As expected, the first round resulted in injuries, and cowards like Morrison quickly turned tail.
"I won't participate in such a barbaric test!" they cried.
"You expect us to endure arrows piercing our bodies? What if we become crippled? Can you take responsibility for our lives? I don’t know what kind of test this is, but I’m giving up here."
"I’m quitting too. I’m not some noble from the central government, and I don’t want to risk my life for Roman Dmitri."
One after another, people declared their intention to quit.
Even as some grumbled about wasting their time, Chris didn’t reprimand them.
Before the test began, Roman had instructed him not to force anyone.
He wasn’t looking for half-hearted individuals who were only interested in the rewards Kevin had received.
He needed people who would show genuine loyalty.
Even after filtering out the unworthy, betrayal was still a human trait.
But by testing their basic qualities, Roman could quickly identify those worth investing time in.
The test continued.
Over a hundred people had left the testing grounds, but not everyone had given up.
"Henderson," a man from Lawrence stepped forward.
Though he was just an ordinary commoner with little experience risking his life, he clenched his teeth, his face trembling with fear.
Truthfully, he wanted to quit like the others.
But every time he recalled how Roman had punished Blood Fang for tormenting his people, Henderson reminded himself of why he had decided to take this test.
Just once, he wanted to swear loyalty to someone like Roman.
It wasn’t about achieving something grand—just hearing Roman’s stories made his blood boil with passion.
"One shot," the archer nocked an arrow.
Despite having seen the bloodshed in the previous round, Henderson stood calmly, his face pale but resolute.
The archer smirked and let the arrow fly.
Thunk!
"... Huff."
Henderson took a deep breath.
The arrow had struck just five centimeters from his face.
His heart pounded, and for a moment, he considered quitting.
But before he could speak, the archer nocked another arrow.
"Two shots."
It was too late to back out now.
The second arrow flew before he could react.
Thunk!
"Three shots."
Thunk!
In an instant, it was over.
When the final arrow landed safely, Henderson’s legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground, sweat pouring down his forehead.
As he looked up, Chris indifferently announced, "Henderson, pass."
It was a test he never wanted to take again.
The number of passers was higher than expected.
Out of 400 applicants, 120 passed the first test.
Most, like Henderson, trembled with fear, but some confidently breezed through the trial.
The passers gathered, and Roman stepped forward.
"You’ve passed the first test. You’ve proven your worth as warriors, but I only intend to recruit 30. Therefore, there will be a second test to further evaluate you."
In truth, Roman had already judged who was more capable.
Someone like Lucas, who had smiled through the test, was clearly more valuable than Henderson, who had trembled in fear.
Their martial skills were also worlds apart.
But to Roman, the difference wasn’t significant.
What mattered was that Henderson had stayed in place despite his fear, enduring the three arrows.
The first test was about courage—the ability to suppress fear.
Everyone feels fear.
What impressed Roman more than someone numb to fear was someone who could endure it.
And the people gathered here each had their own reasons for coming.
Some, like Henderson, had been deeply moved by Roman’s actions in Lawrence.
Others, like Lucas, were drawn by rumors and curiosity.
Some simply liked the conditions of becoming a private soldier.
Roman didn’t care about their motives or their martial prowess.
He was looking for those born with the heart of a beast, those who would feel awe, not fear, when facing him.
Martial skill wasn’t the absolute criterion.
Lucas might have the qualifications of a B-rank mercenary, but Roman believed he could train soldiers like him at any time.
The real question was whether to accept Lucas and make him stronger or to take Henderson and nurture him step by step.
Roman surveyed the applicants.
Those like Lucas exuded confidence in their passing, while others seemed less assured.
What Roman wanted to test now was their attitude toward him.
Only those who could feel awe, not fear, when facing him directly could dream of a future by his side.
When meeting Kevin or Chris, Roman had always proven his worth the same way.
In a world of survival of the fittest, sweet words weren’t enough to dominate.
Visible strength was necessary.
Roman sought blind loyalty, as he always had.
"Now, we’ll proceed with the second test. The method is simple. Prove your worth by sparring with me. I don’t expect you to win. If you can last even a minute against me, you’ll pass, and your conditions will be improved."
Roman’s declaration was utterly arrogant.
At first, everyone was stunned.
There were 120 people to test.
Even if Roman only spent a minute on each, the test would take two hours.
And yet, he claimed that lasting a minute would be enough to pass.
The crowd reacted with disbelief.
If this was just empty boasting, they couldn’t help but feel disappointed in Roman.
"I’ll go first," a man stepped forward confidently.
He was a mercenary, nearly two meters tall, his face scarred from countless battles.
He had passed the first test with ease and was offended by Roman’s arrogance.
"Lasting just a minute to pass? Roman Dmitri’s confidence is through the roof. If he really defeated Blood Fang alone, he must be strong. But taking me down in a minute? Impossible. I’ll prove my worth by being the first to pass."
He stood before Roman.
The difference in their builds was stark, and the crowd alternated their gazes between the two.
"Take your sword," Chris tossed him a wooden practice sword.
Compared to the man’s massive frame, it looked like a toy.
"Begin."
At the signal, the man lunged forward, his muscles rippling.
He had no intention of merely lasting a minute.
Even if Roman might become his master, he needed to make an impression.
There was no mercy in his strike.
The crowd expected Roman to be overwhelmed.
But then—whoosh—a gust of wind.
Roman’s head tilted slightly as the sword passed by, his movements so light they seemed unnatural.
Chris shuddered.
Having faced Roman before, he knew how threatening it was to nullify an attack with a single step.
The man’s face froze in panic.
He tried to recover and strike again, but before he could react, his vision spun.
Thud! Crash!
"Ugh!" Roman had swept his leg.
The man’s balance was gone, and his heavy frame crashed to the ground.
Before he could even look up, Roman’s wooden sword was at his throat.
"Next."
Only then did the crowd realize this test might be harder than the first.
They thought that even if Roman was strong, by the 60th round, his stamina would be drained, and passers would start to appear.
So, they delayed their turns, hoping to secure a passing title.
But the results defied their expectations.
"... This is unbelievable."
The 60th challenger fell just as quickly.
The crowd rubbed their eyes, unable to believe what they were seeing.
"Is Roman a monster?"
Sixty matches.
Sixty defeats.
None lasted even 30 seconds, let alone a minute.
Even those who prided themselves on their skills were left staring at the sky, dazed.
The rumors were true.
Roman Dmitri was a powerhouse who had single-handedly defeated Blood Fang.
There was no trace of the fool he was once called.
His dominating presence, overwhelming strength, and charisma that gripped their hearts showed exactly what kind of man Roman was.
As he had said earlier, Roman was a predator.
In a world of survival of the fittest, he was someone who could decide his own fate.
The crowd’s hearts raced.
Looking at Roman, they felt his words might truly come to pass.
"If you pass this test and become my people, you’ll live as predators, deciding your own fates. I, Roman Dmitri, promise you that much."
The promise of living autonomously was sweeter than anything else in this world.
The crowd faced reality.
From that moment, their eyes turned serious.
"I must pass this test. Becoming Roman’s person might be the opportunity of a lifetime."
Instinct told them to grab the rope dangling from the sky.
While Roman was still seen as Dmitri’s fool, now was the perfect time to climb onto the back of a hidden dragon.
"Next."
"Yes, I’ll go."
The 61st challenger, Lucas, stepped onto the stage.