Chapter 3125: Soldier and Superior

The reward was not just a reward.

It was a ceremony, and every Dark Magus had to go through it.

The thousand selected candidates marched toward a cave mouth ringed with guards, its walls stained black by centuries of smoke and something less pleasant. A weathered stone plaque above the entrance named the place.

The Gu Sacred Hive.

Ethan had heard about it. When the Occulus abandoned its old homeland, the faction had moved it’s entire structure, brood by brood, and painstakingly rebuilt it in its new territory. Somewhere deep inside lived millions of Gu, representing more than a thousand different species.

A dozen figures in ceremonial robes came forward to speak with Harrow.

The Archons, caretakers of the Gu, carried themselves with an air of quiet authority.

After exchanging a few words with Harrow, the Archons led the candidates into a long hall. Its walls were honeycombed with thousands of small holes, each serving as a nest for an ant-like Gu with a glossy carapace and restless feelers. Some crawled restlessly within their cavities, while others remained motionless, their tiny bodies gleaming under the dim light.

"These are Soldier Gu," the eldest Archon announced.

There were two dozens subtypes, each possessing distinct strengths, elemental affinities, and physical characteristics. Some specialized in enhancing raw strength and endurance, while others improved agility, perception, or mental resilience. Certain varieties were naturally attuned to specific elements, allowing their hosts to develop greater affinity with those forces.

Yet beneath these differences, they all shared the same underlying genetic foundation.

The Soldier Gu were among the Occulus faction’s finest breeds, cultivated exclusively for their Dark Magus. Once bonded with a suitable host, they could enhance both physical and mental capabilities, giving their users a significant advantage over ordinary cultivators.

This was one of the greatest attractions of joining the Dark Magus. A suitable Gu could dramatically improve a cultivator’s potential, allowing them to advance more quickly and become far more formidable in battle.

It was also one of the reasons the Occulus faction had risen to become one of the top five factions.

However, such power came at a price.

Every Soldier Gu carried a deeply ingrained trait of obedience toward the Occulus faction. The bond did more than enhance its host’s abilities; it also reinforced the faction’s authority over its members, making disobedience increasingly difficult.

For most recruits, this was an acceptable trade-off. They would gain power, status, and the opportunity to climb the ranks of one of the strongest factions in the realm.

For Ethan, it was a disaster.

As a Light Avatar operating under a false identity, he could not afford to have his mind or body bound by a Gu that might expose his true allegiance.

Fortunately, there was a way out, and he had been working toward it for weeks.

"For one hundred of you," Harrow announced, his scarred face as stern as ever, "there is a different reward. You will choose a Superior Gu."

A ripple of excitement ran through the hall. Several recruits exchanged eager glances, while others struggled to contain their anticipation.

That was precisely why Ethan had fought so carefully to secure a place among the top one hundred.

Superior Gu belonged to a higher tier, bred for leadership rather than ordinary service. Their hosts could become captains, commanding other Dark Magus and enjoying greater authority within the faction. More importantly, the compliance side effects were greatly reduced. Some rare strains could even free their hosts from the faction’s dominion entirely.

A hundred places. I am rank one hundred.

Ethan allowed himself a small, private smile.

Harrow began calling out the names.

The first candidates were exactly who Ethan would have expected: top-ranked fighters, veteran Magus, and the monsters who had distinguished themselves throughout the trials.

Ethan stood among the crowd, outwardly calm.

He had walked that narrow line, ensuring his name remained within reach of the top hundred without drawing too much attention.

His name should come near the end of the list, modest and forgettable.

Then Harrow called a name Ethan had never heard before.

And another.

Murmurs began spreading through the hall. Candidates exchanged confused glances, struggling to understand the selection. Some of the names belonged to recruits Ethan barely remembered seeing during training. A few had ranked among the lowest of the thousand survivors, nowhere near the cutoff he had carefully maintained.

"Who is that?"

"Wasn’t he near the bottom?"

Ethan’s composure began to crack.

Something was wrong. He had expected the selection to follow the rankings, perhaps with a few exceptions for particularly talented candidates. Instead, the instructors were calling names that made little sense according to the results of the trials.

"They’re nobles," a quiet voice said beside him.

Ethan turned slightly. It was Pell, the young magus from a noble clan whom he had carried through the marsh. His face was pale, and he kept his eyes lowered as though reluctant to meet Ethan’s gaze.

Ethan did not need him to explain further. He had already understood.

The rankings were not the only thing that mattered. Bloodline, family influence, and connections within the Occulus faction could outweigh a recruit’s performance.

The next name Harrow called was Pell’s.

The young man flinched. For a moment, he seemed unable to move. Then he turned toward Ethan, guilt flickering across his face.

"I’m sorry, Ethan." His voice was quiet, and he seemed to mean it. "I hope you’re chosen too."

With that, Pell stepped forward to join the selected candidates.

Ethan watched him go, his expression carefully composed.

Of course.

The arrangement was obvious now. Magus from influential clans were given leadership positions, regardless of whether their performance justified them. Those from ordinary backgrounds, unless they demonstrated truly exceptional talent, were expected to follow.

"I might still be called," he murmured.

He did not believe it.

Harrow continued reading until the list finally ended at ninety.

Silence swallowed the hall.

Ninety names. Ten empty places. A thousand confused faces.

For several seconds, nobody seemed willing to speak. Then the murmurs grew louder, and a few candidates began shouting questions, demanding to know why the selection had stopped short of the promised hundred.

Harrow raised one hand.

"The last ten places," he announced, his voice cutting through the commotion, "are open to any challenger."

His stern gaze swept across the remaining candidates.

"Here are your chance to proof yourself"

The shouting gradually died away.

Clever, Ethan thought, feeling a dark, reluctant appreciation. Very clever. The Occulus had filled most of its leadership positions with its favored candidates, then offered ten additional places as a gesture of generosity. It was a neat way to silence complaints before anyone could voice them. After all, they had given everyone a chance. If the recruits failed to seize it, they had only themselves to blame.

Dozens of candidates stepped forward. Then a hundred. Within minutes, more than two hundred stood in the center of the hall, rolling their shoulders, flexing their fingers, and glaring at their potential rivals. The air grew thick with tension as old grudges resurfaced and new ones took shape. Everyone knew that only ten would be chosen, and no one intended to surrender a place without a fight.

With a quiet sigh, Ethan stepped forward and joined the crowd.