Dawn examined his surroundings with a plain gaze, looking at the crowd of people surrounding him. He couldn’t stop himself from muttering, "Which human station is this?"
The Eternal Battlefield was an unimaginably huge place. No one knew where it began or where it eventually ended. The place with unspeakable horrors seed to stretch endlessly.
Even in this impossibly dangerous Eternal Battlefield, there were places which were slightly safe for fragile human lives, known as stations. These stations were like an oasis in a desert.
As if following so sort of strange rule, there would be one station in the range of 1,000 kiloters.
So of these stations would be beginner-friendly, like the ’Green Goblin Tribe Castle’ station, which was filled with weak, mindless goblins that could be easily killed. While so were not beginner-friendly... like, for example, the station that Dawn found himself in.
A faint, acrid scent tickled Dawn’s nose—sharp, almost tallic. The humid air clung to his skin like a second layer, thick and suffocating.
His throat felt dry, his instincts screaming at him before his mind even processed the reality.
"Poisonous Swamp..."
A slight shift in the wind brought with it a sickly-sweet aroma. His heartbeat quickened. That sll—it was death. A careless breath of the wrong air, and his lungs could rot from the inside.
"Tch, is this a joke?" His lips curled into a bitter smile. "Out of all places, I end up in the worst possible station?"
As its na implied, the Poisonous Swamp was filled with dangerous poisonous fog all around, with very harsh living conditions.
A single misstep might result in instant death.
It would be a miracle if the Awakeners were able to survive for one month.
However, it wasn’t like there was no hope at all. Dawn’s gaze slightly moved forward, and the recruiter standing appeared in his vision.
Three groups of people, fully ard to the teeth, looked at the newcors with indifference in their eyes.
Just as he was surveying the surroundings, he felt soone looking in his direction; his eyes narrowed. After spending three years of his life in the Nether Colony, he had beco very aware of his surroundings.
A prickling sensation crawled up Dawn’s spine—a feeling of being watched.
His gaze flicked to the side, landing on a young man with curly golden hair and piercing blue eyes that glead with sharpness, like a blade half-drawn from its sheath.
For a brief mont, their gazes locked. The blonde-haired man narrowed his eyes, sothing unreadable flickering in them.
Then, just as quickly, he looked away.
Dawn frowned. "Do I know this guy...?"
After thinking hard for a mont, a mory that was buried sowhere deep in his head erged.
The symbol of two crossed swords was stitched onto his chest looked sowhat familiar. Dawn’s mind instantly connected the dots—Flying Sword Royal Academy.
"Flying Sword Royal Academy! Isn’t this the symbol of the Academy where my elder brother went to study?"
He had heard his mother ntion it in the past; at that ti, he really didn’t pay attention. Thinking about certain things, his opinion of the young man changed in his head slightly. According to what he had heard, the youngsters who managed to enter were incredibly talented fellows.
...
Kane imdiately turned his head away when he realized he was caught probing and couldn’t stop himself from thinking in awe.
"Such sharp senses..."
He had made sure to keep his probing as concealed as possible, but even then he was caught.
You have to understand, Kane was known for his stealth and concealed actions; no one had ever been able to catch him in class if he really wanted to hide himself.
He couldn’t help but wonder who this young man was, but he had a feeling that this man was sohow related to that hateful fellow Lucas Skylar.
Just as he was about to continue pondering, he heard a loud commotion coming from below.
"Argh! I am sorry."
A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the swamp, cutting through the murmurs of the newcors.
A figure crumpled to the ground, his body twisting like a cockroach as blows rained down on him from all sides. The wet, sickening crack of a bone snapping sent shivers through the crowd.
"How dare you, no-class trash, talk to like this?!"
A boot slamd into the downed recruit’s ribs. The man coughed violently, spitting blood onto the swampy ground. His hands weakly clawed at the mud, trying—and failing—to crawl away.
The recruiter sneered. "Do you think my Flowing Swamp organization is so third-rate group that would accept garbage like you?"
The man beating the newcor was a middle-aged man with a slightly crooked nose; in his hand was an iron pole that was slightly bent.
After delivering the last blow which caused the newcor to faint, the man spat on the ground and turned to face the platform.
The newcors who hadn’t received adequate training and were first ti exposed to violence felt their legs shaking from such a cruel display.
All of the veterans and so passersby watched this scene in silence; so even had a slightly mocking look in their eyes.
Kane Hemsworth also realized what was going on and sighed.
Killing a chicken to scare the monkeys—his actions seed really effective as the platform filled with people had fallen completely silent.
Kane thought the poor guy lying on the ground was really unlucky to be exploited on day one.
"If any of you dare to open your mouth again without permission, don’t bla for being ruthless."
With these words, he kicked the body of the fainted guy.
All the people present heard the sound of several bones breaking loud and clear.
Just at this ti, the sound of coquettish laughter ca from the distance, followed by the appearance of a beautiful woman with a head full of black hair.
Her silky smooth hair lightly danced in the wind even though there were no strong winds at this ti.
"My, my, you people are really restless. At this rate, how will my peaceful Truth Seeker organization complete its work in ti?"
The woman’s voice was like the sound of morning bells, calming to listen to, filled with a strong attractive power that made people focus on her words.
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