All eyes were on the T-800. Its height and muscle mass were far greater than anyone else present. The recruiters on the stage looked at each other. They saw a valuable asset.
Their Penance Brand on their forearm started to itch.
"A Northern Barbarian," one of them whispered. "Look at the size of him."
The main recruiter stepped forward. He looked at the T-800's face, then his eyes moved to its right shoulder. He saw the brand. It was dark, darker than his own.
"That is a 20 stroke Penance Mark," the recruiter said. He sounded impressed.
The crowd started whispering again. The T-800's audio sensors picked up every word.
"...20 stroke?... how many people has he killed? 20?"
"...look where it is! On his shoulder! The Mark always appears on the right forearm first..."
"...he must have tried to cut it off. The Mark just moved. This man is defiant. He fights his penance..."
"...a man that strong, that defiant, and who has killed that many... Is he not afraid of the curse?..."
"...this all suggests that he is new…"
The T-800's processor analyzed every new piece of information.
"What is your name?" the recruiter asked.
The T-800's neural net scanned its newly acquired language database. It had recorded dozens of names from the crowd. It selected two common syllables and combined them into a plausible designation.
"Tie…," T-800 voice flat and emotionless, almost sounded like defiant. "...Yuan."
The recruiter smiled faintly. "Tie Yuan? Huh?"
He looked at his other recruiters, they also smiled faintly.
T-800 analyzed their expressions and quickly understood his lie got caught. They do not believe Tie Yuan is his name.
"We all have our secrets…Tie Yuan it is." They noted down his name as Tie Yuan in their records.
The Penance Mark was a measure on its own in this Heaven-Forsaken Realm. Killing another person who had a mark darkens your own mark. Each kill added one stroke of darkness, a permanent record of the act.
The darkness was measured in strokes, with each stroke representing one murdered individual but that too if you have murdered a person with one stroke Penance Mark.
"Can I ask, how many you have killed so far?"
T-800 evaluated that question and decided to answer.
"Seven."
20 strokes from Seven kills. If you kill 5 or more stroked Penance Mark bearers, that will gain you 5 strokes or more in one kill.
The crowd murmured hard, some shock, some finally had an answer.
The recruiter's own mark on his forearm was a faint five-stroke mark. The pressure from the T-800's twenty-stroke mark felt heavy to him. It made his own mark itch uncomfortably and made him uneasy.
The mark always appeared on the right forearm of a new arrival. Its presence on the shoulder had only one logical explanation.
This man, this 'Tie Yuan,' had tried to cut the brand from his body. The mark was a type of unbreakable curse, a penance that could not be escaped using physical methods.
Such an act by Tie Yuan shows extreme defiance.
The recruiter pointed at the Strength Stone. "That test is for laborers and weaklings," he said, his voice now respectful. "For a man with your mark, the test is different. Break it."
T-800 wanted to confirm what this recruiter meant.
"Embrace and break it."
The instructions were clear now.
He moved and stood in front of the stone. Before he could bend down and hug the stone, his gaze noticed the earlier boy in the corner looking at him with awe and fear.
He ignored the boy and bent down and hugged the stone, easily lifting it up at his chest. He turned towards the crowd as he came to the center of the stage.
It was a normal looking granite stone but a faint signature of the energy which enhanced his functions are radiating from this stone.
Without any more delay, he hugged tighter, squeezing it with pressure.
His mechanical pistons, joints and actuators started whirring loudly enough for everyone to hear.
Everyone is fascinating confusion what on what or who or what could be this sound can or could be.
The sound was out of this world for everyone.
"...Are his bones made of Iron?..."
"...No wonder his name is Tie Yuan…"
It was the mechanical noise of servomotors and high-pressure hydraulics reaching their limits.
But not yet.
CRACK!
The stone which looked like would withstand it but it cracked.
T-800 immediately stopped and loosen his hug. The broken part fell on the stage with a loud bang. He tossed the other other part and turned to look at the recruiter.
All of their faces were in shock.
"Ahem…only a Foundation Realm 9th stage could achieve this feat." He announced and the crowd gave a loud reaction of understanding. Other recruiters who were noting down everything quickly noted down this information too.
The T-800's neural processor logged the new terms. Foundation Realm. 9th stage. It cross-referenced the crowd's reactions and the recruiter's statement with its existing data. The new information formed a coherent framework.
He now has more questions than answers.
He didn't ask away those questions immediately. He knows the do's and don'ts of infiltration.
"We would be honored to have such an expert join the Shadow Wolf Sect." The recruiter's voice was full of genuine respect now.
He bowed his head slightly, a gesture of acknowledging a superior power. "However…" but his tone slightly changed. "...why do you want to join us?"
The recruiter straightened his back, his expression turned guarded as if saying 'Its not that easy'. The guards around the gate formed a perimeter and pointed their spears at T-800.
This was not a test of strength anymore, but a test of allegiance. In the Boundless Seal Realm, a lawless prison filled with murderers, power was less important than loyalty. A powerful unknown was a greater threat than a weak enemy.
Every major faction, including the Shadow Wolf Sect, had been infiltrated or destroyed from within at some point in its history. Accepting a newcomer with a twenty-stroke mark without verifying his intentions was equivalent to handing a dagger to a potential assassin.