Chapter Twenty-Two: Academy of Martial Arts and Strategy

Time passed little by little, and the entire camp was steeped in an atmosphere of sorrow. Other trainees were gradually making their way back as well. Most bore some injuries, but there were no more cases of broken arms or legs. Zhou Yiyi and Jiang Chao, who had once crossed paths with Yang Fan, also returned; both had completed their tasks.

Upon seeing Yang Fan, Zhou Yiyi immediately burst into tears, crying so much that Yang Fan could only feel helpless.

When forty-eight hours had passed, there were already more than 1,900 people gathered at the camp. At that moment, the accompanying instructors started heading into the mountains.

An hour later, the instructors returned with about two hundred more students.

Afterward, everyone boarded the ships and departed.

Yang Fan turned to look back at the island, growing smaller in the distance. He knew that his path of cultivation was truly beginning here.

...

By the time they returned to the academy, it was already noon. All the new students, disheveled and weary, stood beneath a high platform. On the platform, Zhou Haifeng spoke once more.

“Welcome back. I know that most of you suffered injuries this time—some physical, some emotional. But I must tell you: this is cultivation. Today, you faced mindless beasts; perhaps tomorrow, you will face even more terrifying foes, stronger and more cunning than you. So if you do not wish to end up like the beasts you defeated, you must train hard and strive to grow stronger.”

The crowd below was silent. Yang Fan had expected at least a few people to question Zhou Haifeng, but it seemed everyone had grown wiser this time—or at the very least, more aware.

The path of cultivation had always been one where countless fall for the rise of a few. No one’s journey was ever smooth and unchallenged; no one transcended without hardship.

Standing beside Yang Fan, tears still glimmering in her eyes, Zhou Yiyi—usually so headstrong and fearless—was visibly drained, body and soul.

“All right, next we will divide you into academies and assign your dormitories. The top three hundred students to return will enter the Martial Strategy Academy. The following six hundred will join the Command Academy, and the rest will enter the Crafting Academy.

“Of course, the top three hundred may also choose to join either of the other two academies. The same applies to those in the Command Academy, who may opt for the Crafting Academy.

“I want to make it clear that among the three major divisions of the Modu Cultivation Academy, there is no better or worse—only different responsibilities. Do not be discouraged.

“As for resources, as long as you are diligent and willing to fight for them, you will not be shortchanged.”

With these words, Zhou Haifeng stepped down from the platform, which then slowly sank back into the ground.

The new students began to disperse, heading toward their respective academies. Everyone already knew their rankings, as they had been tabulated on the ship. Those entering the Martial Strategy Academy were visibly elated, while those bound for the Crafting Academy wore troubled expressions. But as Zhou Haifeng had said, all three academies taught cultivation; the differences were not nearly as vast as they seemed, merely distinctions in focus and division of labor.

Blending into the crowd, Yang Fan and Zhou Yiyi made their way toward the Martial Strategy Academy.

The three academies were situated at different points within the Modu Cultivation Academy, with the Martial Strategy Academy at the far end. Yang Fan had always assumed the main lecture hall, close to the entrance, was where classes would be held. Reality, however, proved otherwise. That grand building was merely for show; aside from a few administrative offices, students rarely set foot there—and had no need to.

True instruction took place within the respective academies.

Passing along road after road, the three hundred students moved toward the Martial Strategy Academy.

A campus always seems to have the power to calm the soul: towering trees, smooth lawns, the occasional building coming into view.

As they walked, the restlessness in everyone’s hearts gradually subsided.

Before long, the Martial Strategy Academy came into sight. Consistent with the Modu Cultivation Academy’s ostentatious style, its buildings exuded extravagance. Yang Fan could only describe Modu Cultivation Academy’s architectural style as “opulent”—none of its structures were anything less than massive, none occupied a modest footprint. The entire academy was nearly the size of a university town.

Once inside, the instructors led Yang Fan and the others into the academic building and into a spacious classroom, where many people were already assembled—men and women, young and old.

After everyone was seated, a middle-aged man stepped forward and addressed them. “Welcome to the Martial Strategy Division of Modu Cultivation Academy. I am Zhang Weiguo, head of the Martial Strategy Academy. Most of you probably know me—my name is on the academy’s admissions roster.”

“Dean Zhang! The second strongest person in our academy, ranked eighth on the Ninth Grade Heavenly Ranking, the ‘Heaven-Shattering Spear’ Zhang Weiguo!”

“That’s right, a Ninth Grade Supreme Martial King. They say he’s always on the verge of breaking through to Tenth Grade Martial Emperor.”

The classroom erupted with excitement. Two days earlier, Principal Zhang Daoyi had appeared, but he was far away, standing atop the high platform. Now, Zhang Weiguo was right before their eyes.

Many had never seen a cultivator in their life, let alone one so powerful.

Yang Fan, too, was awestruck. Before he began cultivating, terms like “Ninth Grade” and “Tenth Grade” were mere ranks to ordinary people—nothing special. But with experience, he realized what these ranks truly represented: power and awe. They commanded respect, not just from their own kind, but from their enemies as well. The strong, wherever they went, were worthy of reverence.

“All right, quiet down. I have a few things to say,” Zhang Weiguo announced.

The three hundred students instantly fell silent.

“It is your honor to enter the Martial Strategy Division, and it is our honor as well. Your honor lies in becoming students of this division; our honor lies in having the opportunity to teach future greats.

“Students, the world is not as peaceful as you might imagine. There are many wars in this world—ordinary people simply aren’t aware of them. But now that you have entered the Martial Strategy Academy, you are no longer ordinary; you are cultivators. You must understand that the world needs guardians, and our nation needs to be protected.

“The details will become clear as you grow stronger. For now, we will divide you into classes of thirty—ten classes in total. This is merely a basic arrangement and means nothing permanent. In the future, the Martial Strategy Academy will hold regular competitions; through these, you will fight and grow.

“Each competition will be observed by instructors. Those who stand out or perform exceptionally may be chosen as a disciple and receive personal guidance, as well as greater resources.

“Now, we will proceed with class assignment. Afterward, your class instructor will teach you the fundamental cultivation techniques.

“That is all I have to say. Students, grow strong—the path of cultivation lies ahead. Warriors must strive! Warriors must prevail!”

With that, Zhang Weiguo turned and left the classroom without delay.

Yang Fan noticed that all these powerful figures seemed to have the same temperament: they spoke, then left, wasting not a moment.

Class assignments began—simple and straightforward: groups of thirty entered their respective classrooms.

Yang Fan’s group of thirty was led by an instructor into an adjacent classroom. There were no desks or chairs, only rows of meditation mats. At the front was a stack of books, which Yang Fan recognized as the basic cultivation manuals. Nothing else.

This, Yang Fan thought, was what a cultivation academy should be. Had there been rows of desks and chairs, it would have felt almost comical.

The instructor leading Yang Fan’s group said, “Please sit wherever you like.”

The thirty students quickly found their places. The classroom was spacious; the mats were arranged in two rows of fifteen each.

Once they were seated, the instructor spoke again. “My name is Feng Xiaolin, and I will be your cultivation mentor for the foreseeable future. If you have any questions about cultivation, you may come to me at any time.

“Remember this: no matter what the question, do not be afraid of embarrassment. Always seek guidance whenever you encounter a problem. In cultivation, there are no small matters—one misstep can lead to lifelong regret.”

Yang Fan had heard this advice from many: first from Zhou Ting, then from Zhou Haifeng after entering the academy, then from the old man beneath the Martial Strategy Tower, and now from Feng Xiaolin. Their words were all much the same.

Cultivation was never about blind, solitary training; it required communication. Asking questions was fundamental.

“Next, you will each receive a basic cultivation manual. Remember, even the most elementary techniques are not to be shared with outsiders—not even with your own family.

“This is not out of selfishness, but for the sake of order. If these techniques were to spread among ordinary people, society’s stability would be threatened.

“No one can predict how the hearts of ordinary people might change if they obtained the power to cultivate. Without guidance, who knows what they might do?

“Thus, you are forbidden to teach these techniques to anyone. Anyone found violating this will face severe legal consequences, regardless of who they are. Do not cross this line.”

Feng Xiaolin’s tone was severe as he handed out the cultivation manuals, one to each student—including Yang Fan.

“You have now received your manuals. Each student receives fifty basic credits per academic year. These can be exchanged for cultivation resources—elixirs, weapons—at the Resource Exchange Building, or martial techniques at the Martial Strategy Tower. If you are short on credits, you may undertake missions at the Task Building. The number of credits awarded depends on the task’s difficulty and completion. However, you must obtain your instructor’s approval before accepting any missions.

“I know you are all exhausted from the past few days. You may now go to your dormitories, which have been assigned according to your rankings. See Mentor Zhang Fengyi in the dormitory area to learn where you will be staying. The luggage you packed two days ago has already been delivered to your rooms. Class dismissed. Assemble here tomorrow at 10 a.m. sharp.”

With that, Feng Xiaolin ended the session, and the students rose to leave.

...

Two days of trials had cast a shadow over everyone’s hearts. Though much of it had faded, some still lingered, and would have to be dealt with in time. Their bodies and minds alike needed rest.

Upon entering the dormitory area, Yang Fan found Zhang Fengyi and inquired about his room.

“You did well—you’re in Dorm One,” Zhang Fengyi said with a smile.

“Dorm One again? But I wasn’t the first to complete the task,” Yang Fan replied in surprise. He recalled that many had already gathered by the shore when he returned.

“You weren’t the first among all students, but you were the first among those in the First Rank. The academy has its criteria—you deserve Dorm One,” Zhang Fengyi explained.

Yang Fan no longer dwelled on it; after all, it was a good thing. Abundant spiritual energy was a great help in cultivation.

He was on the verge of breaking through to Second Rank Martial Artist, and this was just what he needed.

He thanked Zhang Fengyi and walked off in the familiar direction.