    “Hey, you! The black-haired kid! Come here!” Kano called out from behind.


    Han Ming turned around, looking puzzled. He glanced around—there was no one else with black hair nearby. He pointed to himself, as if to ask, *Me?*


    Kano snapped impatiently, “Yes, you! Get over here!”