Chapter 315: Exam?!

The morning sun broke through the heavy city smog of the central district, casting a brilliant golden light over the crowded avenues of the market sector.

Tony Clark walked along the stone pavement completely solo, his hands casually tucked into the wide pockets of his dark hunting cloak. He had left Julie Faith behind to guard the Cloud-Mist Pavilion and declined Selena’s luxurious merchant carriages.

For this new path, he chose to move entirely unbothered and alone. The magnificent Void Dragon’s Shadow Bow was securely strapped across his back, entirely hidden beneath the folds of his cloak as his heavy leather boots made a slow, lazy rhythm against the cobblestones.

Tony navigated the twisting labyrinth of the central district until the crowded market stalls gave way to a massive, isolated plaza constructed from pure, white spiritual marble.

Standing majestically at the absolute center of the clearing was a colossal, five-story pagoda carved entirely from rare, fragrant purple-sandalwood timber—the infamous Abyssal Lotus Pavilion.

The air around the grand pavilion was so incredibly thick with the dense, sweet aroma of boiling spiritual herbs and ancient medicinal plants that an ordinary mortal citizen would instantly feel their internal lifespan extend by a year just by breathing the air outside the walls.

However, the grand entrance gates of the pavilion were completely blocked by a chaotic, massive ocean of people.

Hundreds of minor noble young masters, rogue cultivators, and desperate province merchants were tightly packed against the iron-reinforced barriers, all of them holding gold trays or crimson chests filled with wealth, screaming frantically to gain an audience with the mysterious master alchemist, Lady Vivienne Vane.

Some were begging for low-tier breakthrough pills to save their failing foundations, others were crying for high-grade poison antidotes for their wounded relatives, and several wealthy sycophants were simply trying to sneak their way inside through minor miscellaneous requests just to catch a glimpse of the beautiful lady’s royal countenance.

Standing at the front of the grand iron gate was a towering, muscular gatekeeper dressed in the heavy crimson armor of the pavilion’s private security line. His face was a mask of pure, unadulterated disgust as he violently waved a massive halberd forward, his cultivation pressure radiating an absolute 10th-Class Grand Disciple aura that completely suppressed the chaotic crowd.

“Get the hell out of here, all of you!” the gatekeeper roared ruthlessly, his booming voice cutting through the desperate cries like a sharp razor blade.

“Lady Vivienne has explicitly commanded that she will not receive a single miscellaneous visitor, prince, or beggar for the rest of the month! Your dirty gold trays and common commoner wealth are nothing more than useless garbage to our pavilion! Stop wasting our precious air and vacate this plaza immediately, or the private enforcement mages will personally break your bones and toss your pathetic bodies into the city gutters!”

With a brutal shove of his halberd, the gatekeeper violently blasted a dozen begging merchants backward onto the hard marble floor, completely slamming the heavy iron gates shut in their faces.

Tony Clark stood near the absolute edge of the plaza, a slow, highly amused grin curling the corners of his lips as he witnessed the total, ruthless rejection of the city’s elite. He let out a soft, lazy yawn and crossed his arms over his chest, his strategic mind rapidly calculating the parameters of the situation.

He knew that trying to use his raw physical strength to smash through the pavilion’s security line would only result in a loud, premature conflict with the inner peak authorities, completely ruining his plans to secure Lady Vivienne as a high-tier independent backer for the World Alchemy Summit. He needed an absolute, legitimate legal loophole to walk straight through those front doors without triggering any unnecessary suspicion from the mythical Tian Family’s global tracking arrays.

Tony turned his head slightly, his sharp dark eyes scanning the polished stone walls near the side of the grand archway. Suddenly, an active, glowing runic parchment pinned directly onto the central notice board caught his attention. He activated his Truth Eye at its absolute maximum capacity, his vision effortlessly piercing through the crowd to read the written text. It was an official, public recruitment notice drafted directly by the pavilion’s grand elders.

“The Grand Abyssal Lotus Pavilion Apprentice Recruitment Trial. Open strictly to all independent juniors of the central province. Registration closes in exactly three days. The trial consists of three absolute, unyielding trial stages:”

“Stage 1: The Written Examination. Testing the absolute, raw comprehension of ancient alchemical history and foundational law structures.”

“Stage 2: The Identification of Herbs and Uses. Testing the examinee’s physical ability to decipher, categorize, and calculate the exact molecular weight and medicinal combinations of one hundred rare spiritual plants under a strict time limit.”

“Stage 3: The Innate Fire Ability. Testing the absolute, primal manipulation of internal fire-attribute elements to verify if the candidate’s physical meridians possess the raw qualifications to safely control an alchemical cauldron without self-combusting.”

A wide, ruthlessly brilliant smile slowly spread across Tony’s face as the contents of the recruitment notice perfectly aligned with his calculating ambitions. The system had just synchronized the Primordial Alchemy Art into his consciousness the previous night, giving him an absolute, 100% mastery over every single foundational recipe, runic balance, and herb combination matrix in the universe. While the other proud noble young masters considered the written exam and the herb identification test to be an absolute nightmare of grueling, decades-long memorization, to Tony’s system-boosted mind, the entire three-stage trial was nothing more than an open invitation to execute a total public joke.

I am Tony Clark, his strategic mind roared internally, his jaw tightening into a firm, iron-like lock as his self-motivating talk flooded his consciousness. Lady Vivienne Vane refuses to look at gold or accept common princes because she values raw fundamental mastery over empty vanity. If I walk inside as a common beggar, she will throw me into the street; but if I march through her three-stage trial and achieve an absolute, terrifyingly perfect score that shatters the historical records of her pavilion, she will have absolutely no choice but to recognize my talent and grant me her highest-grade summit recommendation token. This recruitment test is the perfect, flawless script to catch her attention and force her onto my grand chessboard.

Tony walked over to the registration altar sitting near the corner of the plaza, his standard lazy posture perfectly restored as he casually pulled his copper academy identity token from his belt and tossed it onto the stone desk before a startled receptionist elder.

“Register my name for the apprentice trial, Elder,” Tony announced smoothly, his deep baritone voice carrying a chilling, razor-sharp edge of absolute confidence that instantly made the nearby whispering nobles freeze.

The receptionist elder looked up, his eyes widening to the size of saucers as he recognized the famous name of the direct disciple who had just vaporized the Vance clan elders a single day ago. “T-Tony Clark?!” the elder stammered, his hands trembling violently as he quickly stamped the bronze registration scroll. “You are already a peak Elder Disciple magus under the Grand Elder! Why would you risk your status to enter our pavilion’s baseline apprentice trial?!”

“Because this lower world is far too small for my game, old man,” Tony sneered coldly, a sharp, villainous grin curling his lips as he accepted his glowing participant token and tucked it into his cloak.

He turned on his heel, his dark hunting cloak billowing in the wind as he strode back toward the path leading to the academy, entirely ignoring the shocked, trembling glares of the crowd.