Liens was also very happy.

Since that person could pass the assessment, he should have no problems either.

Moreover, judging by the burn marks on that person, the monster inside was indeed very likely a Flamelion.

This indicated that his guess was not wrong.

He just wondered if it would be the same monster when it was his turn?

Seeing the first person to pass the assessment descend the stairs from the log-built wall, someone immediately wanted to go forward and ask him what had happened inside.

Several people broke away from the queue, preparing to surround the "first person."

However, the instructor stopped this behavior.

"Return to your previous positions, and stand straight!" the instructor reprimanded them.

Upon hearing this, those few immediately scurried back to their original positions, and the others, seeing this situation, also stopped their thoughts of going forward to inquire.

Clearly, all these actions indicated that the instructor did not want them to obtain information about the monsters in advance.

Was it to test their on-the-spot reaction ability? Or simply to increase the difficulty of the assessment?

"Drink this, then wait over there."

The instructor took out a potion from somewhere and handed it to the "first person," then pointed to a spot on the plaza, signaling him to wait there for the final result.

Liens, standing at the front, was quite sharp-eyed, seeing the emerald green color of the potion.

Having some knowledge of potionology, he immediately recognized it as a Healing Potion.

And it wasn't the diluted version they had drunk before, but a normal Healing Potion, and from its appearance, it seemed to be of relatively good quality.

"Quite generous," Liens muttered inwardly.

It's a very realistic situation: only when you are useful to others will they, in turn, provide you with resources.

"Yes."

The "first person" immediately responded loudly.

He took the potion given by the instructor, as if receiving a trophy of honor, then saluted the instructor before drinking the potion.

That salute was the same one the guards usually showed the instructor—a hand salute.

It was clear that the "first person" at this moment had completely considered himself a member of the Training Camp.

Many people hate oppression, but when they themselves can become oppressors, their mindset naturally gravitates towards that.

Driven by self-interest and position, those who benefit rarely find anything wrong with oppressing others.

Because in their view, their actions are merely making their lives better.

Everyone has the right to pursue a better life; they have simply chosen a path that, for them, is more "beautiful."

Under the effect of the Healing Potion, the "first person's" injuries began to recover rapidly; the burns on various parts of his body receded at a visible speed, and the wounds gradually closed, slowly returning to normal skin.

Even old scars he had from previous injuries seemed to show signs of healing.

With the consumption of the Healing Potion, the "first person" seemed to regain vitality in the eyes of others.

His entire being, his spirit, had improved significantly.

If it weren't for the residual blood on him, it would be hard to believe he had just gone through a perilous battle.

"Second one, next."

Seeing the "first person" walk directly to the designated spot after drinking the potion, the instructor nodded in satisfaction, then immediately called out to the queue where Liens and the others were lined up.

Upon hearing this, the figure in front of Liens did not hesitate, quickly ascending the stairs to the instructor's side.

With the successful precedent of the first person, those who followed were very confident.

In their view, the "graduation assessment" was no longer a path to death, but a star-studded road to a beautiful future.

Liens looked up at the person in front of him picking up a standard longsword, then disappearing onto the wall.

He wondered how he got down to the "arena."

Similar to the "first person's" experience, after that person "disappeared" from the wall, the sound of combat did not immediately appear in the "arena."

Instead, the roar of a "monster" would only be heard after some time.

Liens guessed that the time in between was for the preparations needed by the Training Camp.

"Owoooo—wooo—"

When the monster's roar sounded, the situation inside the wall began to intensify.

Human roars, beastly growls, painful screams, angry curses, and finally… mournful wails.

Those outside did not know what was happening inside, but from the sounds emanating, everyone roughly estimated that the person inside was probably not doing well.

When the "first person" came out, he hadn't let out such a miserable scream.

Everyone had endured various floggings and tortures; if it were just minor injuries, they could generally tough it out without screaming.

And they certainly wouldn't shout meaningless curses during combat.

Because this would disrupt the breathing rhythm of the fight, reduce one's explosiveness, and control over muscles.

Unless the battle required it, Liens and the others would not shout such meaningless trash talk.

The sounds inside the wall disappeared; had the battle ended?

Just as those outside were waiting anxiously for the latest result, the instructor, holding a severely injured person with a severed arm in one hand, walked down the stairs of the wall and approached Liens and the others.

"He's still alive... Did he also pass the assessment?"

The others outside thought, but things were clearly not as good as they imagined.

Because the instructor did not give the injured person a potion, but instead let him hold his severed left arm, wailing in pain.

The unstoppable blood flowed all over the ground, drawing a crimson path as the instructor walked.

"Squish, squish..."

Everyone silently watched the instructor approach; the sound of his feet treading on blood was like an alarm bell hanging in their hearts, drowning out the clearly louder screams.

The instructor slowly walked in front of them and directly threw the injured person he was holding onto the ground.

Seeing the instructor's action, everyone's gaze also turned to the miserable figure lying on the ground. MyVirtualLibraryEmpire(*)hoststheoriginal.

"The reason I brought him over is just to give you all a reminder—the Glenbagen Family doesn't need trash."

"When he becomes a cripple, even if he kills the monster, it doesn't count as passing the assessment."

"I hope you remember his lesson and avoid becoming the next him."

"Next one."

The instructor said with a calm expression, as if announcing a very ordinary matter.

After speaking, he drew his longsword, ended the life of the figure on the ground, then turned and left, leaving the bewildered crowd looking complexly at the figure in the pool of blood.

"Only his left arm was severed; he could be called disabled, but not 'trash.'"

"That person, even with a severed arm, still killed the monster, which is enough to prove his ability."

"Unfortunately... those people look down on him."

"Alas, one less sparring partner."

Liens silently felt regret for the deceased "front-liner."

Although his mind was filled with thoughts, he had no time to stop his movements.

Upon hearing the instructor say "Next one," Liens immediately followed the instructor's footsteps, ascending the stairs of the "fork in destiny" with him.