Has he fallen on the ground out of fear or was he hit off the stool by somebody else?

Being disorientated, one could hit somebody off the stool in panic. After all, they were not very spread out. To sit still on the stool until the end required a little bit of luck too.

Good did not know whether to celebrate or be disappointed—of course, the fewer compet.i.tors, the better chance he could win, but he had to take the following tests without Sanko. Before he could think more about it, he was taken to an adjacent compartment.

The s.p.a.ce for the second test was not big either. Again, 10 chairs were put in the center of the room, yet their arrangement was different.

They were arranged in a circle and were combined together with an iron ring. Under the iron ring, there was a support to enable the ring to rotate freely.

"Sit according to your arrangement." The tester said coldly. "The rules for the second test are the same as the first one. Sit steadily, stick to the end."

n.o.body dared to call it "simple" this time.

Everybody climbed carefully onto the iron ring and sat on their chair in accordance with the arrangement.

As the officer ordered to begin, the two guards came forward, grabbed the handles behind the chairs, and pushed to rotate the iron ring—as Good had expected, the chairs began to rotate.

At first, the testees did not respond much. With the acceleration of the rotation, they began to feel discomfort.

Yet, the soldiers did not intend to stop. Under the order of the presiding officer, they exerted more effort at pus.h.i.+ng the ring. Immediately, the tent was filled with the creaking sounds of the chairs. Good's vision became more and more blurry.

The sky and earth are spinning round!

That was the only sensation left in his head.

Good has not fully recovered from the influence brought by the first phantom; the intense dizziness brought by the second phantom heavily turned his stomach, which almost drove the acid water to his tongue.

What kind of test is this? Is the army recruiting monsters?

Good clenched his teeth and tried to look at those soldiers as a diversion, but he found that the soldiers were looking up at the roof of the tent to avoid directly looking at the iron ring while their hands were only repeating the simple pus.h.i.+ng move, not being affected by the rotation at all.

This, this isn't fair!

Good cried silently. The officer only told them to stick to the end, yet he did not tell them when the end was. "What if the rotation lasts for an hour? I will probably pa.s.s out in this chair!"

His attempt to focus his eyesight aggravated his dizziness. Not being able to hold the acid water in his stomach any longer, Good gushed it out!

"Ou———!"

The sour stench suddenly rushed into his nostrils.

Like a chain reaction, his vomiting led to the others vomiting too. Immediately, the smell in the tent became extremely horrible. Some flying fluid and half-digested food even stuck on Good's face.

"I, I can't take it anymore!"

"Stop, stop it! Ou—I'm done!"

Good finally understood why they had heard the vomiting sounds outside the tent.

This is too harsh. More importantly, what's the point of this test? Is this really a recruitment for the army, other than a hoax to torture us on purpose?

Every second was a torture. Good felt like giving up at any moment, yet he did not loosen up his grab on the back of the chair until the iron ring stopped rotating.

Three testees were left.

The officer showed a rare expression of praise. "Well done. Now you're one step closer to being qualified. Rest for five minutes. From the second test on, the test difficulty will decrease. Just treat them seriously and you'll be fine."

However, at that moment, the testees stopped trusting the tester. They were prepared for any eventualities. Casually wiping their faces with sleeves, they solemnly walked into the next compartment.

To his surprise, Good found the officer had not lied.

The third test required the testees to go into a hollow ring and roll to the other end of the tent on all fours.

n.o.body was weeded out.

The fourth test required them to browse a set of weird pictures filled with lumps of similar colors and point out the hidden animal patterns.

Again, everybody pa.s.sed.

Yet the doubt in Good's heart grew stronger and stronger.

The fifth test required a nude check-up. The sixth test required them to point out the directions of the arrows on a luminous gla.s.s.

Although everybody performed differently, the result came out fine.

While Good and another two testees were waiting for the following test, the officer took them out of the tent. Good found another smaller tent to the back door of the big tent. Black-uniformed guards closely surrounded that area. It seems that somebody important is inside.

"Sir, are we...?" someone could not help asking.

The officer smiled. "Forgot to congratulate you. The tests are over. You've all pa.s.sed the preliminary filter. Just wait here. You'll be received later."

"Is this only the preliminary filter? About the treatment mention on the notice—" Good suddenly stopped in the middle of his questioning. "d.a.m.n it. Thearmy would certainly not welcome those who came for the treatment, much like those knights who keep on mentioning honors. Since I asked about the treatment so hurriedly, the officer will most likely take me as a greedy person."

Despite that, the officer did not show any sign of dissatisfaction. Instead, he carefully looked at Good and asked, "Are you in serious need of money?"

"I..."

"It's nothing. After all, the high treatment of the First Army is well-known in Neverwinter. Actually, that was also my original intention of joining the army." The officer shrugged and said," The answer is yes. The education subsidies, living allowances, and payment mentioned on the notice will all be realized in full. The following tests are to decide how far you can go, other than offer excuses to cut your welfares. As I said, in order to become a real soldier, you still have much more to learn."

Good was instantly overwhelmed by a huge sense of happiness. "Am, am I chosen, with a payment more than that of uncle Bucky, subsidies enough to support Rachel and me? All of that has become true?" Immediately, he felt what he suffered inside the tent was nothing. While thinking back, he even tasted a hint of sweetness.

"Thank, thank you Sir—" Good hurriedly bowed with excitement. "I'll do my best to join the First Army as soon as possible."

The other two testees were also very excited and bowed following Good's example.

"But there is one thing I want to tell you. Indeed, a lot of people join the army for the high treatment, yet what made them stay isn't the pay." The officer smiled carelessly. "In the army, there are things much more worth pursuing. One day, you'll find that what you pursued in the beginning wouldn't even be worth mentioning in comparison." He paused slightly as if thinking of something worth remembering. "Alright, there are still many waiting to be tested. See you another time."

It turns out that the other party is not an indifferent, silent and ruthless person.

Good was a little startled. "Sir, since we've pa.s.sed the tests, may we know your name now?"

"I'm Van'er."

Then the officer went back to the big tent.

Afterward, other qualified testees were gradually coming out of the big tent and joining Good in the queue.

The recruitment had not come to an end until the late afternoon.

After calculating, Good found that 16 "preliminary soldiers" were filtered on the first day.

The guards came over, sandwiched them in the middle and escorted them to the last tent.

The furnis.h.i.+ng inside was quite simple—there was nothing except for a long desk. Good found that the guards appeared very nervous and that the other testees beside him were breathing heavily.

"Oh? Are those the knight candidates they selected?" A tall man standing beside the desk looked at them up and down with a keen interest, as his eyes showed that he meant to survey the testees.

Good was startled. What did he say? Knights?

Could it be that what the First Army recruited are knights?

How can this be possible?

That's a t.i.tle only the descendants of the n.o.bles could have.

With my status, I can't even be chosen as a squire!

"Air knights? I'm sure it's a t.i.tle my elder brother came up with." A euphonic female voice sounded. "They're far from getting there. Take it easy. Right, all of you go to the sides and leave the central s.p.a.ce empty for them."

"But..." the leading guard said hesitantly.

"It's alright. Someone behind me is protecting me."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Your...Highness?

Before he could figure out what was happening, Good saw the people in front of him moving away and a girl with astonis.h.i.+ngly beautiful appearance showed. Her eyes were as bright as gemstones and her face was even more innocent than white snow. Anyone who laid their eyes on her would not forget her. If possible, Good wished he could just gaze at her from then on.

Still, he forced himself to look away and bow down respectfully.

Her beautiful long gray hair indicated her ident.i.ty.

Even as a new immigrant, Good knew what that hair color stood for.

It was the symbol of the Graycastle royal family.

In Neverwinter, there was only one girl who was of this descent.

She was His Majesty Roland's sister, Tilly Wimbledon.

"Respects to Your Highness!"

Everybody knelt down orderly.