Renly's senses surged like an unrelenting wave, briefly scanning the distance before he resumed his path.

Before long, he arrived at the goblin village he had once fled from, his hasty retreat earlier had spurred by the arrival of the goblin generals. The sight that greeted him now was both shocking and grim, forcing his eyes to narrow in astonishment.

The entire village was strewn with corpses. Had it been only goblins, it might have seemed almost satisfying, perhaps a testament to the participants' strength. But now, human and goblin bodies alike littered the ground in a grotesque sea of blood and gore.

Renly surveyed the scene with a hardened expression, his gaze lingering on the lifeless forms of the participants sprawled across the battlefield.

While goblin bodies vastly outnumbered those of the humans, the condition of the latter was far more appalling. Many had been mangled beyond recognition, with some reduced to little more than bloody pulp.

‘Vicious monsters!’ he thought bitterly.

There was no doubt in his mind who the perpetrators were. The goblin generals were the only ones capable of such savagery; ordinary goblin warriors were far too weak, mere chickens destined for slaughter against the participants.

Renly's stomach churned as he considered the possibility that he could have easily joined the fallen. Only his last-moment awakening of Absolute Perception had saved him from being slain by the goblin general who had nearly ended his life. Yet, a troubling thought continued to gnaw at him.

‘Is the assessment truly meant to be this brutal?’

The Crimson Moon Sect was infamous for its grueling and deadly trials, a reputation that had been cultivated over centuries. Deaths during assessments were hardly unheard of. Yet even with the blood-soaked risks, the sect’s unparalleled prestige and the promise of forging one’s path among the rising stars of the new generation drew countless hopefuls each year.

Participants came from every corner of the southern region and beyond, traveling from distant lands across the continent. They were willing to risk their lives for the chance to join this historic and illustrious sect.

The stakes were high, but so were the rewards, rewards that these ambitious young aspirants could not afford to ignore.

And within their ranks were individuals whose strength and potential could not be underestimated. Monsters in their own right, they too fought to claim the Crimson Moon Sect’s favor.

Renly steadied his thoughts, his gaze fixed ahead. In the distance, two participants remained locked in fierce combat, each entangled in an intense battle with a goblin general.

For a moment, Renly watched them closely, his attention drawn to one fighter in particular. This person's plump frame bore the marks of relentless combat, his body battered and riddled with wounds. With a decisive nod, Renly made his move.

His body moved like a shadow, swift and deliberate. His spear shot through the air, its tip glinting as it aimed for the battlefield.

Clang!

The spear intercepted a halberd mid-swing, a deadly, powerful strike that was moments away from splitting the wounded participant in two. Renly’s timely intervention had turned the tide.

But he didn’t stop there. His spear quivered in his grasp, spiritual energy coursing through it like a living current. With a sudden surge of momentum, he launched a flurry of rapid, precise jabs at the bloodhound beneath the goblin general.

The strikes were so fast and ferocious that only their devastating aftermath was visible. Blood streamed from the creature’s body, spilling like water from a punctured vessel. The bloodhound crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap, unable to even shriek under the weight of its fatal wounds.

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The goblin general froze, its expression twisting into one of disbelief. It hadn’t yet processed what had occurred. Moments ago, it had been poised to finish off its prey, but its final, triumphant strike had been deflected. And now, its trusted mount lay motionless, riddled with wounds that seemed to appear from nowhere.

Slowly, its eyes turned to the source of the chaos—Renly. Recognition dawned on its contorted face, its red eyes narrowing in fury. The general let out a shrill cry, its anger erupting in an ear-splitting shriek.

But before it could act, Renly’s spear struck again. With blinding speed, it shot forward, shimmering and vibrating with concentrated spiritual energy. The relentless barrage of jabs aimed directly for the goblin general’s head.

The attack was devastating. Half of the goblin’s face exploded in a bizarre burst of blood and gore, silencing its rage before it could fully express it. The creature crumpled to the ground, lifeless, its fury extinguished as swiftly as it had ignited.

‘I don’t even need to use my spear techniques to kill them now’, Renly mused silently, his expression remaining unchanged, listless and placid throughout the swift yet decisive battle.

The plump participant Renly had just saved stared at him in astonishment, his breaths coming in ragged, labored gasps as he tried to steady himself.

‘This person… what a monster,’ he thought, overwhelmed by the sheer disparity between their abilities.

The goblin general that had nearly killed him moments ago had been felled with an ease and precision that defied belief. The strength and skill this person displayed were on an entirely different level.

Though he had managed to slay a few goblin generals himself, he knew how formidable they were. Even with his cultivation at the second stage, every encounter left him drained, his spiritual energy nearly depleted, his body weakened.

Each victory came at a cost. This last goblin general, relentless and cunning, would undoubtedly have killed him had this person not intervened.

He had anticipated encountering monstrous talents during the assessment, top-tier geniuses from powerful organizations, but seeing one in person was another matter entirely. It was humbling, even unsettling.

Gathering his thoughts, the participant straightened, arranging his expression into one of solemn gratitude. With a tone both respectful and practiced, he said,

“Ah, simple words cannot express the immense gratitude I feel, O great genius of our time. Your act of kindness toward me, I shall remember it to my last days.”

Then, with a touch of curiosity coloring his voice, he added, “May I know my benefactor’s name? I am Zephyr Solaris, from—”

“You’re the one who suggested we shouldn’t kill the goblin warriors at the portal entrance earlier, right?”

Renly’s words cut him off sharply. He hadn’t so much as glanced in Zephyr’s direction, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon.

Though his posture remained relaxed, Renly’s senses were anything but. His senses surged outward silently, sweeping across the surrounding expanse as if searching for something.

“Ah, so my benefactor remembers me? That’s an honor!” Zephyr replied, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. “Well, that was just a small suggestion earlier, haha, nothing much. I only thought the goblins—”

“Why can’t I find any goblin generals? Are they all dead?”

Renly’s voice, once more, cut him off abruptly. This time, his sharp gaze shifted toward Zephyr’s plump figure, a faint frown creasing his otherwise placid expression.

Noticing Renly’s displeasure, Zephyr quickly stammered a response. “Erm, I’m not sure, but I think there are still plenty of goblin generals left. If I had to guess, they’re further in that direction. Several other participants headed that way after dealing with the goblin generals here.”

He pointed decisively as he spoke.

“Ah, I see. Thanks for the tip,” Renly replied, glancing in the indicated direction. A subtle breath of relief escaped him.

For a moment, he had been concerned that the goblin generals were already wiped out. His senses had failed to detect any nearby, and the thought of a monster shortage at such a crucial time was far from acceptable.

He hadn’t yet accumulated enough points to pass the assessment, and now that his strength had reached a new peak, he felt an insatiable urge to continue the hunt.

With that, he slung his spear over his shoulder and dashed off toward the pointed direction, leaving without another word.

Zephyr reached out instinctively, as if to say more, but hesitated, his hand falling back to his side.

‘If it’s him, he should be able to handle those other ones, right? With the strength he displayed…’

The thought lingered in his mind before he shook his head with a self-deprecating sigh.

‘What am I even worrying about? I need to focus on myself first.’

He turned his attention to the other participant still on the battlefield, who had just concluded his grueling fight with a goblin general. The participant stood unsteadily, clearly drained, before collapsing onto the ground to catch his breath.

As he lay there, desperately gathering his strength, his weary gaze flickered toward Zephyr, a faint chuckle escaping his lips despite his ragged breathing.

“Who was that guy who just saved your sorry ass? And you think you’re going to make it into the inner sect? Isn’t it about time you woke up from whatever dream you’re still in?”

Zephyr snorted, his face twisting into a look of disdain. “Enough with your yapping. Who said I was aiming for the inner sect? I’ve already reached the points required to pass the assessment. That was my goal from the start.”

The other participant gave a low, mocking chuckle. “Ah, such shameless excuses.”

Zephyr’s face darkened, his anger flaring.

“Don’t you think it’s unwise to provoke me in your current condition?” he growled. Picking up his short sword from the side, he traced the edge of the blade with his fingers, his voice dropping to an ominous tone.

“You know... I might lose my temper and... who knows what could happen...”

The other participant’s expression grew serious, a flicker of unease crossing his face. Zephyr’s expression looked far too sincere, his tone carrying a chilling edge, as if he was on the verge of giving in to whatever evil thoughts he was thinking.

“You… don’t even dare...”

Zephyr tilted his head, his expression suddenly shifting into mock innocence.

“Hm? What are you talking about? Dare what? You look scared. What happened? Did someone bully you? Come on, Julius, talk to me. I’m here for you…”

“...”

Julius could only stare at Zephyr in silence,

though he seemed unsurprised. It was as if he had grown accustomed to this peculiar, unnerving personality.