The military had poured countless martial resources into Chetvine Plaza, and the place was unlike anywhere else. The instructors teaching combat skills alone were all seasoned veterans who had retired from the army.

Holtrien’s martial arts could be broadly divided into three schools. First were the ancient martial arts sects like Mistveil Peak, Silverthorn Monastery, and Mount Lourneau, all with centuries or even millennia of history behind them and built on deep foundations. Second came the royal families and noble houses, with their hidden depths and family traditions passed down generation after generation. Third was Holtrien’s military department. Their martial arts mostly followed the hard-line approach, focusing purely on practical application. So soldiers were typically killers, not performers putting on fancy shows.

For ordinary families or regular people wanting to learn martial arts without the capital to do so elsewhere, coming to Chetvine Plaza was the most cost-effective option. However, Holtrien was vast, and many people still could not make it to Chetvine for various reasons. Their lifelong martial arts dreams would simply be crushed. This was unavoidable since reality would not make way for anyone.

If you were born in Chetvine, you were naturally superior to others. While this statement was harsh, it was not entirely without merit. If you were born in the countryside, in some godforsaken backwater village, then educational resources, martial arts resources, and all kinds of resources were naturally insufficient from birth. Some disheartened souls eventually came to understand: it was not that they were untalented, but that others were simply born with everything. Birth itself was a blessing, and only by working tirelessly could one endure this relentless world.

Andrew walked slowly across the massive martial arts plaza. Around him, some people practiced on punching bags, others lifted weights, and some threw punches at training dummies. These were the most basic martial arts exercises. To the uninformed, they might seem no different from a regular gym. However, there was definitely a difference.

These martial artists could punch a crater into a dummy’s head with a single blow, and afterward, the dummy would automatically repair itself. Those lifting weights started at 200 kilos, with the stronger ones pulling 800. Yet their bodies were not bulky. In fact, they looked almost frail, proving they had already begun cultivating true energy within their cores. When one breath of life force was generated, the body became nourished and transcended ordinary limits.

Andrew did not draw anyone’s attention. After all, he had not set foot in this place for ten years. However, if any familiar faces were around, their legs would have gone weak. A decade ago, the undisputed troublemaker of Chetvine Plaza was none other than the Lloyd family’s Dragon Prince. Back then, though, nobody called him that. Instead, they called him Chetvine’s number one menace. Day after day, Andrew had beaten the sons of noble houses until they cried. Every day, people went to the Lloyd family to complain and curse his name.

Andrew walked straight toward the Martial Tower in the plaza’s center. The tower, 100 stories tall, was one of Chetvine’s greatest landmarks and the very reason he had come. The military department had spent astronomical amounts on this tower.

It was not that building this hundred-story giant tower was particularly remarkable. Everyone knew Holtrien’s current construction standards made them infrastructure maniacs. As long as you could pay, they could build you a replica of any famous building without any major problems. What made the Martial Tower priceless was what it contained: a treasure trove of martial manuals. Techniques of every level filled its halls, while secret arts and lost disciplines were stored in abundance. Whenever the military wiped out a sect, the first thing they seized was its martial legacy, hoarding everything into the tower.

The Martial Tower was perhaps the military’s greatest asset, for it was the foundation that sustained Holtrien’s overwhelming power.