Chapter 1: Instant Victory

The mist dissipated, reality returned. When Duguy Bieli and his four companions regained their sight and heard the clamor of voices, they found themselves in an unfamiliar place. They stood in a vast, expansive plaza, where groups of brave souls, each numbering around ten, formed teams and rushed toward a certain direction.

Nearby, portals of light flashed intermittently, bringing forth batches of warriors, each bearing the scent of blood and fierce battle, clearly victors freshly emerged from a brutal fight.

“These people must be the candidates selected for this round, transported from various places to report to the academy,” Wolf said excitedly, his gaze fervent as he looked into the distance. Pointing with his finger, he added, “Over there—that must be the registration area.”

They looked and saw the crowd converging at one spot, all jostling to be first. Encircling them were several generals, assisting a few elderly figures with the registration process.

“Let’s go join them.”

…

Every year, those who earn qualification for Butterfly Academy and pass the assessment—even with the restriction of ten candidates per city—how many cities would a single king govern?

Ten villages make a town, ten towns make a city, ten cities make a territory, ten territories make a sect, three sects make a province, and three provinces form a region. Calculating backwards and multiplying, the total comes to nine thousand candidates. Moreover, powerful families and special forces have additional quotas, and some candidates enter through unrefusable connections, bringing the total to well over ten thousand.

Yet, not all of them are guaranteed entry into the academy.

Even with qualifications, after reporting, further elimination rounds await, with a ratio of one in ten!

Duguy Bieli was unaware of this, as were Wolf and Little Flower; let alone the two sisters, who had never left their village. They simply approached, dazed, and queued up for registration.

In the distance, portals of light continued to open, sending forth new batches of warriors. The once spacious plaza grew crowded, arguments broke out, and sometimes even clashes leading to bloodshed. Yet as long as registration was not disrupted, no one intervened.

The strong rule everywhere.

“Rainbow Moon City,” ten warriors approached together and announced their origin. One quickly handed over a delicate spatial pouch, smiling obsequiously without a word.

The general responsible for registration accepted it, smiled knowingly, nodded with satisfaction, and swiftly recorded their names. He reminded them, “Once inside, there will be a group battle. Only the victors may advance to the second round. Be careful not to exhaust yourselves. As your senior, I wish you all to become true students.”

“Thank you.” The ten warriors from Rainbow Moon City responded politely, crossed the threshold with ease, and entered the outer court of Butterfly Academy.

“Next.”

…

“Sky Light City.” Duguy Bieli stepped forward and spoke awkwardly. The general waited, noting the newcomers’ lack of tact, and his expression soured. He frowned, “Go wait to the side.”

“Huh? Why?” Duguy Bieli was baffled. “Aren’t we supposed to register and go in?”

“Are you truly ignorant, or are you here to mock me?” The general glared, spat in disgust, and sneered, “Country bumpkin, never seen the world, no sense of rules, and still expect to enter? Dream on… Oh, well, look here, what a lovely little beauty. Is she with you?”

His glance caught the younger sister, whose sweet appearance, fair skin, large dark eyes, and delicate figure resembled a blossoming flower, her innocent gaze clear as water. Instantly, his eyes gleamed with predatory light. Licking his lips, he teased, “Come, give big brother a kiss, and I’ll register you…”

“Courting death!”

Everyone has a bottom line that cannot be violated.

Duguy Bieli could tolerate many things, but never any affront to the Duguy sisters. He reached out with a powerful hand, aiming straight for the general’s throat. The general scoffed, his fist darting out like a venomous snake, mocking, “Little warrior, overestimating yourself… ah…”

Upon contact, the general felt a surge of force, not only stronger but more refined than his own. The impact sent pain through his arm bones, made him stagger several steps back, and left his arm limp and numb.

“Boss, troublemaker here!” The general’s expression shifted repeatedly; he dared not step forward but shouted loudly. The figure beside him, seemingly their leader, ignored the incident entirely, continuing to smile and register others, which was rather odd.

“Who is it? Tired of living?” A thunderous roar split the crowd, revealing a towering, burly man nearly eight feet tall, radiating an intimidating presence. As he strode forward, the earth trembled beneath his feet. “Where is he? Who?”

“Thunderstorm Boss, it’s him!” The injured general pointed with his good arm straight at Duguy Bieli, his gaze as fierce as a wolf’s.

Thunderstorm grinned, twisting his neck, bones crackling like thunder. “Kid, you’re about to learn a lesson you’ll never forget. Remember, sometimes, some people are not to be trifled with.”

“Step aside.” Duguy Bieli motioned to Wolf and Little Flower to take the sisters back, his mind settling, power gathering. In his previous life, he had always fought against the strong; now, his pride remained, fear unknown.

Blood surged. Thunderstorm’s roar echoed as five wells of power within him erupted, rumbling like war drums, playing a general’s march.

A general!

Thunderstorm.

This flow of power signified the unique trait of generals. To be a general was to have opened five wells of strength, comprehended the essence of power, able to concentrate it and unleash it perfectly. A general’s might is ten times that of a soldier, twice as strong as a warrior.

These seasoned students were Butterfly Academy’s second-level disciples, the general rank. When generals attack, their five wells of power resonate with the force, creating a music-like rhythm, hence the comparison to a general’s command drum. Thunderstorm was clearly among the elite, his vigorous blood further enhancing his strength.

“You make the first move. Once I strike, you’ll have no chance,” Thunderstorm said arrogantly.

“Then I’ll strike first,” Duguy Bieli replied coldly, eyes blazing. “When I attack, you’ll have no opportunity either.”

Boom!

Power surged from his wells like a raging torrent, propelling his body. With a forceful stomp, Duguy Bieli launched himself upward, fist swinging like a hammer, his battle prowess unleashed. In that instant, his aura reached its peak, as if leading a charge of thousands, banners flying, rivers of blood in their wake.

“He’s a warrior, but his aura is impressive…” Thunderstorm, known for his strength and formidable defense, barely registered the oppressive momentum, focusing instead on Duguy Bieli’s technique. Seeing he was merely a warrior, Thunderstorm grew less cautious, but by the time he felt threatened and tried to fortify himself, it was too late.

Bang!

The fist struck directly at his chest.

With a loud impact, Thunderstorm’s face flushed, his blood surging, organs tumbling in rebellion. Unable to hold back, he spat a mouthful of hot blood.

The force lingered, sharp as needles.

The well of power in his chest contracted, nerves twitching uncontrollably. Thunderstorm’s towering frame trembled, vision flickering with stars.

Seizing the moment, Duguy Bieli leapt up, leg sweeping sideways like a tiger’s tail.

Smack!

The blow landed squarely on Thunderstorm’s head.

His massive, robust body crumpled helplessly, toppling like a golden mountain, crashing into the dust, half dead and semi-conscious.