321: Chapter 321, Level 4

The number of people who passed the Mental Trial was fewer than Ling Ye had anticipated.

Out of fifty-three people, seventeen had either withdrawn midway through the Heart Hall or been carried out by guards, leaving thirty-six people qualified to enter the fourth trial.

Some faces showed joy, while others looked grave—because they all knew that the fourth trial would no longer be about sitting in a hall for a test, but rather fighting real Yao Beasts with cold steel.

The middle-aged man in the deep green robe appeared once again.

He stood on the steps in front of the Heart Hall, swept his gaze over the remaining thirty-six people, and spoke: "Congratulations to everyone for passing the first three trials.

Being able to make it this far shows that you already possess the basic qualities to become a Disciple of the Qingyun Sect.

But this final trial is the key that will truly determine whether you can stay."

He paused for a moment, his tone becoming more serious: "The fourth trial is combat.

You will enter the back mountain hunting grounds one by one to engage in a one-on-one duel with an adult Iron-backed Wolf.

This trial is not about winning or losing, but about your performance.

We will grade you based on your reactions, judgment, courage, and combat skills.

Those who are afraid to fight, those who retreat, or those who have no ability to fight back will not be admitted."

He paused again and added: "Of course, you may also choose to forfeit.

Those who forfeit will not be held accountable, but they also will not be admitted."

No one stepped forward to forfeit.

Anyone who could make it this far would not back down at this moment.

The middle-aged man nodded, seemingly not surprised by this result: "Very well. Follow me."

He turned and walked toward the back of the mountain, with the thirty-six people following silently behind him.

The group passed through a dense forest and followed a winding path for about half an hour before a tall wooden fence appeared ahead; behind the fence was a dense woodland, and one could faintly hear the low roars of beasts coming from within.

In front of the fence was a row of weapon racks displaying various weapons—longswords, short blades, long staffs, bows and arrows, as well as some exotic weapons that Ling Ye could not name.

Standing next to them was a Green-robed Disciple responsible for distributing the weapons.

The middle-aged man stopped, turned around, and said to everyone: "You may choose a weapon you are comfortable with from here.

The Iron-backed Wolf has thick skin and flesh, and ordinary blades are difficult to inflict fatal damage upon it, but as long as you can strike its vital points, it is not impossible to defeat.

Remember, the purpose of this trial is to examine your combat ability, not to make you throw your lives away.

If you believe you are no match, you can call out for help, and the nearby guards will intervene immediately."

Ling Ye walked to the weapon rack, his gaze quickly scanning the weapons on it.

He picked up a short blade to test its feel—the weight was moderate, the center of gravity was forward, suitable for hacking and slashing, but the blade was slightly short; against a large Yao Beast like the Iron-backed Wolf, he would need to get close to inflict effective damage, which carried a higher risk.

He put down the short blade and picked up a spear.

The shaft was about eight feet long, the tip was sharp, and the material was light and tough; it allowed for attacking targets from a greater distance, and its flexibility was also quite good.

He held the spear, weighed it in his hand, then nodded and reported his choice to the Disciple in charge of registration.

The other candidates also successively selected their weapons.

Some chose longswords, some chose longbows, some chose a pair of short axes, and others chose a shield paired with a short blade.

Ling Ye noticed that the woman in white chose a slender sword, its blade narrow and thin, clearly not meant for head-on clashes; the sturdy young man chose a pair of heavy maces, their copper-yellow shafts as thick as a child's arm, clearly indicating a strength-based fighting style; and the youngest, thin boy chose a longbow nearly as tall as himself, along with a quiver of arrows.

Seeing that everyone had selected their weapons, the middle-aged man signaled the guards to open the gate of the fence.

A Green-robed Disciple entered the woodland first; after a while, a short whistle came from within—that was the signal indicating the grounds were ready and the Yao Beast was in position.

"First, Zhao Tiezhu." The middle-aged man read out the first name.

A burly youth stepped out in response, holding a heavy cleaver in his hand, took a deep breath, and walked into the enclosure.

The gate closed behind him.

The people outside waited quietly.

Soon, low roars and the sound of weapons clashing came from the woodland, mixed with the youth's shouts and footsteps.

After about half a cup of tea's time, a loud shout came from inside: "I surrender!" Immediately followed by the guard's whistle, signaling the end of the battle.

The gate opened, and Zhao Tiezhu walked out.

His clothes were torn in several places, and there was a shallow bloodstain on his left arm, but the injury was not serious.

His expression was somewhat ugly, but he was not dejected—at least he had held on for a few rounds without collapsing at the first touch.

The middle-aged man expressionlessly made a note on the roster and then called out the next name.

The candidates entered the hunting grounds one after another and came out one by one.

Some performed well, tangling with the Iron-backed Wolf for a long time before being rescued by the guards; some were knocked to the ground within a few breaths of entering and crawled out in a sorry state; others truly displayed exceptional combat talent, such as the woman in white—she used that slender sword to inflict a deep wound on the Iron-backed Wolf's flank, and although she eventually withdrew due to exhaustion, her performance clearly sparked low discussions among the Green-robed Disciples nearby.

When the sturdy young man walked out carrying his double maces, his body was covered in mud and blood—most of which belonged to the Iron-backed Wolf.

He had left a distinct blunt injury on the Iron-backed Wolf's head, striking the Yao Beast so hard it was dazed for a moment.

When the middle-aged man recorded it on the roster, his pen tip lingered for a moment longer than before.

Finally, it was Ling Ye's turn.

"Ling Ye."

He gripped the spear and walked toward the gate.

The guard opened the door, he stepped inside, and the gate behind him closed again.

The woodland inside the hunting grounds was a bit more open than he had imagined.

The trees were sparse, and the ground was covered with thick fallen leaves, feeling soft underfoot.

The air was filled with a wild, musky scent of animals, along with a faint smell of blood—the traces left by the previous candidates.

He slowed his pace, adjusted his breathing, and focused his attention on his hearing and sight.

He heard heavy breathing coming from the bushes on his left.

He stopped, turned slowly, and faced that direction.

The spear in his hand tilted slightly, the tip pointing toward the ground, assuming a posture that seemed relaxed but was actually ready to launch an attack at any moment.

The bushes shook, and then an Iron-backed Wolf walked out slowly.

It was larger than Ling Ye had imagined.

Its shoulder height was about three feet, its body length nearly ten feet, and its whole body was covered in coarse, grey-black fur, with a prominent dark mane along its spine—that was likely the origin of the name "Iron-backed."

Its mouth curled slightly, revealing yellowing fangs, and drool dripped from between its teeth onto the fallen leaves.

Its eyes were amber, with vertical pupils contracted into thin slits, staring fixedly at Ling Ye.

Ling Ye stared back at it, not moving a muscle.

The Iron-backed Wolf crouched low, pacing slowly around him, as if looking for an opportunity to attack.

Ling Ye also turned his body accordingly, always facing it directly, not letting it have a chance to circle to his side or rear.

Man and wolf stood in a standoff on the leaf-covered woodland floor.

Time seemed to slow down.

Ling Ye's breathing was steady and long, and his heartbeat did not accelerate.

His mind was crystal clear, without any distracting thoughts.

He simply focused on those amber vertical pupils, waiting for the moment it would launch its attack.

The Iron-backed Wolf finally lost its patience.

It kicked hard with its hind legs, its body like a grey-black bolt of lightning, lunging straight for Ling Ye's throat.

Ling Ye did not retreat.

He stepped sideways, simultaneously thrusting the spear forward—not toward the wolf's head or torso, but toward the gap between its front leg and chest/abdomen.

The timing of this thrust was perfect, catching the Iron-backed Wolf right in its lunging trajectory, forcing it to change direction midway, or else it would have impaled itself on the spear tip.

The Iron-backed Wolf forced its body to twist in mid-air, landing about ten feet to Ling Ye's side, its limbs plowing four deep furrows into the fallen leaves.

It gave a low growl, lowered its body again, and there was a bit more caution in its amber vertical pupils.

Ling Ye remained standing in place, the spear tip pointing steadily at it, his breathing still calm.

He had confirmed one thing in his heart: this Iron-backed Wolf's combat pattern was simple; its attack style relied mainly on lunging and biting; it was fast, but its turning was not flexible enough; its defense was indeed very strong, but as long as one struck the vital points—eyes, throat, abdomen—it could still inflict effective damage.

He had a chance of winning.

The Iron-backed Wolf launched another attack.

This time it did not lunge directly; instead, it feinted a step to the left, then suddenly darted to the right, attempting to break through from Ling Ye's flank.

Ling Ye did not fall for it—his gaze remained locked on the wolf's shoulders and hips, the most honest parts of an animal that signal before it exerts force.

When the Iron-backed Wolf truly exerted force to lunge to the right, he moved a step to the left in advance, while sweeping the spear out, the shaft accurately striking the Iron-backed Wolf's front leg.

The Iron-backed Wolf let out a pained howl, its charging momentum interrupted, and it stumbled a few steps before steadying itself.

It lowered its head to lick its struck front leg, then raised its head, with a bit more anger and wariness in its amber vertical pupils.

Ling Ye did not pursue.

He reset his stance, waiting for its next attack.

Just then, a short whistle came from outside the fence—that was the signal that time was up.

Hearing the whistle, the Iron-backed Wolf let out a low growl, turned, and dove into the bushes, quickly disappearing into the depths of the woodland.

Ling Ye put away his spear and stood in place, his breathing slightly rapid, but he had no wounds on his body.

The gate opened, and he walked out.

The middle-aged man glanced at him, his gaze lingering on him for a moment—confirming that there were no wounds on his body—and then made a note on the roster.

He did not say any words of evaluation, but Ling Ye noticed that when he was recording, his pen tip lingered for longer than any previous time.

Ling Ye did not pay it any mind.

He walked to the weapon rack, put the spear back in its original place, then found a corner to stand in, waiting quietly for the remaining candidates to complete their trials.

The fourth trial, passed.