Chapter 114: The Sword Pavilion
Chapter 114: The Sword Pavilion
The third trial eventually reached its conclusion. The vast majority of the first-year disciples remained stuck at the spiritual waterfall or sat completely confused in front of the jade monolith.
The scarred instructor stepped back into the center of the courtyard and raised his wooden staff to gather everyone’s attention.
"The initial evaluations are officially over," the instructor announced, sweeping his gaze across the struggling teenagers. "Those who failed to pass the waterfall or comprehend the monolith will remain here."
He then turned and pointed toward the small group of students who had successfully completed the challenges.
"The successful disciples will now separate into your designated training grounds," he continued. "You will be assigned to specific pavilions based entirely on your demonstrated weapon skills and martial expertise. Follow the guides to your new quarters."
Solomon hoisted Eden’s Penance onto his shoulder and marched along the winding mountain path. The sect worker guided the small group of surviving disciples through a grand stone archway.
Towering statues of ancient cultivators holding giant stone blades flanked the entrance. The Sword Pavilion itself resembled a fortress carved directly into the mountain peak. Polished steel weapons decorated the walls and reflected the vibrant sunlight across the sprawling courtyards.
Solomon glanced around at the other successful students making the trek.
Arthur Vance continuously pushed his thick glasses up the bridge of his nose while catching his breath from the long climb. The telekinetic boy looked entirely out of place among the physically imposing martial artists.
Maximus Thunderstrike marched near the front of the pack, keeping a tight grip on his shield while actively avoiding any eye contact with Solomon.
Meanwhile, the Third Princess of the Bririth Kingdom walked with perfection. Her flowing white hair and piercing red eyes attracted the attention of several older sect disciples observing from the upper balconies.
[LazyCat: the princess is actually here too!]
[GamerGuy: Arthur looks like he is going to pass out.]
[BloodKnight: A gathering of future swordmasters. This pavilion will forge them well.]
[User12: Maximus is totally hiding from Solo Man.]
The sect guide finally stopped in the center of a wide stone plaza and turned around to face the tired group of first-years.
"You all successfully passed the initial trials." The guide pointed a finger toward a massive wooden building emitting the rich smell of roasted meat. "The instructors require a few hours to review your evaluation scores and finalize your specific training groups. You can proceed directly to the Iron Hearth Dining Hall on the right side of the plaza."
The man lowered his arm and scanned the crowd of teenagers. "You should eat and rest your bodies. The pavilion master and your assigned instructors will arrive after you finish your meals. Everyone will formally introduce themselves at that assembly, and your official lessons will commence immediately afterward."
Solomon tightened his grip on his pristine steel hilt. Suddenly, his stomach grumbled loudly at the mention of roasted meat. Solomon hadn’t eaten good food ever since he entered the academy.
He had spent a week in the Eden Kingdom while surviving on a limited amount of potions and pills, and fifteen years of time fighting in the labyrinth without a proper meal, and the artificial void training had only provided imaginary sustenance.
A real, physical meal sounded like a blessing.
"We finally get to eat." Solomon tapped the floating bronze owl with his knuckle. "I am going to clear out their entire kitchen."
[GoonLord: DO NOT EAT LIKE A PEASANT IN FRONT OF HER HIGHNESS!]
[Skeptic: bro is about to bankrupt the sect’s food budget.]
[OldTimer: get some protein for those muscles.]
The crowd of students immediately scattered toward the dining hall. Solomon joined the rush, eager to find a comfortable seat and completely fill his plate before the rigorous lectures actually began.
Solomon placed a wooden tray loaded with roasted meat and steamed vegetables onto a long oak table.
He immediately grabbed a piece of meat and took a massive bite. The Iron Hearth Dining Hall echoed with the loud chatter of the surviving first-year students.
They had quickly formed small cliques and study groups, filling the wooden benches to exchange their initial experiences and gossip about the instructors.
On the other side, a few individuals completely separated themselves from the noisy crowds. Maximus Thunderstrike sat entirely alone in a dark corner of the hall. He aggressively stabbed a roasted root vegetable with his wooden chopsticks while keeping his face turned toward the floor.
On the opposite side of the dining area, the Third Princess of the Bririth Kingdom occupied an empty table. She stared blankly at her pristine bowl of white rice. Her hands remained completely still, completely refusing to touch the provided food.
Arthur Vance adjusted his thick frames and approached Solomon’s table. The telekinetic boy dropped his tray opposite the silver-haired student and let out an exhausted breath.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" Arthur asked, pushing a bowl of soup toward the center.
Solomon chewed his food and gestured for the boy to make himself comfortable.
"You caused quite a commotion out there," Arthur noted, picking up his chopsticks. "The instructors are probably entirely focused on your development now."
"I just wanted to complete the evaluation," Solomon replied, swallowing his meal. "There is absolutely no reason to hold anything back during a practical exam."
[LazyCat: Arthur surviving the stairs is the real achievement.]
[Last_Fables: look at Maximus coping in the corner lol.]
[User12: why is the princess fasting?]
[BloodKnight: A warrior must properly fuel their body after intense training.]
’There are others, and then there is this guy, always staying on the topic. I like him. He is probably an old man by the way he is writing.’ Solomon swallowed while reading the comments. ’I don’t see GoonLord. Did he go to goon somewhere?’
Solomon’s guess was on point.
GoonLord had switched to the princess’ stream so he could watch her from a better angle.
"Don’t you guys have to take a break and eat?" Solomon asked the chat.
[Xander Man: I wanted to watch something while I ate so I opened your stream.]
The sect guides eventually entered the dining hall and corralled the tired students toward the designated sleeping quarters. The disciples separated into two distinct wings based entirely on gender.
The boys filed into a massive stone chamber filled with rows of basic wooden cots.
The exhausted first-years collapsed onto the thin mattresses immediately. Snores quickly echoed across the dormitory.
Solomon lay on his cot and stared directly at the wooden ceiling. He closed his eyes and attempted to force his brain to shut down, but sleep completely eluded him. His physical body craved rest, yet his mind raced with the endless muscle memory of the imperial sword arts.
He tossed and turned for thirty minutes.
Nonetheless, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He grabbed the paladin’s sword and strapped the massive weapon securely to his back. Leaving the sleeping novices behind, he stepped quietly out of the dormitory and entered the cool mountain night.
He navigated the stone-paved corridors of the Sword Pavilion. Torches cast bright light along the ancient walls, illuminating long rows of polished steel weapon racks. He turned a corner and followed a winding path upward.
Suddenly, the sharp clack of colliding wooden blades reached his ears. He followed the noise, completely ignoring a large warning sign carved in red characters posted near a stone archway.
Solomon stepped through the entrance and found himself standing inside a massive, illuminated courtyard. Older students wearing customized blue robes executed complex maneuvers across multiple dirt rings.
He observed their advanced footwork and intricate sword formations. He quickly realized he had wandered directly into the second-year training ground.
Marco Alfoy, the second-year student he had previously beaten unconscious during an official arena duel, stood near the center ring. He guided a group through a parry sequence.
He turned his head and spotted the silver-haired first-year standing casually under the stone archway. Marco’s eyes widened to their limits. The older boy instantly dropped his wooden training sword into the dirt.
[GoonLord: BRO YOU ARE IN THE WRONG ZONE!]
[Skeptic: he literally ignores every warning sign on the planet.]
[NewbHunter: Marco looks like he just saw a ghost.]
Solomon crossed his arms and offered a casual grin. He stepped further into the courtyard, fully prepared to observe their techniques.