Nero did not know if his friends could understand his vague code, but it shouldn’t have been hard. Aether was pretty common, and would usually be the first thing people think of when they see an A.

But that is not what he was focusing on. Instead, he focused on determining if his aether was being consumed. Even though he suspected that not many would be able to last the full hour, Nero intended to last the full hour and have energy remaining to do whatever came next.

There were many things he couldn’t guess about their situation, but there was at least one thing he was absolutely certain about, and that was that they were being observed. When he and the rest stood in line with discipline, they were being observed. When they accepted the punishment without protest, they were being observed. When he flashed the symbol with his hands, he was being observed.

Unlike the rest, what he wanted was not something as futile as acknowledgement or praise for being a good little soldier and listening to orders. No, what Nero wanted was to establish himself as the best.

Whatever the army wanted with them, they would only use the best and most well suited of their latest recruits for that purpose. Nero intended for his name to be at the top of that list. He was no longer training under the guidance of a teacher and limited supplies. No, now he had the entire army’s payroll backing him up.

Now all he needed to do was prove to them that they should invest as much as possible into him and help him grow stronger. To train him in ways he could not imagine, and fix his weaknesses that he couldn’t spot.

To him, standing in this scorching room, using aether as efficiently as possible to survive as long as possible wasn’t punishment. No, it was aether training, and he took it with the same measure of seriousness he gave every other training.

Soon, Nero forgot about the time, as all his focus was directed towards his own aether. He could tell it was being used to resist something. At a glance it seemed like he was hardly using any aether at all. But considering the fact that he had to maintain this for an hour, he was pretty sure he would get depleted long before then.

That left him with two options. Either he could intermittently pause resisting to preserve aether, or try to improve just how much aether he consumed. He didn’t see why he couldn’t do both, so he decided on that.

In the back of his mind, he wondered if what he was resisting was some ability. If it was made or powered by aether, he wondered if Maverick’s passive to constantly absorb aether from the air around him made him resistant to this place entirely. If so, then it might work similarly in actual environments with a similar effect. He’d have to get his hands on one of his innate cards.

Nero lost himself in his focus, completely indifferent to the heat that was absolutely decimating most others. The students, or rather new recruits, weren’t over their resignation about being drafted, but they knew better than to continue resisting.

If they continued to cause trouble, they would only invite more punishments. If they continued beyond that, and whoever was incharge of them began to feel like they weren’t worth it, chances were high they’d get sent to a cursed zone.

But even when they were doing their best to comply, there was only so much they could manage. After about half an hour passed, most of them were thoroughly exhausted, and even had trouble standing.

They had started moaning and groaning a while ago, even as they tried to resist it, but ultimately, they could hold themselves back no longer.

The first recruit gave the soldiers a desperate look and said he was on the verge of dying. Whether it was true or not, he certainly felt like it.

The first complaint let loose a barrage, and soon all of them were pleading to be let out. They couldn’t take much more. Some had literally stopped sweating because their bodies were running out of water.

“Instead of complaining, why don’t you try to guess why they’re doing just fine,” one of the soldiers said derisively, as if the sight of pleading children irritated him.

The students had already noticed that more than just a few of them were managing to survive, even if all of them weren’t as comfortable as Nero. But in their given state, they were not exactly well equipped to solve puzzles. That changed nothing.

They continued to suffer and complain and writhe, until one of them figured out using aether helped, and then yelled it out.

Somehow, they managed to survive, and the hour passed. Nero, his group and a few others were let out, which made the wait even worse for the remaining recruits.

Nero wasn’t sure suffering without proper guidance was the best way to train someone, but he wasn’t going to question their methods on the first day. Fortunately, after that, they were led to the barracks where any luggage they had brought had already been moved.

They faced no more hurdles for the rest of the day. After a short break, they were led to the mess hall where they ate breakfast, which lacked the variety offered by the school cafeteria, but at least they were allowed to eat their fill.

Then each of them were brought away for tests on their physical state, and cross checking the information the army had on them.

There were no mistakes in Nero’s profile, which was not surprising, and though his tests took longer than usual, nothing unexpected happened. The extra time was taken because his performance was above average in everything they tested, so that took more time.

The physical tests were simple things, like having recruits run continuously for a certain time, or run a course filled with various obstacles, carry certain weights, as well as a basic competency test with several different weapons.

Nero proved extremely competent with everything he was handed, from a bow, to a sword to a spear, hammer, axe, sling, and quarterstaff. Although he clearly had his own preferences, his parents had made his train with every standard issue weapon available. As unusual as the selection seemed, the army probably had their reasons for commonly using all such weapons.

Then came the aether tests. Despite his recent training, Nero was very concerned that he would be behind most others in this field. After all, even if he learned to control his aether really well, he had only absorbed around 3% of the card after his latest progress and all the aether rich food he was being fed.

His cultivation progress was basically still at the starting line, and he expected everyone else was ahead of him. To a certain extent, that proved to be true. Nero had the worst aether capacity of his group – something he figured out on his own after asking everyone else their results.

He also had one of the worst results in card crafting, though on a personal level he felt like he had made tremendous progress.

But besides that, he was once again leading in almost every other aspect. His fine control, his spell application, his consumption rate and every other field they checked off were exceptional.

Well, that was his own assessment of his level, since the soldiers recording down his results did not really comment on anything.

Then came the medical tests. This was not really a field in which he could clearly determine his position. What was he supposed to measure? The redness of his blood drawn?

But even so, the tests were extensive, and he was even exposed to some mild curses to test how effectively his body resists.

Nero did not have access to those results, mainly because most of them would take a while to process.

By the end, it was already evening. Everyone was led to the mess hall once more, and then told they had around one hour of free time before it was lights out. The next day they would be briefed on what they would be doing.

Yet most students were too exhausted to enjoy the freedom. Almost all of them dragged themselves to the barracks right after food to get some sleep. But then they had to face the harsh reality which was that their muscles were too sore and ached too much to sleep.

Nero and his group were not included among those students, not because they weren’t sore, but because they were still at the cafeteria. They were sitting close to one another, forming a circle, but no one was speaking. They were too exhausted, physically and emotionally to chat. Instead, they just sat in silence for a while and allowed themselves to go over the events of the day.

After a while, the sound of footsteps attracted their attention. Nero, who had been missing from the group, was walking over wearing a smile. He had just befriended the chef in the mess hall.

Becoming friends with the person cooking his food was one of his personal tenants.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep