Chapter Twenty: Foes Meet on a Narrow Road

As the most prestigious public academy in Torrent City, Crimson Maple Academy was a household name. For years, it had held the top position among the "Three Elite Schools," producing countless outstanding students who were selected into the various Divine Halls. Many renowned heroes first made their mark in the academy’s trials.

The city’s foremost expert, Hidden Dragon, had once stolen the limelight during the Green Demon Forest trials—his name alone was enough to make both trolls and god-hunters frown in dismay. Far away on the frozen frontlines, “Black Magic Sword” Godbane, who guarded the desperate ramparts of the Impasse Wall, had once dominated the martial rankings of Crimson Maple Academy. Back then, the shy, dark-faced youth had become an indispensable pillar of power in the northern reaches of Torrent City.

Even the proud prince of the elves from Green Demon Forest had once studied here. And there was also the demigod now revered in the Sixth Divine Hall… The legends of Crimson Maple Academy were too numerous to count; the names and stories drew generation after generation of admirers to this place, each beginning a new legend of their own.

Crimson Maple Academy stood on the bustling Lanshire Avenue, the most prosperous street in Torrent City. The school was open and free, its small gate connected directly to the avenue, and anyone could enter.

At this moment, Ye Ran stood before the academy gates. Leaning against the entrance was a five-meter-tall slab of white stone, inscribed with the school’s motto: “Revere the heavens, respect the earth, and put people first.” This phrase was widely known throughout Torrent City, and visitors from all over the continent would make a point to come and pay their respects to the white stone.

People came and went at the gate: students who lived on the street, tourists drawn to the famous site, but mostly students from Crimson Maple Academy itself. Since the academy recruited in cooperation with all the major races, the passing throng included not just humans, but elves, rabbitfolk, treants, and even gods. All were dressed in splendid attire, exuding an air of elegance that stood in stark contrast to Ye Ran’s humble appearance.

Students passing by Ye Ran all held their heads high with pride, even the dwarves, who were considered to hold lower status.

Ye Ran didn’t ask for directions, simply following the flow of people toward the registration area for the written examination.

Because the admissions expansion this year was less restrictive, and the three-stage elimination exam system was in place, the number of participants for the first written test was astonishing. They entered the school gates, following the wide central path through the gardens and around to the back of the academic buildings.

Ye Ran’s pace alternated between quick and slow, and the two people following him did the same, always keeping a distance of five to ten steps behind.

Ye Ran sneered silently, then at a turn ahead left the crowd, moving into a quiet pavilion set apart from the throng. He turned back, one hand in his pocket, watching the long line of examinees.

Sure enough, a tall, golden-haired youth emerged from the crowd, striding toward him with the bearing of a dragon or tiger. The youth had thick brows, large eyes, and stood close to 1.9 meters tall—a full head taller than Ye Ran. His golden hair was soft and voluminous, and he wore a loose, luxurious robe.

Trailing behind him was a small, stooped old man, hands clasped behind his back, whose tiny eyes glimmered with a golden light.

“You’re quite alert, Ye Ran,” the youth said, smiling as he approached.

“You know me?” asked Ye Ran.

The youth shook his head. “No, but my brother’s name should be familiar to you. He’s called Atreus.”

“It rings a bell, but if you hadn’t mentioned it, I might not have remembered,” Ye Ran replied.

The youth was unperturbed. “No matter. I rarely remember the names of those I’ve defeated—just remember mine: I am Armos.”

“I’ll do my best,” Ye Ran said. “If you’re here to avenge Atreus, I’ll give you the chance. But whether you succeed depends on your own strength.”

Armos laughed heartily, regarding him with interest. “Ye Ran, you’re mistaken. That useless brother of mine isn’t worth my intervention. He puts on one face in public and another in private, never daring to fight openly—always stabbing from the shadows. No one but fools like Mars would befriend him. But, as useless as he is, he’s still of House Atre. You slapped his face, which means you slapped the face of House Atre. As the eldest son, it’s my duty to restore our honor.”

Ye Ran chuckled. “He lost face to me of his own accord. Aren’t you afraid you’ll lose yours as well? Or do you have a brother too, who’ll call you useless behind your back after you lose, then seek me out for the family’s honor?”

His words were sharp, and Armos’s and the old man’s expressions instantly chilled.

A cold, sinister aura pressed in, seeping into the bones, but Ye Ran remained unfazed. This old man was strong, but still far inferior to the purple-haired woman from the underground lair.

Neither expected this “backpacker” to be so defiant. Armos stared at him for a while, then nodded. “Backpacker, you’re bold. I hope you’ll be just as sharp-tongued during the martial exam.”

Ye Ran was rather scornful; Armos and Atreus were two of a kind—pretending to be magnanimous, but petty and vindictive at heart.

He turned and merged back into the crowd, but Armos called after him, “Ye Ran, even if you have no hope, I sincerely hope you make it to the final round. It’s far more satisfying to see a stubborn man beg for mercy than to watch a coward grovel from the start.”

With that, he vanished into the throng.

Ye Ran waited a moment, then melted into the sea of people, rounding the garden, passing through the covered walkway, and finally circling into a plaza. For some reason, the flow of people ahead seemed to slow.

The plaza was covered with a vast black carpet, stretching for thousands of meters. At its center stood a colossal spherical structure. The blue sphere was only slightly shorter than the academic buildings on either side, and two rows of burly guards flanked its massive doors, maintaining order.

As Ye Ran stepped onto the plaza, he suddenly felt his body lurch—the ground beneath his feet exerted a sudden pull. The others felt it too, exchanging startled looks.

From between the rows of guards at the entrance of the spherical building, a middle-aged man emerged. His face was amiable and his lips curled in a smile, yet his words sent a ripple of shock through the examinees.

“Students, please quicken your pace. Anyone not inside before the doors close will be eliminated,” he announced gently.

“What?!”

“What is Crimson Maple Academy up to?”

“Is this a race?”

The crowd erupted in an uproar. Ye Ran’s eye twitched, and he immediately quickened his steps. The middle-aged man remained unhurried, still smiling, “Please don’t worry; there’s no risk of trampling injuries. This carpet is specially designed—anyone who falls will be automatically transported out of the examination hall. Good luck, students.”

“Damn, we’d better run!”

A few people behind Ye Ran shoved past him and sprinted forward, but after a few steps, their pace slowed—the further they went, the greater the pull from the ground.

Behind the middle-aged man, the enormous doors groaned as they began to close, a warning for those still outside to hurry.

Ye Ran broke into a run…