"Where the fuck are you dragging me?"

I tried to shake my hand from his iron grip, but to no avail. The man didn't reply either. How high was his Body Refining rank anyway? In minutes, I was dragged by him before a literal iron fortress, a regal structure. He circled the walls, reaching a gate with a counter manned by a woman.

"Pewjack, what brings you here?"

The counter woman perked enthusiastically as she spoke to the man. I pitied Pewjack for his parents' horrid naming sense, wondering if he had ever gotten mocked for his odd name. Pewjack pointed to me, and replied.

"I'm here to register this young man here for the disciple recruitment test. Oh, what's your name anyway, boy?"

"My name is Alan, and why the fuck have you dragged me here?"

Pewjack then informed me of what in the world was going on, an explanation I would have appreciated before he dragged me all the way here.

"You see Alan, here at Iodious, one of the principles we follow is honour! All our debts are to be repaid, and for saving my life, I will allow you to join as an inner disciple here at our sect!"

I stared at him blankly, speechless. What type of repayment was that anyway, roping the person into their affairs? Still, it didn't sound like too bad of a deal to be honest. I was unsure how the ranks worked in this "sect", but the rank "inner disciple" sounded like a higher rank than most, likely entitling me to large amounts of resources for cultivation. Seeing that I didn't reply, Pewjack took my silence as consent.

"Seerupt, sign Alan up for the disciple test! I don't care if he would be registered as a inner disciple anyway, I want some stats on his strength!"

"Alright Pewjack, I'll get to it!"

She waved her hands as he dashed off, smiling all the while. Meanwhile, I was wondering what was wrong with the naming senses of people here. Who in the world names their child syrup? It wasn't just Pewjack's parents for sure. Syrup girl pressed a button on her counter and a man led into a waiting room full of people, all waiting for the test. I took a seat next to a jovial young man who looked around my age.

"Hello! Come here to take the test as well?" He beamed at me as he spoke.

"Isn't that obvious?" I replied curtly, not in the mood to chat. He chuckled at my reply, although I wasn't sure what was so funny.

"Come on man, don't be such a thud!" He pat my shoulder with his hand, turning his head to look me in the eyes. I assumed "thud" to be some sort of slang here and wasn't sure what he meant.

"Leave me alone, I'm not in the mood to chat." I pushed his hand off my shoulder and pulled the spellbook on core cultivation out, flipping back to the page I last read. I had grasped the main concept of how to refine and improve my core, but I had not fully grasped the additional information that took up the other half of the book.

"Ooh, a spellbook! Mind letting me take a look?" He crocked his head to get a better view of what I was reading. In response, I put the book close to my face, stopping him.

"Come on man, let me take a look!"

He whined in an annoying manner. I considered moving my seat away from this nuisance, but an announcement saved me the trouble.

"Queue number "PRIORITY" Alan, please report to the testing area." The voice was rater robotic, probably from some sort of magical contraption. I headed for the door labeled "Test Area", ignoring the protest of the annoying guy and the stares from the other people who were probably wondering why I had a "express route". Opening the the door, I stepped into a room with an old man in robes standing before me. He stared at me with a wizened and tired look, reminding me of the look of resignation Edward back at Lumious had when Blondy signed me up. It was rather nostalgic.

"I will now access your talent, start absorbing the mana from the air now!"

He boomed, raising a hand in the air for dramatic effect. Huh, it seemed the talent assessment here was rather different, a person grading the talent instead of a magical orb. I focused hard, and my core activated, sucking in mana as quickly as I could. Noticing my display, the man focused, enveloping me in his aura.

"Mid Tiered Bronze Rank!" The man declared, taking a piece of paper out of his pocket and scribbling something on it. That didn't sound too bad! I decided to ask him an important question.

"Sir, what talent does an Bronze Rank have?" I asked boldly, wanting to know what my talent currently was exactly. The man sighed.

"I honestly expected a priority queue member to be a lot stronger, you know? Boy, your talent of Bronze isn't too good, only somewhat better than the average person. You should only expect to qualify as an outer disciple."

Well honestly, that was a huge improvement from my previous D rank. He didn't mention how much of a talent Bronze rank was exactly, but I didn probe for a more specific answer, not wanting to annoy him. The robed elder pointed towards a door, not the one I entered the room from, labelled "ARENA". Perhaps it was a combat testing area?

I exited the enclosed room, stepping into a huge stadium. Staring at the two people duking it in the center and listening to the cheers of the audience, my suspicions were confirmed, just not the way I expected. I headed to a area with three empty seat, taking the seat in the center, not wanting a repeat of overly chatty neighbours.

"Contestant "Vorgue" has won against "Peunout Bartaa", advancing to rank 30!"

The fight concluded as I sat, the announcement making me chuckle. Peanut Butter was picked up by a man and carried to a door, possible leading to a treatment room. Vorgue cheered in triumph, flexing his biceps to show off in an odd display.

A few fights passed, the losers carried by the same man into the same room. I was glad to see that they weren't too injured upon failure, the man stepping up to intervene if the fight got too intense. That meant I didn't have to worry about major injuries during my turn, a huge relief to me.

"It is time for contestant "Alan" to step up!"

Hearing the announcement, I headed for the stairs between the seats and walked down into the fighting ring as the audience watched. I felt nervous as I stepped into the ring; how would I fare against a fellow contestant?