Meng Jun returned to the command center, where a real-time map of the entire competition area was clearly visible.

To ensure the competition proceeded smoothly, five divisions had been mobilized to stand guard. Over ten Grandmasters and nearly 70,000 soldiers had locked down the area, and the entire process was being kept strictly confidential.

Besides, Honglian was watching from above.

"Mr. Meng, you done? Has it started yet?"

A bald man in sunglasses was lounging in a chair, a pile of empty liquor bottles at his feet. In his hand, he held a lit Wan Jun brand cigarette—a special blend supplied only to Grandmasters.

Meng Jun waved his hand, and the smoke filling the room billowed out the window. "Could you try to act like a Division Commander?" he said, displeased. "We’re here on a mission. You really think this is a vacation?"

"What? You mean this isn’t a vacation?" The man scoffed. "We have this many people watching a bunch of greenhorns. What could possibly go wrong? Besides, things have been quiet on the front lines lately. I’d like to see anyone dare to make a move. Hah!"

Meng Jun ignored him and walked over to the screen. A large cluster of blue dots was moving slowly across it, their destination: Base 105.

This pursuit assessment required every candidate to wear a Ghost Core. Originally designed for military Scouts, the device could track the wearer’s position in real time, monitor their vital signs, and record everything happening around them. It also included a function to call for aid or forfeit the match.

The prodigies didn’t know the Ghost Cores could monitor their every move; they believed the devices were only for identification and emergency alerts. That part had been concealed from them.

The rules were clear: if anyone discarded their Ghost Core, they would be disqualified on the spot.

On the map, the members of two reinforced regiments were marked in red. They lay in wait at the base, awaiting the order to start.

The goal of the assessment was to screen the prodigies for their strength and adaptability, but under no circumstances would their lives be put in danger.

These prodigies were like blank slates. They hadn’t yet undergone systematic training to develop their own fighting styles. The current goal was simply to test the limits of their potential and identify any character flaws.

The data from the prodigies’ Ghost Cores would ultimately be transferred to the universities that accepted them, allowing the schools to use it to develop their teaching programs.

The terrain for the second stage had been meticulously selected, finally settling on a landscape shaped like a bottleneck gourd. Viewed from above, the wide base of the gourd was the Yellow Sand River, a plain roughly 80 kilometers long and 40 kilometers wide. The plain was nothing but endless sand, with no cover whatsoever.

The first choke point of the "gourd" was Guye Ridge. This mountain range retained an extremely primitive topography, making movement difficult. It was also teeming with poisonous insects that had been specially bred and released there. Their venom was potent enough to incapacitate a second-realm Martial Artist. Even an Inner Qi Martial Artist, if they were careless enough to be bitten, would have to stop to purge the poison.

The third area was Cyan Creek Valley. Flanked by steep cliffs that were difficult to traverse, the valley floor was narrow, making it an ideal ambush point.

Finally, there was Base 105, located in Firefly Forest.

According to the rules they’d established, the pursuers would not follow the candidates into Firefly Forest. However, the forest was littered with a large number of trigger-activated spiderweb traps. These devices were normally used to capture mutated beasts in the borderlands, and he was certain that any candidate who tripped one would be completely unable to escape.

Thirty minutes passed. Meng Jun noticed that a few figures were already approaching Guye Ridge.

Meng Jun couldn’t help but remark, "Such impressive Body Techniques. But they shouldn’t underestimate Jiao Yu and his men!"

"Move out!"

At Jiao Yu’s command, countless combat vehicles roared out of the military grounds like savage beasts. Sixteen low-altitude vortex transports shot into the sky like lightning, streaking toward Cyan Creek Valley.

The low-altitude vortex transports could reach speeds of over five thousand kilometers per hour—faster than even a Grandmaster could fly. They were typically reserved for emergency wartime support.

The sixteen transports carried sixty-four Martial Artists. Jiao Yu and Luu Yuxin had already planned their strategy. Jiao Yu would lead two Gang Qi Realm Martial Artists and a group of fourth and fifth-realm Martial Artists—those with the strongest sniping and perception abilities—to seal off the "pocket" at Cyan Creek Valley.

Soldiers at the third-realm and below would ride in the combat vehicles, sweeping through Yellow Sand River like a fine-toothed comb to either eliminate the prodigies or drive them toward Guye Ridge. Meanwhile, Luu Yuxin would lead the remaining Inner Qi Martial Artists, formed into standard combat squads, to repeatedly hunt down any lucky survivors on Guye Ridge.

The goal was to leave no one standing.

Yu Fei sprinted across the yellow sands, carefully studying the map in his hand as he ran. He needed to commit the entire terrain to memory, in case he lost the map and ended up stranded.

The prodigies had been allowed to choose from four items. There was an optional primary weapon appropriate for their cultivation realm, the Ghost Core that confirmed their identity and sent emergency alerts, and a map. In addition, they all wore a standard-issue combat suit with a built-in smart monitoring core. If the suit registered a simulated, overwhelming blow, the wearer would be automatically disqualified.

Other than that, there was nothing. No supplies whatsoever.

That meant they had to reach Guye Ridge as quickly as possible to find water and food.

Martial Artists were still human. Under normal circumstances, a second-realm Martial Artist could probably survive a three-hundred-kilometer trek without food or water. But with the high consumption of Qi Blood this trial demanded, it was impossible.

The sun hung high in the sky. With each breath, faint wisps of Yang Qi from the air entered his circulatory system. Refined by his Primordial Yang Fire, the Qi transformed into motes of golden light that were absorbed by his body, easing his fatigue.

This was an ability he’d gained after reaching the initial stage of his Pure Yang True Body. In places rich with Yang Qi, he could recover his stamina. The effect was faint, but it was the only form of replenishment he had, and it was just enough to allow him to keep pace with the group of third-realm Martial Artists ahead.