Practical lessons were an almost daily occurrence for the knight departnt students in the academy.
Whether during official lesson hours or in their own free ti, training was an absolute necessity.
Every student was required to dedicate themselves to serious martial training, sharpening their skills to match the rigorous expectations of the academy.
The thods of training varied.
So followed the standard martial arts curriculum provided by the academy-structured techniques refined through centuries of battlefield experience.
Others relied on unique styles passed down through their bloodlines, family heirlooms of war that only a chosen few could wield properly.
And then, there were those who sought to carve their own path, forging an original style through sheer talent and instinct.
Despite the academy's prestige, the professors-who were renowned warriors, knights, rcenaries, and adventurers—had no obligation to personally pass down their signature techniques.
Such skills were not ant to be freely shared but rather entrusted only to worthy successors or direct family mbers.
The students could watch, analyze, and attempt to replicate-but true mastery was sothing they had to earn on their own.
And so, the training grounds were a chaotic battleground.
-SMACK!
-CLANG!
-SWISH!
-SWOOSH!
The sharp sounds of swords, spears, axes, and arrows filled the air, echoing across the academy's open training field.
tal clashed against tal, creating a brutal symphony of combat as students fought desperately against their assigned opponents.
Every first-year, regardless of rank, had been thrown into the arena today.
Their challenge?
Fight a combat golem-one three tis their size.
The golems were magically programd to lock onto a single student, ensuring that each fight was one-on-one in theory.
However, the sheer density of combatants in the training grounds made movent incredibly difficult.
Ducking, weaving, dodging, and attacking—all of it had to be done while avoiding not only the towering enemy before them but also the flurry of students engaged in their own desperate battles.
Space was a luxury few had.
There was hardly any room to properly swing a weapon without the risk of hitting a fellow student or getting caught in soone else's battle.
"Rember there will be severe deductions for those who disrupt their fellow students' concentration and the outco of their match, regardless of whether it is intentional or not."
The professor's voice rang out across the training grounds, firm and unwavering.
A collective groan rumbled through the students. Internally, many cursed the seemingly unreasonable expectations placed upon them.
Anyone with a shred of common sense could see how unfair this entire setup was.
With each student wielding different weapons, moving erratically to dodge, counter, and strike their respective opponents, avoiding interference was practically impossible.
The battlefield was a chaotic ss of flashing steel and clashing bodies, where one mistid step could send soone careening into another's fight.
Many wondered how the professors even planned to keep track of everything.
Although all the knight departnt advisors had gathered to oversee the training, it seed like an impossible task to accurately assess every individual student.
After all, how could one be properly evaluated when they couldn't even go all out in this cramped, frenzied environnt?
Yet, despite the evident frustration in the students' gazes, the professors remained unfazed. They understood the flaws of this exam, which was precisely why they had all agreed to be as lenient as possible when grading.
Even so, that did little to change the reality of the situation.
The reason for this seemingly unfair training exercise was simple-to prepare them for war.
On an actual battlefield, favorable conditions were a luxury.
Battles weren't fought in carefully controlled, one-on-one duels.
There would be allies and enemies clashing all around, arrows raining down, spells erupting
in chaos, and the constant, suffocating pressure of death looming at every corner.
The true purpose of this training wasn't just to evaluate individual combat skill.
It was a test of adaptability, battlefield awareness, and survival.
"Faster!!! Those who fail to deliver three hundred strikes within the given ti limit shall automatically receive a zero for this exam!"
'These demons!'
A collective thought rippled through the students as they gritted their teeth in frustration. At the start of the year, they had all admired their professors-each of them renowned figures with impressive backgrounds in knighthood, warfare, and adventuring.
But now, under the blistering weight of their expectations, those sa professors looked less like ntors and more like rciless drill sergeants bent on forcing them through impossible
trials.
The combat golems they faced weren't even close to the military's standardized battle constructs, yet every single one of them was still designed to fend off at least an A-rank
monster.
For the weaker students-those at D-rank and below-this was nothing short of a losing
battle.
Even worse, those who had already been assessed as stronger than average were given even more powerful opponents-golems cranked up to their maximum combat potential, capable of effortlessly defeating A-rank monsters.
Despite their complaints, despite the unfairness of it all, the training pressed on.
Two professors stood at the edge of the training grounds, observing the sea of struggling
first-year students.
"Will this year turn out the sa as last?" one of them muttered.
"Maybe..." the other replied.
The academy had suffered from multiple scandals in recent years, resulting in an all-ti low
in both admission and enrollnt.
And yet, looking out at the packed training grounds, the number of first-year students didn't
seem too different from the previous year.
And, just like every year before this one, the outco of this brutal test seed all but
predetermined.
-E-rank students were practically defeated the mont the fight started.
Their attacks lacked power, their movents were sloppy, and their stamina drained far too
quickly.
It wasn't even a contest-it was a massacre.
-D-rank students fared slightly better, managing to put up so resistance.
But no matter how desperately they struggled, their fates were already sealed.
The golems overpowered them with sheer strength and endurance, leaving them collapsed on
the ground, exhausted and defeated.
-C-rank students were more competent, their techniques sharper, their stances more refined. So even managed to hold out for an impressive amount of ti.
Yet, in the end, not a single one could claim victory.
The golems pushed them past their limits, forcing them to surrender one by one.
-B-rank students were the biggest wild cards in this exam.
Unlike their lower-ranked peers, they had the skill and endurance to fight back for an
extended period.
However, their aggressive tactics often led to unintended consequences.
Whether through sheer desperation or strategic recklessness, they frequently disrupted other
students' fights.
So had done so intentionally, using the chaos to their advantage.
Others had done so accidentally, their movents clashing with the tightly packed
battlefield.
Not that it mattered.
The professors didn't bother distinguishing between the two.
The academy's rules were clear-anyone who disrupted another student's concentration or
battle performance would face deductions.
And so, despite their efforts, most B-rank students ended up bearing the brunt of the
penalties.
-A-rank students were, as always, the ones who stood at the top.
But they didn't breeze through the test-far from it.
They struggled. They were forced to push themselves, in more ways than they imagined, considering the
situation...
But unlike the others, they prevailed, even with the unexpected restraint....
Their victories weren't always pretty, nor were they effortless.
But compared to the crushed and exhausted lower ranks, they were the only ones who could
claim actual accomplishnts.
They had the highest win rates, the most completed objectives, and the best overall
performance.
The professors glanced at their notes.
The results were exactly as expected.
Even without tallying the scores, they could already make a rough assessnt of each
student's performance.
After all, this test wasn't just about skill-it was also about where they stood within the
academy's hierarchy.
And as always, their ranks had dictated their fates before the battle had even begun.
Eventually, the professors would have to evaluate the most difficult students in the exam.
Normally, the hardest to assess would be the lower-ranked students-those who barely managed to put up a fight.
Their scores often relied more on the professors' interpretation rather than any tangible
achievents.
Did they show potential?
Did they demonstrate strategy?
Or were they simply hopeless cases?
But that was only if monsters didn't exist in the academy....
No amount of academic grading could properly assess them.
FOOSHHH!!!
A massive eruption of flas suddenly burst forth from the eastern section of the training
grounds, consuming everything in its path.
The sheer intensity of the fire warped the air itself, turning the battlefield into a furnace.
At the center of it all, a lone figure stood unmoving.
Her golden-blonde hair swayed with the heat, catching the fire's glow and reflecting a brilliance that made the inferno around her appear almost ethereal.
The golem before her-a construct ten tis the size of what the other students had faced-
lted into nothing.
Its steel limbs drooped like wax, its once-solid form reduced to molten slag. Yet, despite the overwhelming destruction, not a single student near her was hard.
Her flas-though capable of incinerating steel with ease-were controlled with an absurd
level of precision.
It was not the reckless fire of an untad beast, nor the uncontrollable rage of a wild inferno.
Instead, it burned with purpose. With absolute control.
And the one wielding it? Princess Stacia Alger Del Luna.
A soft, knowing smile graced her lips as she delicately raised a fan to her face, partially
concealing her expression.
Her crimson-red eyes glead with satisfaction, reflecting the flas she had so effortlessly
conjured.
With a small nod to herself, she acknowledged her own perfection.
The way she manipulated her flas-the way she could shape, suppress, and refine her heat
to this degree-was nothing short of mastery.
She did not simply wield fire.
She ruled over it.
If one were to compare, her level of control was comparable to a mage who had devoted a
lifeti to mastering a single elent.
For soone like her, this battlefield was nothing more than a stage- and she had just
delivered a flawless performance.
Next to Stacia, streaks of golden light flashed through the air, piercing through the towering
golem's form with unnerving precision.
Each attack struck major vital points-the heart, the throat, the joints-all mirroring the
exact killing blows one would use against a human opponent.
The wielder of such deadly accuracy?
Uriel Elora.
With a bored expression, she spun her spear vertically in one hand, its blade glinting in the
fiery aftermath of her effortless assault.
Her lips curled slightly in apathetic disdain as she gazed at the remains of her enemy-a
golem ten tis her size-now lying in a shattered heap.
It had barely lasted.
Uriel scoffed.
"This is too easy.'
And just like those two, their other classmates were also tearing through their respective
golem opponents with similar ease.
There were only ten of them-a small number compared to the hundreds of first-year
students struggling across the battlefield.
But those ten...
They were practically the hardest students to assess in this entire exam.
Why?
Because they were the Top 10.
The only S-rank students of their respective year.
Each one a monster in their own right.
"Huff...!"
A sharp breath escaped from Reina, her chest rising and falling heavily as she wiped the sweat
trickling down her forehead.
Her hands still trembled slightly—a lingering effect of the force she had to exert to finally
cleave through the massive hunk of tal that had served as her opponent. Though her expression remained firm, there was an undeniable sense of unease in her eyes. Compared to her fellow S-rank classmates, she was the last to defeat her golem.
It wasn't as if she lacked training. She had pushed herself relentlessly, her discipline matching
-if not exceeding-that of her peers.
But in the end...
Talent was sothing one could not train.
And they-her fellow S-rank students-were true geniuses.
A league of their own.
No matter how much she refused to compare herself to them, the reality was evident.
They had conquered their battles effortlessly.
anwhile, she had struggled.
It was an unspoken truth...
"Those two really are serious monsters..." Reina mumbled softly, her gaze locked onto Uriel
and Stacia.
They were undoubtedly the most exceptional first-year students, their overwhelming power standing far above the rest.
The academy had always enforced a strict ranking hierarchy among the Top 10 students,
making sure that each was properly placed according to their capabilities.
But for these two?
The rules had been bent.
The academy, for the first ti in years, had ignored one of its own policies concerning rank
placent.
Trying to determine who was stronger between them was an impossible task.
Their talents too overwhelming to place one above the other.
Reina now understood why.
Their strengths may have had minor differences, but in the grand sche of things, the two
were absolute equals.
A reality that made Reina's chest tighten.
'I still have a long way to go...'
She considered herself strong, but standing in the sa arena as these monsters, she knew the
truth-
If she wanted to keep up, she had to climb even higher.
Reina sighed internally, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
And then-
A sudden mory surfaced.
A familiar face.
Riley.
'I wonder if Brother struggled in this exam...'
Her older brother, Riley Hell, had been ranked quite high during his first year at the academy.
Given his abilities, it was clear he must have cleared his opponent with relative ease back
then.
But still...
That thought only led her mind to another concern.
'Now that I think about it... where the heck is he, anyway?'
Reina knew Riley had gotten into trouble a few weeks ago-sothing related to academic
staff and disciplinary action.
But as far as she rembered, he had only received a short suspension, or at worst, a minor
probation inside the dorms.
And yet...
He hadn't contacted them at all.
Her brows furrowed slightly.
Sothing felt off.
She slid her sword back into its scabbard, exhaustion weighing on her limbs.
The battle had taken its toll, and with the exam still ongoing until every last student had
finished, she figured she could at least take a mont to rest.
But just as she took her first step-
A purplish light flashed.
Then-
CRACK-!
RUMBLE!
A deafening roar of thunder tore through the training grounds, the ground trembling beneath
its force. The sheer intensity of the sudden phenonon sent a shockwave rippling through
the air.
At the very center of the abrupt explosion of light, smoke unraveled, revealing a figure
erging from within.
A woman.
Her long black hair billowed from the residual energy of her entrance, stray arcs of purple
lightning still crackling around her body like an untad force of nature.
And perched on both her left and right shoulders-
Two crows.
Their glowing violet eyes fixated on the scene before them, unmoving, as if they were
extensions of their master's will.
Then she smiled.
It was a slow, confident smile-one that sent a visible ripple through the first-year students.
So of them, already exhausted from their battles, froze in place. Others, caught off guard by her grand entrance, were left completely defenseless-resulting
in a few of them collapsing outright, taken down by their own distracted state.
Not that it mattered.
Because more than her beauty and the sheer force of her presence, there was one thing above
all that made every single first-year student react with sheer shock and awe.
Her identity.
-Leilah Grace.
The one and only Principal of the Academy.
But that wasn't the only shocking part.
Because right behind her, walking calmly out of the dissipating smoke-
Was him.
A figure equally famous or rather infamous within the academy.
A young man with golden blonde hair, strands swaying slightly with his movents.
His cold blue eyes remained firm, unmoved by the stares directed his way.
And while his face was devoid of any real emotion, there was sothing undeniable about his
presence.
It was like the air grew heavier just from him standing there.
A presence that only those who had truly reached the pinnacle of strength could exude.
Reina's breath caught in her throat.
Her mind raced, questions as she looked at the mysterious figure....
'What the...?'
"Big bro?!"
The words left her lips instinctively, disbelief evident in her voice as she watched her older
brother casually trailing behind the principal-
As if it was the most natural thing in the world.
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