"Apprentice Number Two, what's your name?"
Tanya-rao inquired with interest.
"Alan Panthers."
"Your hound gait is quite proficient. Good performance."
Tanya-rao handed the black belt back to Alan.
"What's even more remarkable is that after losing your belt, you reacted quickly and stopped running."
"Previous candidates often ran a long way before realizing they had lost their belt."
"From that perspective, even though you failed on your first attempt, I'm confident you can pass."
"How about taking a break and trying again?"
Tanya-rao offered a gentle suggestion.
Alan heard her unspoken message.
The difference in their abilities was clear.
If they failed the first time, what would they rely on to pass the second time?
Tanya's implication was that he was going to give him some slack.
The first time, they tested Allen's extreme reflexes and explosiveness.
He's a pretty good prospect.
The second time, there was no need to be so strict.
It's easy to get by for a minute by just closing your eyes.
Allen could tell from this detail.
Tanya's emotional intelligence, including his attention to detail in dealing with people, was far superior to that rough-and-tumble Tuffman.
Although both were slack, Tanya's approach left no room for the other candidates to find fault.
After a half-minute break on the sidelines, Allen launched his second challenge.
He employed the same tactics, stalling for half a minute.
He was still cornered by his senior sister. This time, however, Allen didn't follow the script.
Facing the relentlessly pressing Tanya, he drew three points of magic power and unleashed another form of movement.
His body swayed rapidly, his entire form blurring. "Is this... the Butterfly Dance?!" Tanya was slightly taken aback.
Allen seized this fleeting opportunity and charged forward! Tanya reached out and grabbed, his fingertips piercing through Allen's remnant, only to miss! He quickly turned and gave chase.
Alan didn't need to look back.
The sound of footsteps beside him indicated that the distance between him and Tanya was rapidly closing!
The two of them, one chasing, the other fleeing.
Just an arm's length away.
Alan added a "hound walk" to his "butterfly dance"!
Leaving a trail of afterimages, he suddenly changed direction!
Narrowly dodging Tanya's hawk-like swoop!
Time ticked by.
The coaching assistant had already begun counting down from the sidelines.
All the students, including Tufman, watched in fascination from the sidelines.
He alternated between two different body movements, constantly navigating the edge of a knife's edge.
Although this wasn't quite Allen's ultimate, he still had a hidden "stray step" trick up his sleeve.
But his performance was already impressive enough, excellent enough!
Tanya could have gone even faster, tried to catch Allen before the timer expired.
But that would have been pointless.
She hadn't forgotten her role as examiner.
So she maintained her current pace, hanging on Allen's heels at a moderate pace, accompanying him through the final ten seconds.
Before Allen left the stage, Tanya came over to shake his hand as a token of encouragement.
"Alan Panthers, you did well in the first two rounds."
"Even if you don't make it to the third round, you'll still be able to stay at the martial arts school and receive intensive training."
"So from now on, you can call me Senior Sister."
"Keep up the good work, Junior Brother Allen. Good luck!"
"Thank you, Senior Sister. I'll keep working hard!"
The other candidates were envious of Senior Sister's favor.
Alan, however, felt even greater pressure.
Tanya's words were meant to be taken seriously.
"Even if you don't make it to the third round, you'll still be able to stay"...
Isn't that a preemptive measure?
The implication was that the third round was going to be difficult!
Extremely difficult! Becoming PanSen's personal disciple isn't easy.
Even Allen, who consistently ranked first in the first two levels, had little hope of passing the third.
That's why Tanya comforted him in advance.
Keep a calm mind and don't be too concerned about gains and losses.
Alan was grateful for her kindness, but also deeply curious.
What would the third level be like?
How difficult would it be?
The answers to these questions wouldn't take long.
The candidates after Allen were all persuaded to withdraw by Tanya.
In the end, only two barely made it through.
Including Allen, there were three candidates waiting to take the third level.
The first round tested strength.
The second round tested agility.
So the third round, logically, should have tested mental fortitude.
The question was, how would it be conducted?
It wouldn't be a grueling or arduous task...
Would the examinees be required to rely on their willpower to resist hypnotic magic?
The three examinees who had reached this round, including Allen, had many guesses in their minds.
They were all wrong.
The seniors brought in desks, chairs, ink, and paper.
Pantheon, wearing a long robe and black-framed glasses, with a small blackboard tucked under his arm, strolled into the examination room.
This Level 3 Violent Warlock was clearly a tall, muscular man.
His dress and demeanor, however, deliberately projected the refined elegance of an intellectual, giving off a rather...contrastingly cute impression.
Alan couldn't help but chuckle inwardly as he watched the incongruous style of Instructor PanSen.
The final exam.
PanSen personally presided over the exam, presenting two questions.
The time limit was 30 minutes.
To pass, you had to answer both questions correctly.
Alan took the exam paper from Tanya-chen.
First, review the questions.
After reading the questions, he barely managed to suppress his laughter.
He lowered his head, glancing around.
The other two candidates, as expected, wore stunned, shocked expressions.
Allen tried to control his facial expression, furrowing his brows in thought.
Who could have imagined?
The entrance exam for a violent warlock, at the final stage... would actually test academics?!
Pantheon posed two questions.
Frankly, neither was difficult.
The first question: Solve a quadratic equation.
The second question: Recite a poem on the spot.
But then again...
A violent warlock apprentice focuses primarily on physical training, and few even consider cultural cultivation.
Asking these simple-minded, muscular teenagers to solve equations and compose poetry was truly a bit of a stretch.
The other two candidates looked rather underwhelmed in math.
They stared at the equation on the test paper, scratching their heads, unsure where to begin.
Alan slowly solved the equation and put down his goose feather brush.
PanSen came over to look at his answer sheet.
He nodded slightly, a look of approval on his face.
Next, they could recite someone else's poem or compose their own on the spot.
Of course, random doggerel and rhymes wouldn't pass.
This test focused on literary accomplishment.
Even if they couldn't write poetry, at least they could distinguish good from bad, demonstrating a certain level of aesthetic taste and appreciation.
Allen didn't have the talent to compose a poem in seven steps.
He could only copy others' works.
Fortunately, he had spent some time as a young literary scholar in his previous life.
He couldn't write poetry, but at least he had read a fair amount, so he still had some ideas in his head.
After a moment's thought, Allen came up with a very impressive poem.
He recited it immediately:
…
My flags are lined up in a row,
Uninterrupted,
My voices are lined up in a row.
I am gathering the flowers, mobilizing the pines and cypresses,
Spreading the sky into a canopy.
I love, I live,
I was born in words.
Under the morning banner
Calling butterflies, nurturing fruit;
I and the raindrops
In the clouds and their chimes,
Spending the night on the ocean.
I give orders to the stars, I anchor and gaze,
I enthronize myself,
Become king of the wind!