This was not the behemoth headquarters located in the core of human territory, but just an ordinary branch established in the small city of Bluestone County.
Li Wen stood at the edge of the plaza, looking up at the two words overhead, a complex light flickering in his eyes.
If schools were the cradles that nurtured students, sowing the seeds of the Martial Dao and the fire of civilization, then the Fire Hall was the crucible of war for all of humanity.
Its doors were always open—whether you were a young student or a middle-aged person supporting a family; whether you were an ordinary person with a clean record or an exile burdened by your past—as long as you paid enough money, you could step inside for a chance to access basic Martial Dao cultivation and hire someone for guidance.
Of course, every service here was built on the foundation of money.
Want to privately hire a senior Martial Artist for meticulous guidance? You could, as long as your wallet was deep enough.
