Evander knew that he was dreaming as he watched the scene in front of his eyes.

A boy, five or six years old, was digging through the garden. His silver hair was a mess as his cerulean eyes smiled. Beads of sweat flowed down his face as he chuckled. Butterflies flew around, while birds chirped. It would have been a peaceful, pristine scene if not for the cat in front of him.

The cat was mutilated. Its ears were cut off and its skin charred in many places. Blood dripped from its opened mouth. Judging by the weak mews, the cat was still barely alive.

“Mister Cat, I told you to play with me, right?” said the boy. “You should have listened to me. This is your punishment. That’s right! Punishment!”

The boy continued digging, his small hands scooping out the soil before him. As he placed the cat inside the hole, a young man ran toward him.

The young man grabbed the boy’s collar, lifting him up. “Lark! What are you doing? Didn’t I tell you to stop killing the pets?”

“Big brother?” said the boy, tilting his head. “What are you talking about? I’m just playing with the cat.” The boy smiled and Evander’s dream ended.

After waking, Evander slowly sat up in his bed. If he had known that the dream was going to be nasty, he would have cut it off right at the start.

He realized that the dream was part of the memories of his current body. He had never experienced taking over the body of another person before, though, so he was not sure.

“That’s right, I’m Lark Marcus now,” he said with a sigh.

He went to the window and swept aside the curtains. Snow continued to fall.

After the job offer was issued, he supervised the construction project at the eastern border of the town. To his surprise, the workers did not complain at all. Thankfully, there was a forest nearby so there was no shortage of wood. Some materials were left untouched due to the inclement weather, but with the help of the heat stones, the workers were able to start the construction.

Lark estimated that since these houses would eventually be assigned to the locals, they would feel motivated to work on them. Furthermore, the heat stones had greatly affected the environment. Although each stone was unable to fully eliminate the snow and the cold, it enabled the workers to continue with the construction project despite the weather.

Four days had passed since the recruitment, and it was time to assess the soldiers.

***

Qarat was crestfallen. Today was the deadline for the young master’s test to become a soldier. He had done everything he could, but only one of the three seeds grew. He stared at the plant in the pot. It was small, inconspicuous, but it was the only successful one among the three.

He shook his head. “I’m definitely going to fail the test. Maybe I should just be a farmer. The northern and western lands are barren, but the young master said that he has a way to reclaim those areas.”

Being a farmer was not a bad idea. He could plow his fields and enjoy the harvest. Unlike the other regions of the kingdom where battles frequently occurred, Blackstone Town was a relatively peaceful area. There were very few cases of armies or bandits looting the town. Being a farmer in this region was definitely safer than in other parts of the kingdom.

“But I can’t even grow a damn seed,” he berated himself. “I’m probably not suited to becoming a farmer. Being a builder might be my only choice.”

Honestly, he was after the benefits of becoming a soldier. Eleven silvers was a massive salary. He was also tempted by the offer of free meat. Although the job of a soldier involved risking his life, this was Blackstone Town—it was hardly visited by anyone. Even merchants only dropped by this place infrequently since it had nothing to offer. If not for Lion City located two days away, this town would have been isolated from the rest of the kingdom.

Qarat ran his fingers through his black disheveled hair in frustration. He really wanted to be a soldier, but his test result was obvious.

He stared again at the single plant growing in his pot. He had been living in this town for two decades now. He was sure the plant was called Cal Shrub.

It was a common plant that could grow everywhere. Although it was not as ubiquitous as Poison Cloud, it was still relatively easy to find.

An idea entered Qarat’s mind. “Since those three seeds are the same. If I just find a Cal Shrub on the ground, a small one, then plant it in the pot… Surely, the young master wouldn’t know the difference, right?”

If he managed to do that, he would definitely pass the test. After all, he would be able to meet the requirement of having three plants growing in his pot.

Qarat stood motionless inside the collapsed shack. The roof had fallen long ago due to the weight of piled up snow. Lost in his thoughts, he ignored the freezing snow falling all around him.

After some time, Qarat sighed. A puff of steam left his mouth. “Forget it. I would feel bad if I passed the test like that. If I can’t become a soldier or a farmer, I can still apply for a builder position. The young master promised.”

After steeling his resolve, Qarat wrapped his body in a thin blanket, grabbed the pot, then went to the mansion.

On his way, he noticed some of the aspiring soldiers carrying their own pots. They held them as though the pot was something precious, as though their lives depended on it.

To Qarat’s dismay, he saw some of the pots had three Cal Shrubs growing in them.

All three of their seeds grew. Damn it.

He gnashed his teeth, and tried to quell the bitterness in his heart. On arrival at the mansion, the potential soldiers once again gathered in the hall.

The young master was already there, with the old butler at his side.

Lark counted them and nodded. “Good. It seems that everyone’s here. So, how was it? Did you enjoy my little test?”

The lord was young, probably fifteen or sixteen years old, but Qarat wondered why the boy’s gaze was so full and deep, as though he held wisdom borne from decades of living. It was a stark contrast to the young master he had met a few months ago. The playful and arrogant Lark Marcus had totally vanished.

The aspiring soldiers simply nodded at the young master’s remark. Lark grinned and spread his hands. “Then let’s start the assessment.”

The butler told everyone to fall in line, while the young master grabbed a large piece of parchment. The first in line was a tall man with prominent cheekbones. He radiated confidence as he held the pot in his hands. Inside his clay pot, three Cal Shrubs grew.

The man did not even get to speak when the young master said, “Failed. Next.”

Qarat was baffled. The man had successfully grown three plants. Why did he fail? The question rattled his mind, and Qarat was sure the same question was going through everyone’s mind.

The man gulped down the lump in his throat, looking at the pot he was holding. “Young Master, what do you mean ‘failed’?”

The young master narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t you hear me? I said you failed the test.”

“But! I have grown all three seeds! Look!” The man raised the pot so the young master could see it more clearly.

“That’s the point,” said the young master. “One of those seeds is defective, dead, unable to grow. And yet you’ve grown three of them? You clearly cheated and I will not have cheaters in my personal army.”

The man froze. Qarat noticed that those who grew three plants were restless. Slowly, hope rekindled within Qarat’s heart.

The young master said that one of the seeds was defective. Then maybe the reason my other seeds didn’t grow… Qarat was soon filled with excitement. The job as a soldier might not be out of his reach after all.

“Listen, what is the most important aspect of being a soldier?” said Lark. Everyone turned silent. “Strength? Stamina? Wealth? No. It’s reliability. The rest is secondary. A soldier is not simply a killing machine, he is not a creature meant to subdue another. A soldier is someone that ensures the safety of the sovereign. If the core is rotten, so will be the body.”

A surge of heat flowed through Qarat’s chest. He could feel his heart start to pound loudly.

The most important is not strength. It’s reliability. The rest is secondary.

Those words kept resounding within Qarat’s mind.

“We can train your body. We can train your skills. We can train your spirit,” said Lark. “But we cannot train character. That’s the purpose of this test.”

One after another, the young master judged the aspiring soldiers. Soon, it was Qarat’s turn. The hairs on his arms stood up as he faced the young master. He was nervous. He simply wished he would pass.

Once I pass, I can eat meat every four days. That would be paradise.

To a commoner like him, meat was a luxury he had only dreamed of. Unless the hunter next door shared the prey he had caught, Qarat was unable to eat meat at all. Just imagining the free meat made him salivate.

“Name?” said Lark.

With a trembling voice, Qarat replied, “Q-Qarat,”

Lark looked at the pot Qarat was holding, then the parchment. He smiled and tapped Qarat’s shoulder. “You’ve passed. Congratulations.”

Hearing this, Qarat could barely suppress his happiness. He bowed his head. “Thank you, Young Master.”

The young master merely chuckled. “The training for soldiers will be harsh. Ready yourself.”

“Yes! I will do my best!”

After the assessment, out of fifteen, only nine successfully passed the exam.

Lark clapped his hands. “I will skip the formalities. Starting today, we shall begin your training.”