Volume One: The Awakening of the Dragon Soul Chapter 14: You Are Not Suited

Ruined!

Mo Xing thought anxiously. Besides the practical class, there was a theory exam the day after tomorrow, and he had spent all his time chatting instead of reviewing the material!

"Don't panic, junior! It's just the freshman assessment. Back when I did it, I was even more carefree than you, and I still passed!" Mian Hua placed his right hand reassuringly on Mo Xing's shoulder.

"Then... Senior, do you have any tips?" Mo Xing asked.

"Well..." Mian Hua hesitated for a moment. "Review thoroughly and train harder."

"And?" Mo Xing pressed.

"Ouch! My stomach hurts!" Mian Hua suddenly clutched his belly. "I need to run to the restroom!"

With that, Mian Hua hurried off.

"Don't worry, I'm more dependable than he is," Cai Hongjiang said, giving Mo Xing's shoulder a reassuring pat. "Hand me your review materials—I'll look them over and highlight the important sections for you!"

"Thank you so much, Senior!" Mo Xing quickly took out the review materials stored in his Titan Ring and handed them over.

Ten minutes later.

"All done," Cai Hongjiang said as he returned the materials to Mo Xing.

"So much?" Mo Xing exclaimed in shock at the densely marked notes.

"Yes, these are all key points!" Cai Hongjiang yawned. "I'm so tired. I'm going to shower and sleep. You should do the same once you've reviewed enough."

"Alright," Mo Xing nodded, watching his senior leave before settling down with his materials.

The history of Aslant Special Forces, identifying equipment quality, the mysteries of the nine elements, the characteristics of each profession...

Reviewing these topics was harder than chewing on tree bark. With only a day and a half left until the exam, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd be able to manage.

...

"Mo Xing! Mo Xing!"

Hearing his name, Mo Xing slowly opened his eyes to see Teacher Long Lian standing before him.

"Teacher Long Lian?" Mo Xing said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"If I'm not here, where else would I be?" Long Lian replied cheerfully. "By the way, are you turning in your paper or not?"

"Paper? Wasn't I just studying in my dorm?" Mo Xing looked around in confusion—the dorm was clearly there.

"Did you sleep yourself silly? The exam is over," Long Lian said, moving Mo Xing's hand away. "My heavens! You didn't even answer the first question!"

"What?"

Mo Xing was more bewildered than ever. Suddenly, the environment shifted—he was in a classroom, surrounded by classmates whispering among themselves, while the somber toll of a bell rang from outside the window.

He had been transported from his dorm to the classroom!

What was happening?

"Mo Xing, I truly misjudged you," Long Lian sighed, his eyes filled with disappointment.

"Wait, Teacher Long Lian!" Mo Xing cried in panic. "Let me explain! It's not what you think!"

"It's not what you think!"

"It's not what you think!"

Mo Xing jerked his head up and found himself slumped over the desk, his right hand numb beneath his head. Looking around, he confirmed he was still in his dorm.

"That was a close call—it was just a dream."

Mo Xing wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced at the clock on the wall—it was 5:40 in the morning, the first light of dawn just breaking.

He had no idea when he had fallen asleep, but since he was awake, he might as well go outside and train. After all, his mastery over his weapon was still lacking.

Mo Xing tidied his desk, threw on a simple jacket, and stepped outside.

As soon as he reached the entrance of Rehn Hall, a gentle breeze picked up, and a few slightly yellowed leaves drifted down before his eyes, fluttering like butterflies and adding a touch of pale gold to the path.

"Is autumn coming already?" Mo Xing smiled to himself.

He was born in autumn and thus held a special fondness for the season.

"Hmm, there are even more fallen leaves now."

Suddenly, another voice replied, making Mo Xing jump.

"Ahhh!" He spun around to find Mr. Shen standing behind him, broom in hand as always.

"M-Mr. Shen?" Mo Xing stammered. "Could you please stop sneaking up on me like that?"

"Young people—still so jumpy," Mr. Shen shook his head and continued sweeping the ground.

"By the way," Mo Xing began, "the broom you lent me before—I left it—"

"I know where it is. Already picked it up," Mr. Shen replied, not pausing. "It's the one I'm holding now."

"Alright," Mo Xing said. "Thank you again for teaching me how to use the power of the Dragon God."

"Oh, don't thank me, that's too much!" Mr. Shen looked up. "Look at you now, the campus celebrity."

"Er... So you've been reading the newspapers too, Mr. Shen?" Mo Xing scratched the back of his head, slightly embarrassed.

"Of course. I have to keep up with you young folks somehow," Mr. Shen chuckled. "By the way, isn't the freshman assessment tomorrow? What weapon and class did you choose?"

"I tried a lot of weapons, but none seemed to suit me according to my seniors. In the end, my teacher advised me to use a staff and pursue the path of an Elementalist."

With that, Mo Xing summoned his staff from the Titan Ring.

"A staff? An Elementalist?" Mr. Shen frowned. "That's not the path for you."

"What? But my teacher said my explosive power was strong and recommended I become an Elementalist," Mo Xing replied, taken aback by Mr. Shen's abrupt rejection.

"You're really not suited to be an Elementalist," Mr. Shen said gravely. "In fact, it's the worst choice you could make."

"But yesterday, I beat eleven opponents in a row during practical class!" Mo Xing argued. "Doesn't that prove I'm suited to be an Elementalist?"

"So you beat eleven opponents. So what? What level are they? Where do they rank in the class? In the whole year? In the entire school? Or even across the whole continent of Aslant?"

"Well..."

Mo Xing was stumped by Mr. Shen's barrage of questions.

"You only beat a few classmates. The freshman assessment isn't just about them," Mr. Shen replied coolly.

Mo Xing fell silent.

So did Mr. Shen.

A clear, melodious bell sounded in the distance, breaking the silence. Mo Xing turned to see someone riding a bicycle, a satchel slung over his shoulder.

"Hey, up early, aren't you?" the cyclist called out with a smile. "Out for some morning exercise?"

"There's someone else—" Mo Xing turned, but Mr. Shen had disappeared again.

"Most people these days sleep in—early risers like you are rare, ha ha ha!"

"By the way! Here are the newspapers your dorm ordered. Could you put them in the mailbox at the entrance?" The man pulled several newspapers from his bag and handed them to Mo Xing. "I've got more to deliver—thanks a lot!"

"Um... sure!" Mo Xing barely finished his sentence before the delivery man pedaled off, leaving a trail of cheerful bell chimes behind.

Mo Xing walked to the entrance and was about to slip the papers into the mailbox when a headline caught his eye:

"Mo Xing scores eleven consecutive victories in practical training—will he be the biggest dark horse of the freshman assessment?"

A strange feeling stirred within him—he couldn't tell if it was pride or unease.

With that feeling lingering inside, Mo Xing slid the newspapers into the mailbox.