200: Chapter 201 The assessment begins, another examinee...

He was tall and burly, with a build that clearly marked him as a strength-based fighter.

Moreover, he exuded a thick scent of blood—not the kind from someone who had just killed, but a murderous Aura that had seeped into his very marrow after years of struggling on the edge of life and death.

The middle-aged man swept his gaze around the courtyard, pausing for a brief moment on both Lin Ye and the young man.

"Are you both here? Then come in."

Lin Ye and the young man followed the middle-aged man into the room.

The room was spacious and lacked unnecessary furnishings; there was only a long table and a few chairs.

The middle-aged man sat down behind the long table, picked up two booklets from the table, flipped through them, and then looked up, his gaze falling first on the young man.

"Yang Zhao?"

The young man nodded, his voice steady: "Yes."

The middle-aged man then looked at Lin Ye: "Lin Ye?"

"Yes."

The middle-aged man closed the booklets, set them aside, and then stood up to walk outside: "Follow me."

The three of them crossed the courtyard and arrived at the Martial Arts Training Ground in the back.

This Martial Arts Training Ground was much smaller than the one at the main entrance of the Demon Suppression Division, only about half the size of a basketball court.

The middle-aged man walked to the center of the Martial Arts Training Ground, turned around, and faced Lin Ye and the young man named Yang Zhao.

"The rules of the assessment are very simple." His voice was not loud, but it was full of vigor.

"As long as you can last thirty moves against me, or force me to take a step back, you pass."

As he spoke, he casually drew a saber from the weapon rack.

The saber was of a plain design, clearly a standard-issue weapon meant for assessments.

But the moment he held it in his hand, his entire Aura changed; he became like a drawn steel blade, sharp and unstoppable.

"Who will go first?"

Before Lin Ye could speak, Yang Zhao stepped forward and cupped his hands: "I will."

With that, he walked quickly into the Martial Arts Training Ground.

Seeing this, Lin Ye stepped back and watched quietly.

This sort of thing was the same regardless of who went first; in fact, going later might even be an advantage.

Yang Zhao stood firm in the center of the Martial Arts Training Ground, drew the long saber from his waist, pointed the tip toward the ground, and assumed a standard opening stance.

His Aura also became sharp; although it wasn't very strong, his serious attitude was commendable.

The middle-aged man did not waste any words and said indifferently: "Begin."

The moment the words fell, Yang Zhao made the first move.

His speed was not slow, his feet crossed rapidly on the ground, and within a few breaths, he was upon the middle-aged man.

The long saber slashed upward, the blade creating a sharp whistling sound as it cut through the air, heading straight for the middle-aged man's waist and abdomen.

The middle-aged man didn't even lift an eyelid; he blocked with his saber held horizontally.

"Clang!"

A crisp sound rang out, and sparks flew.

Yang Zhao's long saber was knocked back, and his body staggered half a step backward.

His expression changed slightly, but he did not retreat. After steadying himself, he pressed forward again.

The long saber in his hand slashed down like a storm, one strike after another, each faster than the last.

The blade light wove into an impenetrable net in the air, enveloping the middle-aged man.

The middle-aged man remained standing in place, barely moving a single step.

The long saber in his hand seemed to have eyes, always blocking every one of Yang Zhao's attacks with precision at the most opportune moment.

His movements were not large—one could even say they were minimal—yet he effortlessly neutralized all of Yang Zhao's offensives.

That effortless demeanor gave the impression of an adult playing with a child.

Ten moves.

Fifteen moves.

Twenty moves.

After twenty moves, Yang Zhao's offensive clearly slowed down.

His breathing became somewhat ragged, and his saber technique unconsciously became chaotic.

It couldn't be helped; the middle-aged man's defense was too tight. Every one of his strikes felt like it was hitting an iron wall.

Not only did he fail to injure the opponent in the slightest, but his own wrists were numbed by the impact.

Soon, it was the twenty-fifth move.

Yang Zhao slashed down, but the force was not what it had been before.

The middle-aged man turned slightly, blocked the saber, and pressed Yang Zhao's blade to the side. Then, with a sudden burst of strength, he vibrated his blade, causing Yang Zhao's long saber to instantly fly out of his hand.

It spun in the air a few times before landing on the bluestone floor with a "clang," bouncing a couple of times before rolling far away.

Immediately afterward, the middle-aged man backhanded his saber, striking Yang Zhao in the chest.

"Bang!"

Yang Zhao's body flew out of the Martial Arts Training Ground like a kite with a broken string.

The middle-aged man sheathed his saber, stood firm, and fixed his gaze on Yang Zhao.

"Your Foundation is unstable, and your saber technique is even more unsightly. You have failed the assessment."

Yang Zhao climbed up from the ground, his Face flushed red. He wanted to say something, but in the end, he didn't say a word.

There was no helping it; he was the one who initiated the attack, attempting to pass the assessment by forcing the opponent back.

And the opponent had already shown him a lot of Face by remaining in a defensive posture the entire time; otherwise, he might not have lasted even a single move.

However, Lin Ye, standing outside the arena, saw it clearly. Although the middle-aged man's cultivation had reached that of a Seventh-Grade Martial Artist, he had controlled his strength to the Eighth-Grade level from start to finish. Not only did he not use his Blood Qi Power, but he hadn't even really used his Internal Qi.

He relied purely on his seasoned saber technique to neutralize the opponent's attacks for the first twenty-plus moves, and only used a bit of real effort on the final strike.

He probably realized the young man's combat ability was just average, so he decided not to waste any more time and ended the fight with one move.

After all, the Demon Suppression Division Faces Demons; going easy during an assessment would be irresponsible to the examinees.

Meanwhile, the middle-aged man's gaze fell upon Lin Ye.

"It's your turn."

Lin Ye was not intimidated; he walked over and picked an iron staff from the weapon rack.

The staff was not long, only about six feet, and was cast entirely from refined iron.

He weighed it in his hand; it was only about a hundred catties.

Although it didn't feel quite right, it was enough to handle the assessment.

Lin Ye walked into the Martial Arts Training Ground holding the staff, his pace unhurried, his expression as calm as water.

This state did not look like he was going for an assessment, but rather like he was out for a leisurely stroll.

When the middle-aged man saw Lin Ye choose a staff, he raised his eyebrows slightly.

He had presided over assessments for many years and had seen all kinds of weapons used, but rarely did anyone use a staff.

A weapon like a staff could be terrifyingly powerful if mastered, but it was a joke if not.

However, he did not say much.

It was the candidate's freedom to choose their weapon; he would not interfere too much.

Seeing Lin Ye stand firm on the opposite side, he said indifferently: "Begin."

However, upon hearing this, Lin Ye did not make a move. He remained standing there, the iron staff hanging diagonally at his side, assuming a defensive stance.

Seeing this, the middle-aged man narrowed his eyes slightly.

He had hosted assessments for many years and had seen too many young people come to participate.

Most people were like Yang Zhao earlier, anxious to prove their strength, coming at him with a menacing Aura from the start, wishing to use every ounce of their strength. Only a very small number would choose to defend.

After all, between lasting thirty moves against a Seventh-Grade Martial Artist and forcing him to take a step back, the latter clearly seemed simpler.

If it were anyone else, he would have definitely called them overconfident.

But for some reason, Lin Ye gave him a completely different feeling.

Just by standing there, the opponent gave him a feeling of being as immovable as a mountain.

This couldn't help but pique his interest.

"Since you won't make a move, then I will attack." As soon as he finished speaking, the long saber in the middle-aged man's hand slashed out.

This strike was not fast, but it was heavy and powerful, like a mountain collapsing from a great height, crushing forward with an unstoppable momentum.

Seeing this, Lin Ye raised the iron staff and gave it a light flick, the tip of the staff accurately striking the blade.

The next second, the middle-aged man's expression changed drastically.