CLEAVER OF SIN

"Now. You will be sent into a forest to gather points. There are two distinct ways to gain these points. The first way is by killing the residents of the forest. Of course, the stronger the being you kill, the higher the points you will earn, this is basic common sense. The second way is by defeating other candidates. I said defeating, not killing," the old man emphasized, stressing the second method as though former candidates in previous years had ignored this rule and committed murder instead.

"There have been candidates in the past who killed others for the sake of points because they misunderstood, or perhaps pretended to misunderstand. Their punishment for such psychological delusions was death by my own hands. I will kill you all the same if any of you dare repeat such actions after my warning. Whether you are a Prince or a Princess of the Empire, I do not care," the old man's tone grew frigid, each word dripping with deadly venom.

At those words, numerous eyes immediately turned toward Vaelra and Vaelric, the twin royals of the Empire, as though the old man had singled them out.

Some of the gathered students looked on in disbelief. They could not comprehend how anyone could threaten the Prince and Princess so openly, much less in front of an entire crowd.

It felt almost sacrilegious to them.

But, the twins themselves remained utterly calm. Their expressions did not flicker, their postures did not shift. They neither blinked nor frowned. It was as if the words had not been directed toward them at all.

They understood perfectly well, the old man's warning was not personal, but a reminder that titles, bloodlines, and noble statuses would not save anyone here. After all, status was worthless without power.

Of course, they possessed power of their own, but much of their authority came indirectly, through their father, the Emperor. It was a borrowed shield, and they both knew it.

"Now, returning to the second way of gaining points," the old man continued, his voice steady. "After defeating an opponent, you will obtain half of the points that person had accumulated up to that moment. You do not need to force the candidate to transfer points to you, the system will automatically grant them to you upon your victory. You may inflict whatever damage or critical injury you desire, so long as you do not kill them. Those of you harboring grudges may go all out; just ensure your opponent remains alive. We can heal them back to peak condition afterward." A smirk curved his lips as he added the last statement, making it clear that the Academy had no qualms about brutal combat, so long as no one died.

At the center of the hall, Asher stood silently, his face composed and unreadable. But within, his thoughts churned like restless waters. To him, the old man appeared playful, but beneath that playfulness was a cunning edge.

He had deliberately chosen the phrase "residents of the forest" instead of the usual "monsters" or "beasts" that most people used. The distinction gnawed at Asher, sparking an uncomfortable suspicion.

'Am I overthinking like William?' he wondered to himself, almost scoffing at his own line of thought.

Glancing around, he tried to see if others were troubled by the same choice of words. But no, everyone else appeared focused solely on the rules being explained. Even William, who had earned a reputation as the king of overthinking, showed no sign of overthinking this time.

'Well… not that it makes any difference,' Asher concluded silently. 'If my guess turns out to be true, there is nothing I can prepare in advance. In the end, it will be the same, I'll cut through it all with Virelass by my side.'

"When you arrive at the forest, all you need to do is look upward. Above the canopy, you will see a scoreboard floating in the sky. It will display your score as well as the current leader's score and the number of points they have," the old man explained further, his voice reverberating throughout the hall.

"Various instructors will also be scattered throughout the forest. Their task is to observe, and if necessary, intervene to save you from certain death. However, understand this clearly: once you are saved, your exam ends immediately. On top of that, you will lose twenty percent of your accumulated points. So, if you encounter something you believe you cannot defeat, run. Do not gamble with your life recklessly," the old man spoke calmly, then paused deliberately, as though allowing the weight of his words to settle in their minds before continuing.

"Now, the Star Academy only accepts the top two hundred candidates. Not a single more. The final ranking will be determined by a combination of your oral exam and this combat trial. Therefore, if you feel you performed poorly in the previous tests, this is your chance. Gather as many points as you can, and prove your worth," the old man concluded solemnly.

"Any questions?" he asked, his piercing gaze sweeping across the sea of candidates.

From the crowd, a girl cautiously raised her hand. The old man's gaze flicked to her, and he gave a simple nod, granting her permission to speak.

"What classes of monsters and beasts will we be fighting?" she asked in a steady voice.

"Ah, now that," the old man replied with a faint smile, "is a surprise. You will find out once you arrive. But whether you know beforehand or not changes nothing. If you are about to die, the instructors will still save you, regardless of what enemy you face."

"Any other questions?" he asked, his gaze once again sweeping over the room.

This time, a boy stepped forward, a noble judging by his bearing and finely embroidered robes.

"Is there a way to track a particular individual during the exam? If so, how?" the boy inquired.

At his question, murmurs rippled through the crowd. It dawned on everyone immediately, if such a system existed, the candidate ranked highest would inevitably become the prime target of every ambitious challenger.

The old man chuckled softly. "Although that would certainly make things entertaining, young noble, the answer is no. There will be no way to track any specific person. Instead, let fate decide. Encounters born of chance are far more amusing to watch." His grin widened as he finished, clearly enjoying the mix of relief and unease spreading through the crowd.

Seeing that no further questions remained, the old man snapped his fingers. Instantly, numerous racks shimmered into existence, each stacked with neatly arranged weapons of varying kinds.

"These have been provided by the Academy for those of you without proper equipment. The exam would hardly be fair if nobles wielded finely crafted blades while commoners clutched rusted scraps. Therefore, browse carefully and choose one weapon. You may only take one, but whether you pass the exam or not, the weapon will remain yours permanently. Consider it a gift from the Star Academy," the old man announced.

Immediately, the hall erupted into movement as candidates rushed toward the racks. Even those who already possessed good weapons did not hesitate, after all, who would refuse another, especially when the Academy's craftsmanship might surpass their own?

Minutes slipped by as the students examined the racks, carefully selecting their weapons. Eventually, one by one, they returned to the center of the hall, each armed with a new blade, spear, or staff gleaming in their hands.

"Now," the old man spoke once more, his voice final and absolute, "this exam will last for five hours. That is the time you have. Use it well. Good luck."

The ever-present white light appeared immediately, enveloping them all in its brilliance. In the blink of an eye, every single candidate vanished from the hall.