In a dimly lit conference room, more than fifty professors sat in silence, their attention fixed on the giant screen dominating the far wall. The display was divided into a hundred panes, each showing a live feed of an individual cadet.
The professors from the Core Magic Departnt and the Combat Departnt leaned forward with particular eagerness, their eyes gleaming. This year, it was the Combat Departnt that had crafted the initiation trial, and they watched with pride as their carefully woven scenario unfolded.
The Departnt of Elental Magic was itself vast, consisting of several schools: Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Ice, Lightning, Light, and Shadow. The Combat Departnt, by contrast, was unified, encompassing every martial path. Whether a cadet chose Weapon Mastery or Unard Combat, they would find ntors here, and receive Combat Arts honed through centuries of discipline.
Beyond these two pillars lay other specialised departnts: Alchemy, Forging, Cultivation Paths, Healing Arts, Formation Arrays, and Wilderness Survival... each ready to claim the most promising students as their own.
Now, all eyes were locked upon the screens. The cadets had just been dropped into the simulated forest, unaware of the observers studying their every move. They believed only that this was a test of strength, a contest for points and ranking. The truth... that their choices and instincts were being dissected by dozens of sharp-eyed professors... who were hidden from them, so that their unguarded selves might erge.
"Look at screen seven," Professor Drake Emberfall exclaid, leaning forward with excitent. "That cadet may claim the first kill."
At once, the room’s focus shifted. On screen seven, a figure unleashed a torrent of fla. Two goblins scread as they were incinerated, collapsing into blackened ash.
On the side of the main display, a smaller screen lit up: the ranking board. Numbers began to flicker into place. At the very top, position one, appeared Cadet 10156618... with twenty points glowing beside the na.
Soon, several of the screens showed small-scale skirmishes. Goblins fell shrieking to the ground, so fled into the forest, while others struck back with cunning ambushes that left cadets bleeding or slain. The ranking board quickly filled with nas. At the top stood a lightning-user, his tally already climbing to eighty points.
The display shifted, each fra enlarging slightly as the number of survivors dwindled. Only seventy cadets remained. On one screen, a terrified girl could be seen fleeing through the trees, pursued by a snarling pack of goblins. At first, her agility saved her; she darted and twisted, slipping past every clawed swipe from behind. Yet she had failed to realise the goblins were calling more of their kin as they chased.
Professor Yara Anahí Seraphina, head of the Water School, pressed her lips together in quiet disapproval. Her eyes remained fixed on the fleeing girl on screen... Maíra of the Amazon Clan. Yara herself had once belonged to that sa Clan of werewolves, and she wanted to see how the next generation’s heir would fare.
As expected, Maíra’s reckless sprint ended in disaster. After scarcely a hundred tres she found herself surrounded, hemd in by a swelling tide of goblins. They circled her in their usual playful cruelty, testing her defences, wearing her down before committing to a kill. Maíra lashed out with everything she had... her raw physical strength, the surging water-blessed power of her bloodline, the burst-speed of her limbs, and the freehand combat she had drilled since childhood. Several goblins lay dead at her feet. But she was tiring fast, her breathing ragged as the circle closed tighter.
Yara’s gaze flicked to the neighbouring screen and her brow lifted. Another cadet had arrived at the edge of the fight. If that girl joined in, Maíra might stand a chance. But the montary hope faded as Yara watched the newcor crouch low behind a boulder, making no move to intervene... rely observing, cold-eyed, as Maíra fought for her life.
The professor exhaled sharply through her nose. "So be it. If I do not force her into Combat Class, she may not return alive from Vanaheim," she thought grimly.
Then, from the corner of her vision, she saw sudden movent. The hidden cadet erged, her body partially transford, and in an instant the fight turned into a blur. She slipped from goblin to goblin like a phantom, striking once, twice, never missing. Bodies crumpled where she passed. By the ti Maíra finished grappling her own opponent and turned, every other goblin lay dead upon the forest floor.
Professor Yara’s eyes widened at the sudden intervention. She whispered under her breath, almost in awe, "Tactical Foresight... Killing Precision... Overdrive... The Raynor Clan has birthed another monster."
At that mont, the ranking board convulsed with a sudden shift. Every professor in the hall jolted upright. Cadet 10156659 had leapt from outside the standings to first place... her score surging to one hundred and seventy points, while the second place still lingered at eighty. The entire list reshuffled, every na displaced to make room for her.
"Is the board malfunctioning?" one professor blurted.
"Impossible. The Departnt of Technology inspected every system before the ceremony began," another countered.
"Then how in the gods’ nas did a cadet amass points so quickly? Did anyone see what happened?"
Professor Yara’s voice cut through the growing noise. "Everyone. Screen sixty-two."
Dozens of eyes swung towards the feed. There Eleanor stood, looking oddly helpless, while Maíra clung to her like a frightened koala. Around them lay the proof... corpses strewn in heaps, a battlefield of goblin slaughter.
"But h... how?" stamred the professor seated beside Yara, voicing the very question running through every mind in the hall.
"Mind Reaver, Overdrive," Yara said simply.
The silence that followed was heavy. They all understood. Every one of them was a scholar, a master of their craft, and those two words alone told them more than enough.
On the screen, Eleanor began dragging Maíra away from the carnage. The girl still clung to her, refusing to let go.
***
"If you don’t want to die early, let go of . You’re obstructing my movents. Monsters could attack at any ti," Eleanor said firmly.
Maíra understood at once and released her grip. Eleanor adjusted her robe, scanning the surroundings for a suitable weapon.
They stood now on slightly elevated ground, more than a hundred tres from the battlefield they had just left behind. The faint sound of water was still guiding Eleanor forward, and she sensed they were close. She decided to take so rest... her bloodline power needed to cool down. Better to prepare now for the worst than regret later.
"I’ve got fifty points! I’m ranked eighteenth. Yay..." Maíra exclaid suddenly.
"Hush. Keep quiet... there might be monsters nearby," Eleanor cautioned sharply.
"Alright, alright," Maíra whispered back, raising her hands in surrender.
Her words, however, reminded Eleanor of sothing. It was ti to check her own score. "Nora, what’s my score?" she asked silently.
"Oh, you finally rembered ," Nora replied, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. "I was wondering when you’d need . Let’s take a look, shall we?"
A screen flickered to life at the corner of Eleanor’s vision:
[Status]
Primary Objective: Kill the troll king and recapture the stronghold.
Secondary Objective: Eliminate the monsters.
Team mbers: 1
Points: 170 (Rank-1)
[Do you want to hide the status screen? Yes/No]
"So I’m in first place... That’s bad. I don’t need to stand out too much. Ranking in the top ten is fine, but if I stay on top, the young masters will start resenting ... and might even turn against . I’ll have to slow down and let others get ahead," she thought grimly.
"Why not add a teammate and split the points?" Nora suggested smoothly. "That way, your score won’t look as threatening, and you’ll still complete your mission."
"Good idea. Let’s add Maíra first."
Before she could say more, the status screen shifted.
[Add Team mbers: Recite Cadet Number]
"Maíra, what’s your cadet number?" Eleanor asked aloud.
"Six-six-zero."
"Add six-six-zero as my team mber," Eleanor commanded in her mind.
At once, a new notification appeared in front of Maíra.
[Cadet 10156659 wants to add you as a team mber. Do you accept? Yes/No]
Without hesitation, she accepted.
"We’re a team now. Thanks for inviting !" Maíra said, her voice bubbling with excitent.
"Mm." Eleanor nodded curtly, then opened the score status once more:
[Status]
Primary Objective: Kill the troll king and recapture the stronghold.
Secondary Objective: Eliminate the monsters.
Team mbers: 2
Points: 170 (Rank-1)
[Do you want to hide the status screen? Yes/No]
After dismissing the display, Eleanor closed her eyes. "Recover your strength, Maíra. We’ll rest for five minutes. The monsters ahead will be stronger... I’d wager far stronger. We need to be at our peak if we want to finish the mission."
Maíra nodded, settling cross-legged to ditate and restore her energy. Eleanor did the sa, though even as her breathing slowed, her spiritual sense spread outward like an invisible net, scouring the forest for the faintest sign of an approaching threat.
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