Translator: CinderTL
Following the sound, Roland's gaze swept across a vast training ground teeming with people.
Members of various races were crammed together, their faces etched with anxiety.
Among the most numerous humans, the stocky figures of dwarves and the slender silhouettes of elves stood out.
But the most striking figures were several green-skinned individuals towering over the crowd.
With protruding tusks and bulging muscles, they were unmistakably the orcs described in ancient texts.
"Are those orcs?" Roland murmured, his surprise evident.
According to legend, this race was renowned for its volatile temper and warlike nature.
The Western Orc Kingdom had long instigated border conflicts, causing endless suffering to neighboring nations.
Yet these orcs were remarkably docile, lining up obediently like tamed beasts, even consciously softening their breathing.
"That's the assessment area for admissions," Avril explained, noticing Roland's gaze.
"Since the River Domain Nations operate under a co-governance system, youths from all races apply here every year during the admissions season."
She nodded slightly toward a distant point.
"Look over there."
Following Avril's guidance, Roland noticed some exceptionally short candidates mixed among the crowd.
They had human-like faces but more proportionate builds, standing only three to four feet tall.
The most striking feature was their unusually large feet.
The bare soles were not only covered in thick calluses but also densely covered in hair.
"Are they gnomes?" Roland asked.
"No," Avril replied, leading him forward. "Though they resemble gnomes, they're halflings."
"Halflings..." Roland nodded thoughtfully.
This race was rarely mentioned in historical texts, but the brief glimpse he'd just caught reminded him of the Hobbits he'd seen in fantasy films before his transmigration. These candidates looked almost identical to them.
After passing through an archway guarded by soldiers, the pair followed a winding corridor.
Avril finally stopped before a plain oak door and knocked lightly three times.
"Come in," a gentle voice responded from within.
Before the echo of the voice had faded, Avril pushed the door open and entered.
Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the study in a warm glow and illuminating the simple oak furniture.
Behind the desk sat an elderly man with silver hair, each strand meticulously combed, its silken sheen catching the light.
Roland's gaze fell to the seashell crest on the man's chest, identical to the emblem on Colin's lapel.
"Mr. Nielsen," Avril said, stepping aside to reveal Roland behind her.
The old man adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes behind the lenses both gentle and sharp.
"This must be the Roland Colin mentioned," Nielsen said with a smile, retrieving a rolled parchment from a drawer. "Colin has already explained your situation in detail."
He gestured for Roland to approach. The yellowed parchment slowly unfurled on the desk, revealing pre-written text.
"This is the enrollment contract," Nielsen said, tapping the top layer of parchment. "Sign here, and you'll become an official student of the Knight Academy. As for this document below..."
He shifted the contract to reveal another sheet of paper with a unique texture.
"This is a citizenship certificate for the River Domain Nations. I believe..."
The old man looked up and smiled.
"Colin must have already explained the conditions to you?"
"Of course."
Roland took the documents and carefully reviewed each line.
After confirming the terms were correct, he picked up the quill pen and signed his name on both copies.
With a firm press of his thumb on the sealing wax, the crimson emblem was imprinted on the parchment like a bloodstain.
While Roland was signing the documents, Avril had already excused herself and left.
"Excellent."
Nielsen neatly filed the documents away, interlaced his fingers, and rested his chin on them.
"Colin mentioned your exceptional talent and reluctance to follow the standard curriculum to obtain the Knight's Breathing Technique. Fortunately, the academy has precedents for such cases."
He retrieved a stack of yellowed parchment from an oak shelf.
"These are unresolved, challenging commissions. Completing just three of them will allow you to..."
Knock, knock, knock!
A sudden knock interrupted their conversation.
A deep voice called from outside the door.
"Old Nielsen, are you in there?"
Nielsen's amiable smile froze instantly, his brow furrowing into deep lines.
Before he could respond, the heavy oak door slowly creaked open.
A gaunt man stood in the doorway, wearing a gentle smile similar to Nielsen's, yet his eyes radiated a chilling coldness.
In the sunlight, Roland noticed that Finn wore a uniform similar to Nielsen's, but the emblem on his chest was a distinct golden tulip, its tightly closed bud embroidered with lifelike detail.
"Mr. Finn," Nielsen said, narrowing his eyes and leaning forward slightly. "I don't recall having an appointment with you today."
"Of course not. Your memory has always been impeccable."
Before Finn could finish speaking, a muffled crash sounded behind him.
"I'm the one who wants to see you!"
A colossal figure ducked through the doorway.
As the giant straightened to his full height, Roland's pupils constricted.
This was a physique beyond human proportions.
The newcomer's massive frame nearly filled the entire doorway, his shadow engulfing half the room. He resembled a walking stone tower.
His neck was nearly as thick as his head, granite-like muscles straining his linen shirt into exaggerated curves.
Root-like veins coiled across his bare forearms, and each breath caused his armored chest muscles to ripple like waves.
When he turned his head, the sharp angles of his jawline seemed carved by an axe, even the shadows casting razor-edged angles.
Most terrifying were his palm-sized hands, like giant fans.
His fingers unconsciously clenched and unclenched, the knuckles cracking with a grating sound that made one's teeth ache.
"Dean Graham!"
Seeing the visitor, Nielsen immediately rose from his chair, his face showing respectful deference, though a flicker of wariness flashed in his eyes.
"I wasn't expecting you to come in person. What instructions do you have for me?"
"Hmph."
Graham's cold snort rumbled like thunder, shaking the parchment scrolls on the bookshelves.
"I hear Colin's snagged another 'talent'?"
He deliberately emphasized the last word, his bell-like eyes suddenly locking onto Roland.
"Another exception to the entrance exam?"
The moment Roland met that gaze, a suffocating pressure pressed down on his chest. The air seemed to solidify, making it difficult to breathe.
This man's power is unfathomable!
Roland made the assessment in an instant.
"Dean Graham..."
The oppressive atmosphere in the room wasn't felt by Roland alone.
Under this invisible pressure, Nielsen's neck stiffened like rusted machinery, making even the slightest movement of his head excruciatingly difficult.
"Please understand, Mr. Roland's exceptional skills undoubtedly meet the requirements for direct admission without examination."
"Exceptional skills? Hmph!"
Even as Graham's cold snort still reverberated in the air, his massive, fan-like hand descended upon Roland with earth-shattering force, like a colossal axe cleaving through mountains.
Before the palm even struck, a violent gale, like a raging storm, swept through the room.
The black hair at Roland's forehead whipped wildly, and the wind pressure stung his cheeks.
Faced with this overwhelming force, every muscle in his body instinctively tensed, his right hand gripping the sword hilt at his waist like an iron vise.
In a flash.
Bang!
A thunderous roar erupted in the confined space, rattling the window frames.
This was followed by a series of ear-splitting cracks.
The solid floor shattered under the immense force, sending splinters flying like a torrential rain.
Amidst the chaos, a faint, astonished sigh could be heard.
(End of the Chapter)