The train ride into the capital was, uncomfortable. Despite the fact Allen had left extremely early, every carriage was completely full of other potential students with suitcases and in many cases, parents. It had been over two hundred years since the testing became mandatory, and Allen didn’t want to think about how hard it would have been before the invention of cars and trains. Considering there was only one academy in the entire country, tens of thousands of eighteen year olds were descending onto the capital on the same day. Only a very small percentage of them would be staying however. The testing was a huge public affair, and it was the closest most people would ever come to the academy itself. That meant it attracted what his mother would called the crazies. The crowds of people who came out every year just to watch and cheer on what they thought of as their nations strength. The tube was even worse, with everyone going in the same direction. Most people could not afford, or make, their own storage items either. That meant the majority were dragging along suitcases and other bags, prepared for the unlikely event they would need to stay behind. Stepping out of the tube at King James station, Allen simply waited. He probably could have gotten out ahead of most of the crowd, none of them were moving with any great speed. But in truth there was no rush for any of them. Even after spending so long talking to his mother, Allen had still made it this far before 8am. That meant even if he entered the back of the queue now, he would still be one of the first tested when compared to the nation as a whole. Given the entire event was usually broadcast live on the news channels every year, Allen was well aware that people would continue to show up late into the evening. As the station finally started to quiet down, he started up the stairs, swiping his ID card on the way through. Reaching the street there was no need to look for directions, the mass of crowds all moving the same way made it fairly apparent where his destination was. While the King James station was closest, it was still a twenty minute walk to the academy square for most people. Not that Allen was most people. Only five minutes later he stepped into the back of a frankly ridiculous line. Ahead he could see people wearing actual sleep wear, implying they had physically camped outside in order to be near the front. He truly hoped those people got in, because otherwise there was no way it would be worth it. The entire square was full of excited chatter, with crowds gathered behind those cheap metal barriers which had been lined up all the way around. He could already see the flashing of cameras, as well as a few obvious TV reporters. The entire thing was insane. Strong cultivators were the ultimate celebrities, especially if they were loyal to your House or the royal family. The ones who were strong enough to join the royal House were almost always on the front page of newspapers, usually for something that normal people would consider embarrassing. Reporters therefore lined up every year in the vague hope they could catch a picture of the next Victoria Simms or Daniel Ward. They did the same thing at the monthly tournaments, and you would often see character pieces and interviews with students who would go on to be nothing more than guards and muscle for Lords around the country. Very few made it into the royal House, and aside from a couple of carefully selected spokes people, they did not do interviews. It was a completely different lifestyle to what Allen was used to, with hours of quiet meditation, disciplined martial arts practise and general hard work. Allen, and the thousands in front of him, stood for over an hour as the line got slowly longer and longer, with huge groups arriving every fifteen to twenty minutes. Finally as the clocks ticked over to nine, a man in ornate red and golden robes stepped up onto the giant platform in front of the river.

“Greetings and welcome to another year of testing. Gathered here today we have our countries newest adults, who have been given the opportunity to come to see if they are worthy of the training our royal academy can provide. Whether they have the talent or not, I am sure all of them will go on to serve my father and our kingdom loyally.”

The man paused as a massive round of applause sounded out around the square. Allen wasn’t actually sure he had said anything worth cheering yet, but made a token effort so as not to stand out.

“When I step away, the academy team will begin the process of testing. For those that have been blessed with the talent, know that the academy will not be easy. You will work hard but if you are loyal and give your all, the King may raise you to the ranks of our cultivator elite.”

Allen rolled his eyes as the man continued to waffle on. There was a lot of talk about winning the Kings favour, earning the right to be a cultivator. He knew it was mostly his fathers fault, but why people were allowed to believe only selected people could become a cultivator was beyond him. Even now he could see the tester, a tacky monster made of gold and covered in gems, mounted up on the stand behind the peacock talking. His father had built one out of wood when Allen was 8. An accident had caused him to damage his foot meridian and the device was built to hold his meridians open while his father cycled healing mana through his body. The fact a cheap healing aid was now the sole decider on if a person could become a cultivator or not was the kind of insanity Allen firmly believed could only come from his fathers brain.

“Now, let us begin this years testing.” Called out the peacock, waking Allen from his daydream. Apparently he had missed the entire speech. The man, who must have said his name but Allen hadn’t heard it, disappeared from the stage to huge applause around the crowd. People were cheering, screaming out in celebration as the first girl, looking absolutely terrified, stumbled up onto the stage. Allen was too far away to hear, but he did watch as she clumsily pulled off her shoes and socks before stepping onto the frame. The entire golden device lit up, shining across the entire square. But then, nothing happened. The girl didn’t react and only a small shake of his head from the staff member sitting by the side made it clear this girl didn’t have a future within the academy walls. For all her nerves going into the test, she looked suddenly thrilled, practically skipping back over to her shoes and socks before carrying them off with her.

“Honour of the royal academy indeed.” Allen muttered under his breath as the next person made their way up onto the stage.

Hours passed, and out of what must have been nearly a thousand students, so far only three had been found to have the talent, as it was called. Allen had never been so bored in his life. He briefly tried to make conversation with the people around him, except it was readily apparent they had nothing in common. The girl behind him was terrified, clinging to her mother who looked equally scared. He had barely gotten out a hello before she squeaked and turned her face away. The boy in front was far more interested in his phone and had responded with what essentially had been a dismissal. Having grown up on a farm Allan spent a lot of time around animals, nearly all of which had better manners. With socialising being a dead end, he had opted instead for simply watching the proceedings. Finally it was his turn, the rude phone addict having just been told he would be going home. Slipping off his shoes and socks, Allen pulled them into his storage ring and walked up to the tester. That set of numerous conversations in the audience, at least those that were paying attention, but he didn’t have any intention of hiding the fact he came from cultivator parents. In fact he was going to lean on that quite heavily, as it gave him an excise to ignore any particularly bad lessons. The gold was not surprisingly cold against his bare skin, but he ignored it. Retracting all his own mana into his dantian’s, Allen waited for the device to activate. As soon as he felt the foreign mana he let it seep into his hand meridians before funnelling out the stomach meridian. The mana from this tester was weak, coming from a novice level cultivator and cycled through the machine and countless people over and over again. Given how close Allen was to ascending a tier, the last thing he wanted was corrupted mana damaging his ascension. Gradually the device faded, and a man stepped forward and raised Allen’s hand into the air. Like he had just won a prize fight. The crowd though loved it, whooping and cheering like they had for all the other cultivators. Allen gave them a genuine smile. For better or worse, he was now on his own path.