Below Intermediate Level? You Have No Right to Be Here!

The road of cultivation had always been long, and it had always been tedious.

Many people grew sick of studying, finding it an unbearably dull affair. In truth, though, doing *anything* — even something you loved deeply — when repeated day after day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year without rest, would eventually breed the same weariness and resentment.

It wasn't that people hated learning itself. They simply couldn't rein in their wandering, pleasure-seeking hearts.

In this world, the deepest thing Mo Fan had come to understand was this: the path of magical cultivation was just as tedious as anything else. Once that initial thrill faded with the passing months and years, the only thing left to drive him — the only force that kept him from squandering even a minute of each day — was the relentless desire to grow stronger.

Even when time dragged like molasses, perseverance was the only answer.

Practicing Control was like setting down a chain of dominoes — guiding each individual Star Mote demanded the same absolute, breath-held focus.

Your mind could not waver by even a hair's breadth during the process. If it did, it didn't matter how carefully you had guided all the Star Motes before; every last one of them would collapse, toppled by that single tremor of distraction.

From linking them into a Star Trail, then tracing out the full pattern of a Star Chart — each act of Control demanded a hundred times, even a thousand times, more energy than placing dominoes. To make the Star Chart faster and more complete, daily practice was essential. Every single day.

If Star Motes still connected incorrectly in ordinary, undisturbed practice — if your concentration still flickered while attempting Control — then in a life-or-death battle, any hope of a flawless Release was nothing but a daydream.

"It pleases me greatly — because from the opening assembly to today, I have watched many of you grow."

"Not long ago, someone compared the Main Campus assessment to a demon looming over our entire Blue District — watching you from above, driving you on, compelling you to train yourselves to the bone ceaselessly…"

"That comparison was not wrong. Whether you've only heard rumors, whether you've witnessed it firsthand, however you've come to learn about the Main Campus — I can tell you with certainty: none of it is exaggeration. If anything, the reality is far more brutal."

"The Blue District is the last stop on the road of your youth. It is the calm, shallow pool you rest in before the torrents and waterfalls ahead. The next stop is the true journey of magic. Whatever grievances you suffer there, whatever injustices you endure, however much hardship you are forced to swallow — choke it down and keep it to yourself. No one will pity the weak."

At the all-school assembly, Dean Xiao — who had always regarded his students with a kind of paternal warmth — underwent a sudden and startling transformation.

His words left many of them deeply unsettled. The Dean Xiao they had come to love and respect now seemed to have become a coldly indifferent drill commander, one who could look past any suffering without blinking.

Was the competition at the Main Campus really that merciless? Was it truly a place where those with powerful backing and raw ability held sway over everything, while those without connections and without talent cowered forgotten in the corners?

"Every student who has not yet reached Intermediate-Level Mage is barred from the Main Campus assessment — without exception. You have exactly three years remaining in the Blue District. For those three years, you will still have access to every resource this school provides and every privilege that comes with being a student. But if three years pass and you have still not broken through to Intermediate-Level, then when you leave Pearl Academy, do not call yourself a Pearl Academy student."

Those words detonated in the minds of every freshman like a volley of thunderclaps.

Three years without a breakthrough, and you'd no longer be a Pearl Academy student??

Wasn't that just a little too ruthless??

"Those who have not reached Intermediate-Level Mage — you may leave. This battlefield is not yet yours." Dean Xiao said it as though he were a different person entirely, and the student body struggled to accept what they were hearing.

Today's Dean Xiao was no longer the teacher who had painted bright futures for everyone to look forward to.

He had become the very demon the students had always spoken of — driving the weak away without a shred of mercy.

"Haven't you understood yet? The weak are not worthy of being full members of Pearl Academy. What you need to do right now is make sure that next year, when I say these same words again, you can stand here with your head held high. Now go — go and work for that day."

In the dense, dark press of the crowd, resentment ran deep — but not a single person dared raise even a whisper of protest.

Gradually, the older students — those who had already spent time in the Blue District — began to move. They walked away with bitterness and wounded pride still etched across their faces.

The newer students, meanwhile, stood rooted to the spot, dazed.

Perhaps it was the first time any of them had been subjected to such naked discrimination based purely on strength. In any school they had known before, blatant bias like this — regardless of a student's level — would have been called out and condemned.

They watched the older students go. Finally, a few among them also took their first steps and chose to leave.

"Li Junhao, come on." One young man turned to his companion.

"Why should I?!" the student called Li Junhao shot back. "I'm this close to breaking through — why won't they even let us sit for the Main Campus assessment?!"

"Come on. Next year, we'll be the ones who stay."

"Damn it — *damn it* — **damn it!!!**"

"Honestly, these people." A young man with a carelessly lax air glanced around at the departing crowd. "What's there to be sad about? If you don't qualify, you don't qualify. The Blue District isn't so bad, is it? Guoguo, let's go — I know you're upset too. It's fine, I'll treat you to something good." He addressed this to his girlfriend.

"You go ahead," said the girl called Guoguo, standing perfectly still.

"What? There's no point in hanging around here. Everyone left is Intermediate-Level…" The carefree young man caught himself mid-sentence. He stared at his girlfriend, something shifting in his expression. "You… you broke through to Intermediate-Level??"

"Yes." Guoguo stayed exactly where she was, her face as cold as frost. "I've been meaning to tell you for a while. But every day you're off somewhere with those friends of yours, wasting your time. I think today we can finally have a conclusion."

She would be staying. He had to go.

The whole exchange reached Mo Fan's ears — he had been standing nearby.

He watched the carefree young man trudge off with the hollow look of someone whose world had just caved in, and couldn't help a quiet swell of feeling.

*It's not heartlessness on her part. When two people are chasing completely different things, what's the point in staying together?* Mo Fan actually found himself admiring the decisiveness of the girl called Guoguo.

*Though honestly — girls always fall for the wealthy ones, the handsome ones, the ones who know how to coax a smile out of them. What hope does that leave for the ordinary-looking guys who can only let their strength do the talking?*

*So many people were grinding away out there, carrying that old saying like a banner: "If you weren't born with looks, you'd better master magic." Those people — the ones who truly worked for it — deserved girls who burned with the same fire.*

People drifted away in ones and twos.

Students these days were too fragile. A little unfair treatment, and they all acted as though the sky had fallen on them.

If Mo Fan himself were still at the Basic Level, he would have been the first one out the door.

Being told to leave for being weak was getting off lightly. Out there, a Demon-Beast wouldn't waste words — it would simply tear you apart for the same weakness, right down the middle.

Nearly fifty thousand students had come to this all-school assembly. In past years, the Main Campus assessment had taken different forms, and all students were permitted to try — the elimination rate simply ran extraordinarily high.

This time, Dean Xiao had cut out everyone below Intermediate-Level from the start. It was a move that required a kind of bold resolve most teachers could never muster.