For a moment, the entire empire was running at high speed like a sophisticated machine.
Martin intends to spread the news of the selection of Dragon Knight candidates throughout the continent, and once the news of the 300 places is announced.
It immediately caused a huge uproar - those who passed the assessment could become dragon knights. This glory and power was enough to drive anyone crazy.
Loyalty colleges all over the country instantly became the focus, and the once solemn campuses were crowded with people and bustling with activity.
Many noble children and even descendants of former royal families were tempted.
They used their connections and looked for ways everywhere, and some even visited college teachers with rare medicinal herbs.
Some people brought gold, silver and jewelry to meet with the vice president, just to get their children a candidate qualification.
However, everyone knows that the final decision lies firmly in the hands of the deans of each college.
There are more than 3,000 loyal colleges in the country, but there are only 300 places available. On average, only one person can be admitted from every ten colleges. It is truly a one in ten thousand chance.
Those who gave gifts were not discouraged even though they were rejected. After all, everyone knew that once they were selected, it meant they had entered the empire's top combat power sequence and their future was limitless.
In the square of Zhongcheng College, the bulletin board was crowded with young people who came to check the assessment standards, their eyes sparkling with longing and determination.
The deans closed the doors and began to look through the piles of files - they knew better than anyone that these 300 places would be the cornerstone of the empire's future and would not tolerate any favoritism.
In the square, a young man in washed-out coarse clothes stood on tiptoe, looking at the bulletin board, his knuckles turning white from the strain.
A little girl with pigtails followed behind him and tugged at his clothes: "Brother, let's go back. I heard that the children of noble families have hired high-level tutors."
The young man didn't turn around, his Adam's apple rolling twice: "Look, sister, the assessment criteria don't mention family background."
In his palm he held a smooth wooden plaque with the crooked word "live" engraved on it - it was left to him by his father before he died.
At the same time, carriages from the noble area stopped one after another at the side gate of the college.
The lady in a gorgeous silk gown was pressing a brocade box into the Dean's hands. Her voice was very low, "Although the puppy is dull, our family has prepared a full set of dragon saddles for him. Please be lenient with me..."
Before she could finish her words, she was interrupted by the director coldly: "Madam, the dean said that the qualification for Dragon Knight candidates is based on the courage in the blood, not the gold in the brocade box."
The afternoon sun shone through the clouds, illuminating the small words at the bottom of the notice board: "Anyone who is sixteen years old or older and can independently kill a bronze monster may enter the preliminary examination."
The young man touched the rusty sword at his waist, then suddenly turned around and smiled at the little girl: "Sister, I'll go and try."
In the trial field deep in the academy, the dean looked at the first batch of applicants.
Led by the knight, he slowly walked in. The vice-president beside him stroked his beard and said, "President, do you really want to let these commoners compete with the nobles?"
The dean looked at the eager figure below, his fingertips swiping across the floating projection screen: "When it comes to dragon knight armor, we never look at the family crest on the back, but only at the scars on the chest."
Just as he finished speaking, a beam of light suddenly lit up in the center of the trial field, and a figure fell out from the light.
It was actually the young man in coarse clothes from before - he was holding a bleeding monster crystal core in his hand, his face was also stained with blood, but his smile was brighter than the sun.
Such scenes are played out in various loyal colleges, some testing strength, some wisdom, some courage, and some unity.
As a result, the number of deaths in the Loyalty Academy increased significantly, but no one dropped out. Instead, more people poured in.
The candlelight in the throne room of Yulong City flickered, illuminating Martin's gloomy face.
The pile of memorials on the desk almost covered the gilded candlesticks and the silk-covered books.
It was filled with either flattering or eager handwriting from ministers - some said that their youngest son was "born with supernatural powers and could be cultivated", and some mentioned that "the little daughter was smart and beautiful".
The words "preferential treatment" and "exceptional" cannot be avoided between the lines.
Martin picked up the top volume, the cover of which was embossed with the Earl's coat of arms, and inside it was a portrait of a girl, which he casually swept to the ground.
"A bunch of rubbish."
He cursed softly, his voice was not loud, but it made the maid standing beside him tremble all over.
These people only know how to curry favor with others, and actually regard the selection of dragon knights as a shortcut to personal gain.
"Pass on my order." Martin stood up suddenly, and his black court robe with dragon pattern swept across the table, sweeping away all the memorials that wanted to be submitted through the back door.
"All petitions concerning 'favorable treatment' are rejected. Tell those ministers that dragon knights' armor only recognizes marks etched in blood and bone, not family crests. Anyone who dares to show partiality again, don't blame me for being ruthless."
Martin's order was executed on the same day, and the ministers and nobles also understood the temper of His Majesty.
Naturally, they dared not offend His Majesty again. It seemed that they could only rely on their strength. Those noble young men did not believe that they could not defeat those peasants.
The glass lamps at Cullen Manor reflected the afternoon light. Martin looked at his brother sitting opposite him, his brows furrowed.
Ever since he was hurriedly called over, he couldn't guess what trouble this prince was going to cause.
The Karen in my memory, who was steady enough to hold up half the country, seemed to have been bloated by the smell of alcohol and playfulness.
"Your Majesty," Karen said nonchalantly, shaking the amber wine in his glass, "Give me a spot as a dragon knight candidate."
Martin's knuckles bruised from pinching the armrest. He slowly raised his eyes, his voice as cold as ice: "Prince Cullen, do you know what the dragon knights carry on their shoulders? The empire's defense line, the lives of millions."
Karen shrugged, twirling the ring nonchalantly. "I'm not the one who wants to be one. I'm my wife's cousin. We had a little falling out a while ago, and I wanted to make it up to her."
"Compensation?" Martin stood up suddenly, and the sword at his waist made a slight sound with his movement.
"The empire's iron wall, is that something you use to fool people?"
His eyes roamed over Karen's well-kept hands—hands that had once held a sword but now held only a wine glass.
"You want gold and silver, fiefdoms, or even to travel like Wayne and the others, I can turn a blind eye. But the Dragon Knight position cannot be affected by any personal feelings!"
The sunlight filtered through the stained glass, casting mottled shadows on Martin's robe.
He stared at Karen and spoke each word with clarity. "Since we're from the same clan, I'll pretend I didn't hear anything this time. If you dare to use the nation's most valuable weapon as a favor again, go to the secret realm and accompany Beilin. You know I'm not kidding."
After he finished speaking, Martin turned and left, leaving Karen, who was stunned and angry, holding the wine glass at a loss.
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