After securing her spot as a substitute, Mu Ningxue finally breathed a sigh of relief, though she was still feeling quite weak.
At this moment, Mo Fan walked over to her side and supported her arm.
Seeing that it was Mo Fan, Mu Ningxue didn't shake him off.
"Need my help?" Mo Fan asked.
"Help me?" Mu Ningxue was a bit puzzled.
"The grudge from Ancient Capital—I can help you with that," Mo Fan added.
"You don't understand," Mu Ningxue shook her head. Though she hadn't been to the Ancient Capital, she knew that the siege of a million undead, and the near swallowing of the city by the Abyss, was masterminded in part by her own uncle. Her clan, the Mu Clan, had no way to deal with this.
"Why wouldn't I understand? If you come with me to the Ancient Capital now and tell everyone there that you're my wife, I bet no one will hold any grudges against you," Mo Fan replied.
Mu Ningxue gave Mo Fan a sharp look, thinking, Is this guy crazy? Even at a time like this, he was still trying to take advantage of her? Slightly softening their relationship, Mu Ningxue pushed Mo Fan's hand away and, with a cold "No need," left.
As for what Mo Fan had said, Mu Ningxue didn't believe a single word. In that kind of situation, even super-level mages couldn't do anything—what could Mo Fan possibly do?
"What a stubborn woman," Mo Fan muttered, his mouth twitching slightly.
"Ha! Got rejected while trying to show off, huh?" Mu Ningxue's departure didn't escape the sharp eyes of Mu Nu Jiao, who teased him with a hint of jealousy.
"Heh, Jiao Jiao, you know about Ningxue's situation. Seeing her pushing herself so hard again, I just wanted to help her out," Mo Fan explained, clearly forgetting that Mu Nu Jiao was also in the team.
"Who would believe you?"
Mu Nu Jiao shot him a glare, then turned around and left without looking back.
Mo Fan wanted to catch up and explain, but before he could get close, Mu Nu Jiao whipped up a gust of wind and left in a huff! Clearly, she was upset.
Mo Fan sighed helplessly. He was starting to think that helping Mu Nu Jiao get stronger wasn't the best idea after all. Maybe she was better off staying in the national pavilion!
As Mo Fan was left behind by both Mu Ningxue and Mu Nu Jiao, the other men in the team frowned.
It was obvious that Mo Fan was quite familiar with both girls! Especially Guan Yu, who was practically gnashing his teeth. Mo Fan had grabbed Mu Ningxue's arm earlier, and she hadn't even resisted! How could someone as proud as Guan Yu tolerate that?
Still, since he didn't know much about Mo Fan, Guan Yu held on to a sliver of rationality and refrained from acting rashly.
With Mu Ningxue now a substitute, and Zhao Manyan joining as another substitute, the team finally embarked on their ascetic training journey. As for Zhao Manyan, everyone sneered at him. Who didn't know that Zhao Manyan, with his family background, only made it here because his family had money?
Thankfully, Mo Fan was an official team member, or Zhao Manyan's life would have been much more miserable.
"Alright, everyone's here," the lead instructor, Feng Li, with his tiger tattoo, walked over, casting his gaze over the twelve participants—ten official members and two substitutes.
"Your ultimate goal is to participate in the Venice World Academic Competition, a contest between the national academies. This training journey isn't just about giving you more combat experience and magical insight; you also need to earn a ticket to the Venice competition. Nearly two hundred countries participate in this event, but not every country qualifies to appear in Venice," Feng Li declared, his voice powerful.
After Feng Li, the other instructors also explained the process.
There was no grand send-off ceremony, and no one outside their team knew when the national team would begin their journey. The identities of the participants were not publicly revealed, not even which individuals were selected. This was the same for every country. Only when the Venice competition officially kicked off would these national competitors be introduced to the world!
This was a way to protect the national competitors.
Although there were international agreements in place to ensure that national team members were protected wherever they went, it was still better not to make their identities public. Once their names were revealed, they could become targets, and that would be a disadvantage to them.
After this briefing, they were loaded onto a plane and left the capital.
At first, everyone thought they were being taken directly to another country, but instead, they were dumped in a remote wilderness, surrounded by a tranquil blue sky and gentle waters.
The coast was lined with jagged rocks where white waves playfully splashed—not the kind of violent waves that crash against cliffs, but soft, teasing caresses.
Next to the rocky coast, there was a small sandy beach with a few old, simple wooden fishing boats.
Though the boats seemed primitive and old-fashioned, they were vital for the local fishermen. A few families' livelihoods depended entirely on these boats. Yet the waves could be mischievous, constantly forcing the fishermen to tie and retie their ropes!
Looking at the scene before them, the team felt an undeniable sense of frustration.
Though they all knew that competing in Venice would bring immense rewards, seeing this landscape filled them with a sense of despair.
All their identities had been frozen, their bank accounts were frozen too, and after being dropped off, the instructors left them with nothing but their outfits and a change of clothes.
Their first mission? To cross the sea and sneak into the Sakura country's national pavilion for their first set of challenges and training.
"What do we do now?" Zhao Manyan groaned, his mouth twitching.
Honestly, when had the great Young Master Zhao ever suffered like this before?
The thought of surviving in such a miserable place, not to mention the hardships of living in the wild in the future, was unbearable for him. If not for the prospect of gaining immense power and influence, he would have quit right then and there.
"We should head to the nearest village and see if there's a port nearby. We'll figure things out from there," Ai Jiangtu suggested.
No one had any objections to this, so the group of twelve began making their way toward the small fishing village.
The village wasn't far, and after passing through a flimsy grass fence, they saw a dozen or so old houses made of wood and stone. The houses, weathered by years of sea winds, looked damp and dark.
As the group of twelve marched into the village, they were immediately outnumbered the villagers. A few mud-covered children squatting by the doors had likely never seen so many well-dressed and handsome young men and women before. Their eyes blinked in curiosity, but as the group got closer, they scurried back into their houses, peeking through the windows, torn between curiosity and fear.
Not long after they entered the village, a dark-skinned old man wearing wooden clogs rushed out. Wielding a large oar used for rowing, he shouted angrily, "You bastards again? Don't think you can bully us just because we're poor and uneducated! Let me tell you, this old man isn't to be trifled with!"
The old fisherman took a firm stance, his sharp eyes full of spirit, and gripped the oar tightly, ready to fight them off.
(End of Chapter)