Eric Johnson let out a loud laugh toward the assembled martial students.

He held his longsword in hand, strode proudly into the assessment area ahead, cupped his hands in salute to the five chief and assistant examiners, and said with high spirits, “Student of Nancheng Martial Academy, Eric Johnson, greets the examiners!”

The five examiners all nodded in satisfaction.

Eric Johnson was at the second level of martial cultivation, tall and sturdy, with upright bones and vigorous energy—a promising candidate for the martial arts department. His hands were covered in calluses, evidence of diligent practice, and it seemed his swordsmanship should be quite good as well.

Chief examiner Ethan Johnson even showed a kindly smile.

As a collateral disciple of the Zhao clan of Luyang Prefecture, how could he not recognize him?

He would have to give him a few extra points later.

After a brief self-introduction, Eric Johnson first chopped a six-inch-thick hardwood stake in half with one hand, then began to demonstrate his martial skills.

“Intermediate sword technique: ‘Thirteen Slanting Moon Swords’!”

Eric Johnson took his stance, shouted, and his entire aura changed dramatically—he became like a drawn sword, exuding a sharp and intimidating presence.

The young martial students around him were startled, all feeling a chill from the sword’s edge and stepping back a few paces to avoid being hurt by the sharpness.

“First move: Flood Dragon Gazes at the Moon!”

Eric Johnson gripped the sword hilt with both hands and suddenly flicked the tip upward.

With a thrust, the move resembled a flood dragon emerging from the water, raising its head to gaze at the moon in the sky.

A cold glint flashed at the sword tip, the sharpness almost bursting forth from the blade.

“Hmm, not bad!”

Many examiners exchanged glances and nodded in praise.

This move of Eric Johnson’s had been cultivated to a fiery and pure state—quite impressive.

“Great swordsmanship, Eric!”

“This intermediate sword technique is truly powerful—not only full of fighting spirit, but every move is cunning and fierce, completely catching the enemy off guard.”

“Eric Johnson really lives up to being from the Zhao family of Luyang Prefecture—even as a collateral branch, he can’t be underestimated!”

Dozens of young martial students around witnessed this scene, exclaiming in amazement and showing envy.

At a junior martial academy, most young students could only learn basic and elementary martial skills.

Only a very few from powerful clans could afford to buy intermediate or advanced martial skill runes and learn higher-level techniques.

In terms of power, intermediate martial skills naturally far surpassed elementary and basic ones.

Hearing the exclamations and envy around him, Eric Johnson was greatly encouraged and his spirits soared. Among the youths, his strength was quite outstanding—there was no need for self-doubt.

A series of exquisite sword moves flowed like water, dazzling and incomparably sharp.

This set of sword techniques attracted even more attention from the surrounding martial students, all watching the swordplay intently.

When he reached the seventh move, “Cold Star Chases the Moon,” Eric Johnson had pushed his strength to the absolute limit. He thrust with all his might, but couldn’t stop the momentum—the sword nearly flew from his hand.

Many martial students in Eric Johnson’s class were secretly shocked at this scene. It seemed William Harris was right—Eric Johnson’s swordsmanship did have some issues.

“What a pity!”

Chief examiner Ethan Johnson sighed and shook his head quietly.

Eric Johnson, a bit flushed and out of breath, sheathed his sword and calmed the nearly boiling energy within him, then stopped.

The examiners conferred in low voices for a moment and gave their scores: “Nancheng Martial Academy’s Eric Johnson, scores as follows: cultivation—200 points, sword technique—69 points. Total score for the martial arts department assessment: 269 points!”

“Eric, you’re amazing!”

“Congratulations, Eric! With swordsmanship like that, getting into the martial arts department of the prefectural academy will be a breeze!”

“A martial skill score as high as 69! If I could get 60, I’d be thanking the heavens.”

Some of the martial students around erupted in cheers, visibly excited, applauding and shouting their approval.

The rules for the martial arts department assessment at Luyang Prefecture Academy were simple: total score equals cultivation score plus martial skill score.

To judge a martial artist’s cultivation, they simply looked at how they split the wooden stake.

At the first level, a martial artist had about 100 jin of strength and could split a three-inch-thick hardwood stake with one hand. At the second level, about 200 jin, able to split a six-inch stake with one hand… and so on. At the ninth level, up to a terrifying 900 jin of strength, able to split a twenty-seven-inch-thick stake with one hand—enough force to kill a fierce tiger or wild bull.

First-level cultivation was worth 100 points, with each additional level adding 100 points.

Eric Johnson had 200 jin of strength, reaching the second level, so he received 200 points.

Scoring for martial skill moves was more complex, mainly based on the level of mastery, divided into ten stages.

Any number of martial skills could be used, and the scores could be added together.

But each skill had to reach at least the sixth stage—over 60 points—to count toward the total martial skill score.

It was extremely difficult to score over 60 in any martial skill.

Most candidates could only master one skill.

A few geniuses could master two at once. How to maximize the score was up to the candidate to weigh the pros and cons.

Eric Johnson’s 69 points in sword technique was by no means low.

“Thank you, examiners!”

Eric Johnson’s face was rosy, his mind clear and refreshed.

He was quite satisfied with this score.