1032 Meaning of the Formation Scores
After a bit more discussion regarding this matter, John and company were dismissed from the Yang Throne Room, as the Prime Shadow indicated he had some secret matters to discuss with the Yang Sovereign and Mage Sovereign.
John followed the same elder that led them into the Yang Throne Room, who escorted them out of the building. The elder gave John a curious glance as they left, moving back towards the Yang-Sphere. Escorted by Naelia once more, the group swiftly made their way back to their original location.
Unlike moments ago, when Naelia had been a complete mess on the verge of a mental breakdown, she was like another person altogether. She looked at John with complete and unfettered awe, as if she was staring at some sort of otherworldly deity.
“That was the first time I’ve ever met the Yang-Sovereign in person,” Naelia exclaimed, with overwhelming excitement on her face and in her voice. “He was like a god, so powerful that I couldn’t even see his limits…and yet….and yet….your master showed up with an even more impressive aura, and silenced the Sword-Saint himself. The SWORD-SAINT! One of the five strongest humans in the world, and he was silenced like a child! Just who is your master…just who are you?”
Naelia rambled nonstop, rambling off a million questions throughout her monologue. She kept speaking after each question, leaving John no time to answer, not that he would have in the first place. She took a deep breath after rambling for so long, then paused for long enough for John to enjoy this rare moment of silence.
That silence was broken a moment later, causing John to breathe in deeply, then sigh.
“When I saw your test results, I thought you cheated. I mean, everyone would have thought the same. Even the Sword-Saint thought the same. To think you didn’t cheat. How is that possible? You didn’t cheat, did you? I mean, the scores are impossible after all, but then again, we weren’t punished, so…?” Naelia rambled, eyes glued to John with both awe and skepticism the entire time, as if she didn’t know how to feel about him just yet.
“No, I didn’t cheat,” John said flatly as they arrived before the Yang-Sphere entrance and stepped inside.
“So those scores are all legitimate?” Naelia gaped. “Then how strong are you? I mean, you must be impossibly strong for those scores to be valid.”
“I’m pretty strong I guess,” John shrugged while rolling his eyes, his vague answer causing Naelia to pout with disappointment.
Zuri smiled at the clash of opposite personalities between John and Naelia, finding that the real way to beat a heaven-defying genius like John was to bore him to death with rambling conversation.
“Still, all those one hundreds you received. I didn’t think getting one was possible, let alone that many!” Naelia said a moment later. John gave her a sideways glance, her words piquing his interest.
“What do the scores mean anyways?” John asked curiously. “I have some guesses, but I don’t know if they’re right or not.”
“You don’t know?” Naelia asked, tiling her head to the side with surprise. She quickly remembered John’s lack of knowledge regarding this tournament, which she found more and more strange considering his testing results.
“Those testing formations have been in use for tens of thousands of years,” Naelia said, starting another barrage of excited rambling. “Over the tens of thousands of years, millions, maybe even billions, of geniuses have been tested, and their results recorded by the formation. Using this historical data, the formation assigns a percentile-based score on how one does compared to everyone else who had ever taken the test. The scores range from one to one hundred, with a score of fifty meaning you are completely average,” Naelia said, pausing to make sure John was following along, then gave him a very pointed look as if to emphasize a point.
“And a score of one hundred means you at the very least equaled the best result ever for that category, and maybe even beat it. Getting a one hundred means you are the absolute pinnacle genius for that category over the last tens of thousands of years,” she said, then fell silent as if awaiting John’s reply.
“That’s what I figured the scores meant,” John nodded a moment later, understanding why the Naelia and the Sword-Saint considered cheating the only reasonable answer to his scores. Naelia started rambling excitedly once more, asking a million questions that would never be answered.
John ignored her ramblings, his mind focused elsewhere.
ραndαsnοvεl.cοm ‘My worst score by far was the battle art category, where I received a seventy-five out of one hundred. That means out of everyone who has ever taken that test, twenty five percent of them had better battle arts at their disposal. My memory of the trial is a bit hazy, but I know I used the Dragontail Decimation, and yet my score is still so low. With me creating my own battle arts going forward, I’m not too concerned about having a low score right now, but that does mean one thing I’ll need to consider during this tournament, and that’s I’ll be fighting against geniuses who are using battle arts far stronger than my own.’
A smile appeared on John’s face a moment later, his eyes filled with battle lust.
‘It seems like this tournament might be more challenging than I had initially expected. Good. It’s been quite some time since I’ve had a good battle!’
…
The Sword-Saint flung the door before him open, as if it was an enemy in his way. He stepped into the room with angered haste, a frown of simmering anger lingering on his face. The room he entered was the one he had left in sudden haste upon finding out about John’s score.
As he strode in, his actions caused Lilian to lift her head and look towards the Sword-Saint. She studied his expression for a moment, then smiled lightly, returning her focus to the tome in her hand a moment later. She was lounging sideways on a comfortable silken sofa in one corner of the large, luxurious room, her upper body resting at an angle against the end of the sofa. Her long blue and white dress draped off the sofa, making her look like a resting fairy of divine beauty.
She was studying a high-level battle art provided to her by the Sword-Dao Sect, which was a condition of her bet between her and the Sword-Saint; that she would agree to marry the winner of the tournament, in exchange for being showered with cultivation resources in the meantime.
On a similar sofa opposite her, another person wearing the pure-white robes of the Sword-Dao Sect sat. Unlike Lilian who was lounging sideways on the sofa, indulging in its silken comfort, this figure was sitting upright, his posture firm. It was a young man who appeared to be around twenty. He had long radiant white hair which flowed past his shoulders. His face was sharp and incredibly handsome, as if each and every feature was handcrafted by a master sculptor. His eyebrows were curved and sharp, like twin sabers over his bright green eyes.
His eyes were closed as if deep in thought, one hand raised before his chest, fingers straight like a sword, adding to his sharp and serious aura. A soft, hymn-like sound came from his mouth as he hummed some sort of mantra. Swords of Qi appeared and disappeared in the air around him, as if summoned by his hymn.
His eyes remained closed as the Sword-Saint strode loudly into the room, and only opened when directly addressed by the Sword-Saint himself. The youth’s eyes turned calmly to look at the Sword-Saint, studying his face for a moment.
“What has you so upset, father?” the youth asked calmly.
“You’re going to enter the preliminary elimination trial, Ji’Han,” the Sword-Saint said to his son with a firm tone. “And during that trial, you are going to mercilessly crush someone for the whole world to witness.”