The training grounds were vast, an open field surrounded by tall stone walls with several combat arenas marked by white chalk lines. The distant clang of weapons and murmurs of people filled the air, creating an atmosphere thick with tension.
The combat practical had started an hour ago, and since I was the last applicant, I had to wait for everyone else to finish.
One saving grace was that multiple fights took place simultaneously across the combat arenas. The fights were not that long, lasting only 2-3 minutes at best. I an what do you expect? The participants were up against experienced Mazekins.
Even if their rank might be determined to be similar—which sotis is not accurate. The Mazekins had more experience in the field of battle. The participants should be like toddlers to them.
There was no way the participants could win unless they were so prodigy or monster.
Then how do they pass? It's simple really. This test is not about winning, it is about testing the adaptability of the person applying to be Mazekin.
Unlike rcenaries—Who do client requests only which range from small to big jobs. Mazekins are always in dangerous situations. They can also accept client requests but their main job is to explore the mazes or dungeons to find rare items and mana stones.
Mazekins also work in a party to increase their survival rates because going into the dungeon alone is suicide unless you are the fucking protagonist of the ga. I would just slam Greatsword into those damn resting spirits or Draugrs.
"The current battles in the combat arenas are over," The Examiner announced who this ti was a muscular middle-aged man with tanned skin marred with scars. He was wearing a black sleeveless combat dress showing his bulky arms.
But what stood out most was his shining moon of a bald head. That shit can blind the enemies in the battle.
But despite his looks and intimidating looks, he seems to be a cool-headed guy unlike in so other fantasy world where these types of people would shout till the eardrums of the people listening to them would burst with blood.
"Next the last remaining five people will step onto Arenas," He looked around and then shifted his gaze towards the paper he held in his hands.
"In Combat Arena 1, Applicant no. 71: Lyker, Determined Rank: D-, will face Mazekin Devin Rank: D-"
"In Combat Arena 2, Applicant no. 72: Ezekiel, Determined Rank: D, will face Mazekin Jeoffy Rank: D,"
"In Combat Arena 3, Applicant no. 73: Riana Von Augustin, Determined Rank: C-, will face Mazekin Silja Rank: C-,"
"In Combat Arena 4, Applicant no. 74: Collete, Determined Rank: D, will face Mazekin Niko Rank: D,"
As their nas got called out, Ezekiel, Rianna and Collete stood up from their respective seats head towards their assigned combat arenas.
"Good luck to all of you," I said and gave them a soft smile.
"Yeah, I am gonna win," Ezekiel smirked raising his thumb. "You better win too"
"Thank you, D-Dimitri. And Best of luck to you as well" Riana lowered her neck slightly as she thanked .
Collete just gave a knowing nod and strode forward without saying anything.
"Lastly Combat Arena 5, Applicant no. 75: Dimitri Novikov, Determined Rank: C , will face Mazekin Raul Rank: C ,"
I stood up from my own seat, a smile etched onto my face which was genuine.
'Finally! After this, I can get the fuck out of here,'
I stretched my arms and legs then moved towards Combat Arena 5. The gazes of participants were all upon which was unnerving but not sothing that I could not handle.
'My opponent is Raul, a C Rank Mazekin.'
My body trembled a little—not from anxiety but from excitent. I was finally able to test my skills against soone else. With Micheal, it was just a one-sided man slaughter where I would be beaten like I was a sinner and then had to run as a penalty.
But it is quite sad that I won't be able to use my best card—Lightning Magic. Well, it would be a different case if I could but I can't. This fucking shade of athyst is more of a nightmare than a blessing. For now at least.
I entered the arena crossing over white lines made with chalk. From across , another man entered the Arena—He had a well-defined physique.
Not too big, not too small. So, he will either use a sword or a dagger.
His black hair, streaked with grey, frad onyx eyes reflecting years of hardship. Fair skin and quite a sharp and handso face—one ladies would fond over if not for the burn marks and scars embedded on it. He looked like a man hardened by years of experience.
He wore the sa sleeveless black battle attire as the examiner, showing off his well-built biceps.
As we both approached the inner circle of the arena, he extended his hands towards .
"I am Mazekin Raul, nice to et you, Dimitri,"
"The feeling is mutual, Sir Raul," I replied giving him a firm handshake.
"Please don't be formal with ," He said taking his hands, "It feels awkward,"
"As you wish,"
'Looks like a good man but in the end he too can't be trusted,'
[Be careful Noah, he looks strong] Dante warned .
'I know but what if I use my lighting?'
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