The Almighty Cultivator

Chapter 9

Blood poured from Diego’s lips as he lay among the pieces of broken stone.

Every stare inside the combat hall moved from his fallen body to Chris, who remained standing on the platform without any sign of exhaustion. Confusion passed through the crowd as the candidates tried to understand what they had witnessed.

Diego possessed a perfect nine-ring core and had trained under the finest instructors the village chief could afford. He had even used the Waterfall Fist, the technique that made his father feared throughout the surrounding territories.

Yet he had just been defeated by someone they believed did not possess a core.

There's no way it was possible.

“That was sorcery!” one student suddenly shouted. “He must have used forbidden sorcery against Diego.”

“That explains everything,” another student said. “No coreless cultivator could defeat Diego in a fair fight.”

“He cheated before all of us!”

“He should be disqualified and driven out of the academy!”

The accusations travelled through the hall until the students were shouting over one another. Even some tutors nodded in agreement, ashamed that a poor candidate without a known family had humiliated the young man they had praised moments earlier.

Rachel stood frozen beside the platform. Her face had lost its colour as she stared at Diego’s collapsed body.

Diego was supposed to enter Cutlis Academy as its most gifted new student, while she entered beside him as the woman who had helped create his success. Instead, he had been thrown across the hall by the man they had left to die.

Several candidates rushed towards Diego and pulled him out of the rubble. His legs could barely support him, and one arm hung uselessly beside him as blood continued dripping from his mouth.

“Get away from me!” Diego shouted.

He shoved the students aside, but the movement caused him to stumble. Rachel caught his arm before he fell, and humiliation twisted his face when he noticed everyone watching him struggle to stand.

The registration coordinator marched towards the platform with a deep frown. The admiration he had shown Diego had disappeared, leaving behind an anger directed entirely at Chris.

“You used sorcery during an official academy assessment,” he declared. “That victory cannot be accepted.”

Chris looked at him without expression.

“What sorcery did I use?”

“You expect me to explain your own trick?” the coordinator demanded. “Everyone here witnessed what happened. A person without a core cannot defeat a nine-ring cultivator or stop the Waterfall Fist with one hand.”

“That does not prove I cheated.”

“It proves enough for me.”

The coordinator climbed onto the platform and examined Chris as though he might discover some hidden artifact beneath his tattered clothes. He found nothing, and his failure only darkened his expression.

“Kneel before Diego and apologize for contaminating this assessment,” he ordered. “If you surrender whatever forbidden object you used, I may allow you to leave without further punishment.”

Chris glanced at Diego, who could not stand without Rachel holding him, then returned his attention to the coordinator.

“I will not apologize for winning the test you created.”

“You were never supposed to win!”

The confession escaped before the coordinator could restrain it. A brief silence followed, but he quickly continued before anyone could question his words.

“You entered this academy without proof of a core, insulted one of our finest candidates, and interfered with a legitimate technique. You should be grateful that I am allowing you to walk away.”

Chris stepped towards him.

“I came here to register for the academy. You said defeating Diego would be my assessment, and everyone inside this hall heard you. I accepted your condition, fought him before witnesses, and won.”

His gaze remained steady as he closed the remaining distance between them.

“You will give me the admission I earned.”

The coordinator’s face tightened. “What will you do if I refuse?”

“Or will you use your sorcery against me as well?” The coordinator released a humourless laugh. “Do you believe the same trick that worked on Diego will protect you from an academy tutor?”

Angry shouts rose from the seats again.

“Throw him out of the academy!”

“Make him surrender the forbidden artifact!”

The voices echoed through the hall as several candidates moved towards the platform. Their earlier fear disappeared now that the coordinator stood against Chris. They surrounded the stage with threatening expressions, eager to punish the person they had feared moments earlier.

“So Cultis Academy has no dignity?” The words shot a stab right into the chest of the coordinator.

“You insolent fool,” he said. “I will personally teach you what happens to anyone who disgraces this academy.”

He reached towards Chris as energy gathered around his fingers.

Before he could touch him, the enormous doors at the end of the combat hall burst open.

The impact travelled through the room like thunder. Everyone turned as an elderly man entered through the settling dust, supporting himself with a dark wooden walking stick.

His hair was completely grey, and deep lines crossed his face, yet nothing about him appeared weak. Each measured strike of his walking stick against the floor silenced another section of the hall. Although he walked slowly, the pressure surrounding him felt heavier than the combined presence of every tutor in the room.

The coordinator’s raised hand fell to his side.

Several tutors rose from their seats at once. Shock widened their eyes as they recognized the elderly man, and the students followed them to their feet even though most had only seen him in portraits and cultivation records.

The man was Grandmaster Igor.

He had been born in their village and trained at Cultis Academy before becoming one of the most powerful cultivators in the known world. Kings and noble families offered fortunes for the privilege of having him instruct their heirs, yet he accepted only those he considered worthy.

Years had passed since anyone in the village had seen him. Rumours claimed he travelled only when he discovered a talent capable of changing the future.

His appearance could mean only one thing. Grandmaster Igor had come to select a student.

The anger inside the hall vanished beneath a rush of excitement. Candidates straightened their robes, and tutors hurried forward to welcome him.

Chris had not forgotten the old man.

He recognized Grandmaster Igor as the stranger he had found poisoned near the mountain.

The coordinator hurried down from the platform and bowed deeply.

“Grandmaster Igor, your presence honours Cultis Academy. If we had known you were coming, we would have prepared a proper welcome.”

Igor walked past him without responding.

The coordinator followed closely, clapping his hands as though he had arranged the visit himself.

“You must have heard about the exceptional talent discovered during today’s assessment,” he said. “I assure you that the reports did not exaggerate his potential.”

Igor stopped in the centre of the hall.

The coordinator immediately pointed towards Diego, who forced himself upright despite the blood staining his lips.

“This is the student you came to see,” the coordinator announced proudly. “His name is Diego, and he possesses a perfect nine-ring core. He is Cultis Academy’s newest star student.”

Diego pushed Rachel’s hand away and attempted to straighten his damaged robe. Being chosen by Grandmaster Igor would erase the humiliation of losing to Chris and prove that he was still the most valuable person in the hall.

Igor examined him for less than a second before turning away.

“Move him out of my path,” he said. “I did not come here for Diego, and that injured boy is no star student.”

The coordinator’s proud expression collapsed.

Igor raised his walking stick and pointed directly at Chris.

“I came for the most powerful student I have encountered in my entire life, and that is him over there.” He pointed at Chris.