My attributes are increasing infinitely Chapter 5: Strength test

The bus halted smoothly, accompanied by the faint hiss of its braking system.

Looking through the window, Ethan observed the massive edifice standing before them. The Martial Alliance Branch Hall was a formidable sight, constructed from dark metal and reinforced stone. Ancient martial emblems were etched into its exterior walls, symbolizing a long history of inherited power. A towering figure waited beneath the wide archway that served as the entrance.

As the students exited the vehicle, their lively conversations died down upon seeing the man. He possessed a broad-shouldered, tall frame and a posture as rigid as a sword. An aura of composed strength and absolute certainty surrounded him—the unmistakable mark of a seasoned combat veteran.

Arnold moved to the front with his characteristic calm. "Students, let me introduce Richard Hervey," he stated. "He serves as a senior executive officer for this branch of the Martial Alliance and is also a Martial Master. He will be in charge of your evaluations today."

Ethan’s brow twitched in surprise.

A Martial Master? Having one present was already quite a revelation. However, it was Richard’s demeanor that truly piqued Ethan's curiosity.

When Richard acknowledged Arnold, his tone changed slightly and his stance became even more formal. A flash of genuine deference appeared in his gaze—a type of respect that was impossible to feign. He acted as though he were reporting to a superior of significantly higher rank.

Why is he showing such deference to Arnold? Ethan pondered. Arnold didn't radiate the presence of anyone stronger than a Martial Warrior... unless he had been concealing his true Cultivation level this entire time.

Pushing the thought aside for the moment, Ethan stayed with the group as they entered the facility.

The interior hall was expansive and dignified, illuminated by soft white lights that shimmered against the dark, buffed flooring. High on the walls hung the decorative banners of the Martial Alliance, each icon representing the pillars of unity, strength, and legacy. The sides of the hall were lined with various training bays and testing chambers, featuring glass partitions for spectators. The scent of iron mixed with disinfectant filled the air—the distinct aroma of a place dedicated to discipline and battle.

They were ushered into a spacious side room containing ten heavy-duty testing apparatuses. These were metallic pillars fitted with thick striking pads and overhead digital readouts.

"This," Richard explained while pointing toward the equipment, "is your first challenge—the strength evaluation. You will be tested in groups of ten. Your goal is to strike the target with a single punch. If your force output meets the required limit, you will move on to the speed assessment."

A low chatter broke out among the students. The benchmark was common knowledge—500 kilograms of force. This was the baseline for any student hoping to secure a spot in a top-tier martial academy.

The initial group of ten—six boys and four girls—stepped toward the machines. Some shook out their limbs while others performed quick stretches, causing the tension in the room to rise.

"Begin," Richard commanded.

The students took their stances. They adjusted their footing and drew deep breaths before striking simultaneously.

BAM!

The sound of ten impacts boomed through the room like a synchronized explosion. The displays whirred as the numbers climbed rapidly.

Machine 1: 400 kg Machine 2: 600 kg Machine 3: 500 kg ... ... Machine 10: 533 kg

Once the results stabilized, Richard nodded curtly. "Six have qualified."

The four who fell short looked crushed. Their spirits sank; one girl’s hands shook as she gripped her skirt. Years of grueling training had boiled down to this one moment, and they had failed to meet the mark.

Arnold stepped in, his voice projecting a mix of warmth and authority. "Do not lose heart," he comforted them. "Missing out on a top academy is not the end of your path. There are second-tier institutions and various other routes—you could join the military or become a free warrior. Your journey continues. Often, those who face early setbacks are the ones who climb the highest in the end."

His words carried a heavy sense of truth, spoken by someone who had witnessed many successes and failures over the years.

The dejected students looked up, a glimmer of hope returning to their eyes. The sting of failure remained, but it was now tempered by a new resolve. Meanwhile, the six who had passed were radiant, celebrating with quick high-fives.

The testing continued. In the second group, five more students met the requirements.

Then came the third group—the one including Young Master Mark Silva.

The room fell into a hushed silence.

Mark approached his machine with a haughty stride, his head held high. He showed no sign of nerves, only pure arrogance. He took his time adjusting his gloves, ensuring he was the center of attention.

With a sharp exhale, he settled into a flawless martial stance and threw a powerful punch.

The machine beeped as the readout surged upward.

100... 300... 600... 750 kg.

The crowd gasped in unison.

"750!" someone breathed.

"That's incredible..." another added.

"The Silva family is truly formidable. Following Old Master Eric, another genius has appeared."

Mark stood there with a smug grin, soaking in the admiration of his peers. He shifted his gaze, searching for one person in particular.

Ethan.

However, Ethan remained entirely unfazed. There was no sign of jealousy or awe—just a calm, unreadable expression.

This bothered Mark immensely.

"Hmph," he hissed, tightening his grip. "Just you wait, you peasant. Once you fail this, you'll regret ever trying to stand near me."

The next group was called, which included Rose and Ryan.

Ryan looked nervous as he stepped up to Machine 2, glancing around anxiously. Rose, however, was the picture of serenity. She took her place at Machine 7 with practiced ease.

"Begin."

BAM!

Ryan’s display showed 433 kg—a solid effort, but not enough to pass. His face darkened with disappointment.

Then, all eyes shifted to Rose’s monitor.

The digits flew past—500... 700... finally stopping at 800 kg.

The room went dead quiet.

Even Richard looked surprised. Arnold gave a small, satisfied chuckle and a nod of approval.

"800 kg... and she hasn't even undergone awakening yet," Richard whispered. "That is a rare sight, even in the super cities."

While the other students whispered in shock, Rose simply walked back to her spot. She showed no pride and no ego.

Seeing Ryan’s discouraged look, Ethan gave him a friendly nudge.

"Don't sweat it," Ethan joked. "When I rise to become a Heavenly King, I'll appoint you as one of my top generals."

Ryan blinked in surprise before bursting into laughter. "As you wish, my king."

The tension eased as the two friends shared a laugh.

Finally, it was Ethan’s turn.

He approached the machine quietly, his mind racing. His actual power was over 6,000 kg—yet the theoretical peak for someone who hadn't unlocked their gene was 1,000 kg.

Should I hold back? Maybe I should aim for 900 kg to stay under the radar? Then, a different thought took hold. No... why should I hide? In a few months, I will surpass even the strongest dragon currently alive. Let them witness this.

He raised his fist without adopting a formal stance. There was no preparation and no specialized posture.

The spectators began to murmur.

"What is he doing?"

"Does he really think he can hit the mark without a proper stance?"

"He's about to make a fool of himself."

Mark smirked, practically shaking with the anticipation of Ethan's failure.

And then—

Ethan threw the punch.

BOOOOM!

The impact sounded like a heavy cannon firing. The entire machine shuddered, and the digital display flashed wildly.

The numbers skyrocketed—300, 500, 700, 900...

1000 kg.

The room froze in absolute shock.

Silence reigned. Not a single person moved.

Ryan stood with his mouth agape. Even Rose’s usually calm eyes were wide with shock.

Mark’s smirk was gone, replaced by a face contorted with rage and disbelief. He ground his teeth so loudly that people nearby noticed, though no one offered him any pity.

At that moment, Ethan was the sole focus of the room.

Arnold’s mask of composure slipped, revealing genuine astonishment for the first time.

And Richard?

His eyes shone with excitement. "Student Ethan," he said, stepping toward him slowly, "that was... truly remarkable. Even the elite super cities would struggle to find someone of your caliber."

He offered a hand in greeting. "You have a magnificent future ahead. I will be keeping a close eye on you."

Arnold laughed softly from the side. "Well done, kid."

Ethan gave a simple nod, maintaining his calm. Inside, however, he felt a surge of satisfaction. He had made his presence known—and now, he was impossible to ignore.

The remaining groups finished their turns, but the atmosphere had changed. Nothing could top the spectacle they had just witnessed.

By the end of the round, seventy students had successfully passed the strength portion.

Richard clapped his hands to gather everyone's focus. "Very well. For those who passed—follow me. The speed evaluation is next."

The thirty who failed were disappointed but not broken. Many now held a look of fierce determination, their minds already set on training harder for the future.

With that, the seventy successful candidates followed Richard deeper into the facility, ready for their next trial.