Yuan Ming could not understand why the cult was going through such trouble to prepare for a mere test.
If it had been a trap as he had feared in the start, there was no need for them to keep everyone alive for so long.
The elders of the demonic cult had shown that they could kill them or make them a puppet whenever they wished to, so unless this was a real test, all the trouble did not make sense.
The weights were attached to the participants one by one.
Heavy shackles clamped around wrists and ankles, each one inscribed with formations that pulsed with a dull red light.
The moment they locked into place, Yuan Ming saw several people stumble, barely able to support themselves under the sudden burden.
When the junior disciples reached him, Yuan Ming didn't resist.
He stood still as they fastened the weights to his limbs—two around each wrist, two around each ankle. Each one felt like it weighed at least fifty jin.
