The square was bustling with activity. The battle-obsessed people of Barutos behaved as if they were celebrating a grand festival.

  O’Neil stood in a corner, watching everything coldly.

  Although he and the other Barutos youths appeared eager for the trial on the surface, O’Neil actually felt disgusted by the bloody selection process. To be more precise, he thought the Barutos Clan was somewhat foolish.

  Despite their firm belief in survival of the fittest and the law of the jungle, sending a group of children—some not even ten years old—to fight demonic beasts, creatures fiercer than lions and tigers, was simply reckless.

  In O’Neil’s view, nearly every young member of the Barbaros Clan possessed exceptional talent.

  Even if one of them died during such a clan selection, with proper training they could have grown into powerful Transcendents—each capable of defeating more than one elite Transcendent soldier of the Golden Empire.

  The entire Barbaros Clan numbered around ten thousand people.

  Even if only five thousand were properly trained, they would become a terrifying force capable of influencing the surrounding tribes.

  Five thousand top-tier warriors far surpassed fifty thousand elite soldiers.

  Five thousand supreme fighters could serve as razor-sharp blades. Combined with Astrid’s terrifying strength, there would likely be no army within the Ice Mountain Cave Range capable of resisting such power.

  But no one in the Barbaros Clan had ever thought this way.

  They lived like a primitive tribe, much like the northern nomads.

  Every few years, they conducted a brutal and bloody selection among the youths who had reached the threshold of awakening the core supernatural power — the Sea of Life Essence — killing off many children whose talents would be considered extraordinary within the Golden Empire.

  Although the survivors were the elite of the elite—each possessing combat power comparable to a soldier of the White Crown Legion—how many supreme elites did the tribe truly have?

  Barely twenty.

  The entire clan had no more than five hundred such top-level members.

  This explained why the Barbaros Clan, despite being wealthy from hunting demonic beasts and selling their materials, maintained such a low population.

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  Every five or six years, dozens of new members died, making growth impossible.

  It was a miracle that such a reckless race had not perished over time.

  This was O’Neil’s evaluation of the Barbaros Clan.

  Yet when he saw the bloodthirsty adults and the children who appeared excited but were secretly afraid, his indifference toward the clan’s fate suddenly shifted.

  Because he thought—if he could one day subdue such a tribe and train its elites into true warriors—

  “That sounds interesting.”

  With that thought, O’Neil smiled faintly to himself.

  ---

  The Barbaros Clan was one of the strongest and most respected branches of the Ice and Snow Clan in the northern part of the Empire.

  Every few years, a fierce selection tournament was held.

  “Heh… suddenly, I’m really looking forward to this battle,” O’Neil muttered after reviewing everything in his mind.

  Astrid kept her gaze fixed on the arena, though she was secretly observing O’Neil’s behavior.

  “O’Neil, have you lost your mind again? What did you say?” the stunning young girl asked.

  O’Neil felt a certain affection toward Astrid, who was incredibly beautiful despite still being a child. He smiled and replied:

  “I’m truly looking forward to this battle.”

  Astrid revealed a somewhat pleased smile before quickly hiding it.

  “Let’s see who can defeat the strongest demonic beast!”

  “Great!” O’Neil said excitedly. He completely ignored the lower-level beasts.

  “How about we make a bet? Let’s see who defeats the strongest demonic beast in this trial!”

  “Fine! What are the stakes?” Astrid immediately agreed. Her competitive spirit was as strong as her future queenly aura.

  She had never lost a match since childhood.

  O’Neil glanced at her delicate lips and beautiful face, then smiled mischievously.

  “The loser must do one thing for the winner. Anything is acceptable.”

  “No problem.”

  Astrid believed the strong had the right to decide everything for the weak. She answered without hesitation.

  “Then… let the battle begin quickly,” O’Neil said with a smile.

  But the divine light flashing in his eyes made Astrid wonder whether she could truly win.

  ---

  The annual Barbaros selection trial officially began.

  The patriarch looked at the spirited youths and nodded in satisfaction.

  “Today, you will take the Essence of the Sea of Life potion in order to advance to the Transcendent Level.”

  “Battle is the catalyst for awakening this power. You will drink the potion and fight to the death against demonic beasts that have already been elevated to the Transcendent Level.”

  “If sufficiently stimulated, you will awaken the core supernatural power — the Sea of Life Essence — complete your transcendence, and advance your life level.”

  “Tell me—are you ready?”

  “Ready!”

  The voices of the young men and women were loud and resolute.

  “Then begin. Remember—the potion will burn your vitality. If you fail to break through during battle, you will suffer severe internal injuries, deplete your life force, and lose the opportunity to reach the Transcendent Level.”

  The patriarch handed over the red potion, which resembled boiling magma.

  The first Apprentice-Level demonic beast entered the field. The first Barbaros youth was called forward to face it.

  The boy confronted a terrifying spider-like creature, nearly the size of a bus.

  Corrosive liquid continuously dripped from its eight massive legs. Its mere presence was enough to make ordinary people wet themselves in fear.

  The battle began.

  The result was as cruel as O’Neil had expected.

  The Barbaros youth was defeated.

  His fate was tragic—he was completely devoured by the giant spider.

  Although several Barbaros experts watching could have intervened, these fanatics who believed “strength makes right” did nothing.

  O’Neil could not intervene either.

  It was not yet time. Even if he wanted to change the fate of the Barbaros Clan, he currently lacked the strength to do so.

  Until he possessed enough power, he had to endure.

  ---

  The battles continued.

  Demonic beasts were brought out one after another, and Barbaros youths stepped forward continuously to fight.

  Most of the weaker youths were defeated.

  Some died instantly. Others were severely injured but survived by luck.

  The survivors were not fortunate either—they were exiled from the village and sent to lower-level tribes with diluted bloodlines in the neighboring Ice Cave territories.

  There were losers—and there were winners.

  Several Barbaros youths successfully defeated their demonic beasts, earning cheers and the respect due to the strong.

  They withdrew victoriously.

  Yet on the very field where they had just fought, the remains and blood of companions they had once played with still stained the ground.