“If you don’t want to get cut into pieces, then give us all your valuables,” the head of the bandits, a six-and-half foot tall man, was smiling confidently as Edgar approached.
Edgar put the ale case down and said, “There’s ale inside. This is all I can give.”
“A few jars of ale won’t even last a night for us. Give us money. And of course, any and all valuables that you got.”
“I can’t,” Edgar was blunt. “If you don’t like it, then let’s fight.”
“Huh?” the bandits were surprised by his straightforwardness that came across as being more reckless. Why is this brat not afraid of the weapons they were wielding? Surely, he wasn’t thinking that these weapons were just for show, or was he?
“Don’t get my brother wrong, rowdy brot
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WHIT 68 - THE GREAT GATE
“We’ve arrived,” at dawn, the driver’s voice reached Edgar’s ears.He woke Fabby up. The side of her forehead was injured, so it was covered with bandages.Both of them got down at what seemed like in the middle of a long arching road. On the right side of it was forest, but on the left side was what seemed like a mountain with an opening like that of a cave.“Is this the way?” Edgar asked to confirm.“Yes, sir,” the driver replied. His whole face was swollen from the beating he had received from Edgar. After the bullet barely missed Fabby, seeing her fall down, Edgar rampaged and thrashed the three bandits, especially the driver. If the driver hadn’t said that the bullet missed and his sister was still alive, h
WHIT 69 - ENTRANCE EXAM
Edgar and Fabby entered the massive cave. After going a couple hundred meters in, the tunnel was lit by fire lamps on either side, so they kept walking without getting worried too much. After covering about two miles, they reached a huge gate that was blocking the whole path. And two guards were waiting. “State your identity,” one of the guards smashed the base of the spear on the ground. “We’re from Vedi, but we’ve got a recommendation letter to join the sect,” Edgar took out the scroll. “Recommendation?” the guards looked at each other and laughed. “Don’t you know that our sect doesn’t take in recommendations?” “What?” Edgar and Fabby’s jaws slackened. “B-but…” For a secon
WHIT 70 - TOO HARD
The second round was taking place in rooms, with the participants using their brains to answer the list of questions. Everyone seemed involved, except for one fellow, whose pen wasn’t moving all that much. “What is this? No one told me there’d be a written test.” This participant’s eyes bulged out as he tried his hardest to understand the questions, so much so that the red nerves had become visible. This person was Edgar. He looked at Fabby, who sat beside him in the next column. Unlike him, she was scribbling like a poet in flow. “Just what’s she writing? She didn’t touch a book for many years.” Edgar couldn’t help but murmur in frustration. “Shh!” the examiner signaled Edg
WHIT 71 - FOLLOW
Hundreds queued in front of a house, and one was entering into the house after another. The third round was taking place inside. “I wonder what’s happening in there,” Edgar tried to peek through whenever the curtains parted, but he couldn’t see much. “Don’t think too much,” Fabby reminded him. “Even if we fail in the third round, we’ll still become foot disciples it seems.” “I don’t know what the difference between a foot disciple or an outer disciple is, but clearly the latter is better than the former, so of course, I don’t want to spoil this opportunity.” Fabby didn’t say anything. (After the second round, his confidence has taken a dent. I guess I’ll just let him be.) S
WHIT 72 - REWARD
More than a thousand people gathered at the northern end of the Great Grove in front of a big stage.On the stage were dozens of examiners who watched over the entrance exams. Dubril Zha was also among them.“I’m Ruth Raj. A master of the sect as most of you already had guessed.” One of them, the one with a black hat and a cloth wrapped around his face, was talking with the audience, “More than 15,000 people participated this year, but only a little over 1300 passed. Out of those, only 232 people became outer disciples, and the rest became foot disciples. This year’s pass rate isn’t great, but it isn’t that bad either. Now, we will reward the one who did best overall in the three rounds combined.” He then read out a name. “Fabby Ecstasio. Please come onto the stage and receive your reward.”
WHIT 73 - THE GREAT CHEEK
After coming out of the indoor testing grounds, the first vast location one would enter into was the Great Cheek, where all the foot disciples would stay.Foot disciples were the lowest level disciples who wouldn’t receive any martial techniques or beast cores from the sect. They weren’t allowed to go to the library either. And they had to live in rooms of at least two. The room numbers were initially drawn by the lottery, but later on, one was allowed to change their rooms within the first month.Every foot disciple was allowed to stay a decade in the Great Cheek, and if they still failed to become an outer disciple, they’d be kicked out of the sect.Edgar was humbled by the vastness of the lands and the tens of thousands of foot disciples living in that region that was easily tens of times larger
WHIT 74 - THE TEAM
“Oi, wake up. Hey!” Some words woke Edgar up. The orange-haired boy was sitting in the chair next to Edgar’s bed, eating peas. He was a bit shorter and much leaner than Edgar. His skin was also on the darker side. “Finally, you’ve been sleeping for like two days. I thought you were dead or something.” “You’re…” “Ah, right,” he was tapping his thighs. “I’m Bontu. Bontu Das. And you are...” “Edgar.” “Okay, Edgar. You should bathe and get ready.” “For what?” “What else? Work. All of us can start from today.” “Do we have to work?”
WHIT 75 - WHAT NEEDS TO BE DONE
Diver landed on an outwardly extended rock on a cliff that was at a height of about eleven hundred meters above the mount. There was a board nearby that read ‘Boar Woods.’ In front were tall sturdy trees. They could only see one boar in the distance, and it was feeding on a dead deer. “So, we have to kill boars, huh,” Edgar had a guess. “I wish I got a different mission,” replied Fabby, “but everyone has to pick their first ever mission through the lottery it seems. And I got this.” Edgar was observing the boar. “How many should we kill?” “At least six, but not more than ten,” said Fabby, sounding sad. “There’s an upper limit, too?” Edgar was surprised. “Otherwise, the disci