The figures scattered across the open field were a diverse lot, but they all shared one thing in common: they had chosen to align themselves with the Noble Guild. In Raze’s eyes, that choice carried a heavy price. By tethering their fates to the guild, they had effectively declared themselves his enemies. To an outsider, Raze’s current thods might have seed unnecessarily cruel, perhaps even sadistic, as he dismantled challenger after challenger with cold efficiency.
However, Raze felt he was being remarkably lenient. His ti in Pagna, journeying alongside various warriors and mages, had tempered his edge; he felt he was actually going soft. In his previous life, or perhaps a darker version of himself, these people wouldn’t be breathing. Now, he was content to simply break them. He wouldn’t kill them, but he would ensure their injuries were severe enough to sideline them for the upcoming conflicts. Every broken bone and scorched robe served a dual purpose: it thinned the ranks of his opposition and acted as a grim advertisent for the overwhelming power of the Noble Guild.
"Next!" Raze shouted, his voice ringing across the field like a gavel.
The mages stepped forward tentatively, desperate to prove their worth. They unleashed their best spells, trying to catch him off guard with flickering flas or shards of ice. But Raze was a ghost in the field. He repositioned himself with fluid, practiced movents, relying solely on his magic to maintain the distance. Up to this point, he had restricted himself to wind magic, using the currents to deflect projectiles and boost his own speed.
When he drew close, he didn’t use a blade. Instead, he channeled the wind into invisible lashes, forcing several precise attacks onto his opponents. Sharp, pressurized gales opened deep cuts across their limbs and torsos. If a mage proved particularly resilient, standing their ground even as blood soaked through their tunics, Raze would simply escalate. A sudden, violent vortex of wind would erupt beneath them, lifting their bodies high into the air before slamming them back down onto the hard-packed earth with bone-jarring force.
"Next!" Raze called out again. The onlookers, a mix of guild mbers and recruits, watched the display in a state of stunned awe.
"Yeah, show them, Web!" one of the Noble Guild mbers shouted, his voice filled with arrogance. "Show these idiots that they never stood a chance! They should have just joined us from the beginning instead of playing hard to get." He spat on the ground, grinning at the carnage. "They really saw themselves as too good for us, but look at them now. Now they know exactly where they stand."
A fellow guild mber looked on with a slight frown, his arms crossed over his chest. "Don’t you think he might be going a bit too far with them? They were ant to help us in the fight, right? If they’re this injured, they won’t be able to contribute anything to the front lines."
The first man laughed, dismissing the concern with a wave of his hand. "It’s fine. If Web was able to damage them and hurt them this easily, it just ans they weren’t good enough to begin with. They wouldn’t have been much help in a real scrap anyway. We only need the best."
"Yeah, and I think there’s another reason he’s switching up his style," a third mber chid in. "We have a massive number of people to evaluate today. This is significantly quicker. Plus, who knows who among this lot might be a spy or soone trying to start a rebellion from the inside? Web is showing them the clear difference between us and them. He’s setting the hierarchy."
As the sun moved across the sky, even Raze began to feel the tedium of the task. There were simply too many recruits, and the individual assessnts were becoming a drain on his ti. However, he found himself slipping into the role of ’Web’ with surprising ease. He liked the fear he saw in their eyes; it made his job simpler.
"Co on, send out more of you!" Raze claid, his voice dripping with feigned impatience. "Five of you at once! Co out and try to take on together!"
The mages hesitated, unsure if he was being serious or rely mocking them. But when Raze began to chant and a visible aura of mana started to gather in his palm, they scrambled to their feet, realizing the invitation was a threat. For the first ti during the assessnt, as the air crackled with the gathering energy of five different spells aid his way, Raze shifted his elental affinity.
He moved away from the subtle currents of the wind and tapped into the violent energy of lightning.
As the first bolt left his hand, it didn’t just strike its target; it surged through the air, arcing toward the mages standing nearby. The chain reaction was instantaneous. The electrical discharge disrupted their concentration, causing their own spells to fizzle out in puffs of smoke and sparks.
With one hand, Raze swatted away a stray bolt of magic that managed to fly toward him, his palm glowing with a protective sheen. Then, he struck the floor. A massive discharge of lightning snaked across the ground, erupting upward beneath the five mages. The sll of ozone filled the air as they cried out, their bodies jolting under the intense voltage.
Finally, as they stood paralyzed by the status effects of the lightning magic, muscles locked and nerves firing wildly, Raze didn’t stop. He lifted his hand toward the sky, forming a dense, crackling orb of electricity. With a flick of his fingers, the orb shattered into five distinct streaks of light. Each one struck a mage with pinpoint accuracy, causing their bodies to convulse and shake violently until, one by one, they collapsed in a heap on the floor.
"Don’t worry!" Raze said, flashing a bright, terrifyingly hollow smile at the remaining participants. "They’re still alive... mostly. They just might not be able to move their limbs for a few days."
So of those waiting in line looked at the smoking bodies on the ground and wondered if death might have been a kinder outco than the level of pain Web was handing out. The assessnts continued, but the atmosphere had shifted from competitive to desperate. The remaining mages were unable to perform to the best of their capabilities; their movents were stiff, and their spells were weak, hampered by the sheer terror of what would happen if they resisted too much.
"Hey, is it just , or has Web beco a lot stronger recently?" one of the observers whispered. "I don’t rember him being this skilled or this aggressive."
"Maybe he was just hiding his true talent," another replied. "Or maybe his low position in the guild was just because he’s shy or sothing. Regardless, it’s less work for us. Usually, we have to sweat through these assessnts ourselves, but he’s taking care of the whole lot."
After several hours, the field was littered with the defeated. Every single person who had co for the assessnt was too injured to participate in any combat for at least a few days. The recruitnt drive had been effectively neutralized.
As Raze turned his back on the groaning crowd and walked toward the guild building, he allowed himself a small, internal mont of satisfaction. He had managed to accomplish a massive part of his objective, crippling the guild’s reinforcents, all while maintaining his cover and playing the part of a loyal, overzealous mber. He had played the villain perfectly, and no one suspected a thing.
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