West of the Mountain Range of Magical Beasts, the Yulan Continent was divided into the Holy Union and the Dark Alliance. The leading kingdom of the Holy Union was the Kingdom of Finlay, whose capital was Finlay City.

Finlay City was also the Holy City, for the Radiant Church’s headquarters lay in its western district. The eastern district was governed by the kingdom, the western by the Church. As both royal capital and Holy City, it was among the most prosperous cities on the continent: a vast metropolis with more than a million residents.

At dusk, Linley and Hillman entered the city. Walking down the eastern district’s main avenue, Champs-Elysees Avenue, Linley could scarcely take it all in. Bebe hid inside his clothes, peeking out and squeaking with excitement.

“Quiet,” Linley whispered, patting it. Bebe obeyed, though it kept sending excited feelings through their soul connection.

The smooth flagstone avenue was wide enough for several carriages abreast. Inns, clothing shops, weapon stores, and taverns lined both sides beneath neat rows of tall cypresses. Fashionably dressed noblewomen and young ladies strolled and chatted. Seeing Linley’s wonder, some laughed softly and pointed at him; to the capital’s nobles, he looked like a country boy visiting the city.

“How ill-mannered,” Linley muttered. Family training soon helped him hide his excitement behind a calm face.

“What do you think?” Hillman asked. “Finlay City is the largest city in the Holy Union. Powerful warriors and magi are common here.”

“Books call it the Union’s political, economic, and artistic center,” Linley said.

“A paradise for the wealthy and powerful,” Hillman agreed.

After walking along the bustling avenue, they found an ordinary inn and ate at a small restaurant beside it. That night, Bebe burst from Linley’s shirt and raced circles around him.

“You are hungry. Eat.” Linley tossed it the whole roast duck he had brought back. Bebe began tearing into it joyfully.

“Sleep early,” Hillman said. “Your magic test is tomorrow morning.”

Linley agreed but went to the window. Their inn was three stories high, something Wushan Town did not have, though seven- and eight-story buildings were common in Finlay City. The street below was still crowded.

Doehring emerged from the ring. “It has been a long time since I saw a large city.”

“How does it feel to be here?” he asked Linley.

“Nothing special,” Linley said.

Doehring laughed. “You have only just arrived. Great cities hold all manner of luxuries. At major auctions, rich men spend hundreds of thousands, even millions, of Gold Coins on a single item.”

“Millions?” Linley’s throat went dry. His family might not even possess a hundred thousand Gold Coins.

“There are many rich people. Money, power, and beautiful women inspire fierce struggles. People die here every day; bodies, perhaps even nobles, are found in the foul ditches of the slums. To stand firm in this world, you need your own strength. Never hope for another’s mercy. You can rely only on yourself.”

The Dragonblood Warrior blood in Linley made him naturally combative and fierce. “Anyone who threatens me or my family, I will kill.” He knew that mercy to an enemy could mean death for one’s loved ones.

Yet he was still weak. He remembered the noblewomen’s contempt and sat cross-legged on his bed to meditate, training his Spiritual Force. Meditation exhausted that force to its limit, after which sleep restored it.

Within his middle dantian, misty yellow-brown Earth-element Mana drifted. From First-rank through Sixth-rank, Mana remained mist-like, becoming denser and purer with each increase in rank. At Seventh-rank it condensed into liquid; that threshold was a great hurdle.

Hillman saw Linley meditating instead of sleeping and silently praised his diligence.

The next morning, they went to Greenleaf Road in the eastern district. Its grand estates and kingdom offices surrounded the tallest building of all: a Radiant Church cathedral. The Church controlled the six kingdoms and fifteen duchies of the Holy Union; the Pope could even depose a king.

A crowd of nobles and carriages filled the cathedral square. “There are so many people,” Linley said. “Many nobles brought their children.”

“A graduate of Ernst Institute can easily become a count in a kingdom,” Hillman replied.

Linley understood the distinction: a kingdom’s title was obtainable, but an imperial title was much harder. Any of the Four Great Empires could rival the whole Holy Union.

Nearby nobles exchanged greetings. The aptitude examination alone cost ten Gold Coins, and ordinary academies charged several hundred Gold Coins a year. Common families could not afford that, though nobles would sponsor talented children. Ernst Institute, however, waived all tuition for children of the Holy Union because it admitted so few, all extraordinary geniuses.

“Even commoners and country bumpkins dare to come? They are dreaming,” some nobles sneered.

The square had plainly split into two circles: the loudly talking nobles and the commoners or minor rural nobles. Hillman told Linley not to mind them. Linley smiled; Hogg’s teaching had long since taught him not to care about such people.

After a time, a black-robed cleric came from the cathedral. “The magic tests now begin. The recruiters of the various academies are ready. All candidates, follow me into the hall.”