Ten training dolls stood scattered around the field—each one taller than her, built from thick wood and tal joints, their eyes glowing faint red. A single brighter red mark pulsed on their chests. Hitting that mark shut them down. Breaking them, however, ant losing points.
The dolls ca alive at once.
Their heads jerked up. Their limbs snapped into motion with sharp, chanical bursts, and they rushed towards her.
Elana didn’t flinch.
She sank slightly at the knees, her batons sliding into her palms with a smooth click. They moved like they were grown from her bones—an extension of her arms, not handheld tools.
The first doll swung a heavy arm at her head.
Elana stepped in, not back.
Her baton shot up, sliding along its forearm, guiding the strike past her ear. In the sa motion she spun, snapping the other baton into the glowing mark on its chest.
A dull thunk.
The light died.
The doll froze mid-step.
"Did you see that?!" soone whispered from the stands.
"She didn’t even dodge—she just walked into it!"
"And those dolls...they are attacking this ti! That’s an insane change."
Another doll lunged from the side, its tal joints clattering. Elana pivoted, her heel digging into the ground, letting the force slide past her. The baton in her left hand flicked out, knocking its elbow joint off balance. She slid under its arm and tapped the red mark with her right baton.
The doll shut down instantly, towering motionless behind her.
A wave of murmurs washed through the arena.
"Her movent... it’s too smooth."
"It’s like she’s dancing around them."
"No wasted motion at all."
Three dolls charged now, trying to corner her.
Elana moved before they reached her.
She swept forward in a straight line—fast, silent, precise. Her batons spun in her hands with short, tight movents, striking only where they needed to. A sharp rap to the side of a knee. A parry against a rising arm. A twist of her torso that placed her exactly between them, making the dolls bump into each other.
One baton jabbed into the first red mark.
The second baton snapped into the next.
She kicked off the mat, using the collision of the dolls as support, and brought her baton down on the third one’s chest.
Three lights went out almost at the sa ti.
A group of students stood up from their seats.
"What kind of technique is this?" Olivia asked, her eyes never leaving the moving figure in the arena.
"She’s fighting without mana, but she’s handling them without a single strain on her face." Allen murmured, his eyes completely drawn.
"This is insane..." Sylvie muttered
Four dolls remained.
They rushed her together in a coordinated pattern—two flanking, two charging straight.
Elana didn’t break stride.
She leapt forward, landing on the shoulder of the first charging doll. Her baton struck its chest before her feet even touched its tal fra. As it shut down, she pushed off, flipping toward the next.
Elana landed lightly on the ground, knees bending to absorb the drop. Without pausing, she spun low, her baton hooking behind the ankle of the doll on her right. It stumbled, falling forward. Before it collapsed, she stepped into its shadow and tapped the glowing mark.
Only two dolls remained.
They tried to back away, their red eyes scanning wildly, recalculating. It didn’t matter.
Elana was already moving.
She rushed them with a calm, controlled pace—no hurry, no wasted strength. Her batons whirled once, striking their arms aside, creating an opening between them. Then two quick hits—one to each chest.
Both lights blinked out.
Silence filled the arena.
Elana exhaled slowly, spinning her batons once before sliding them into her belt. She didn’t look tired. Not even a little.
Then the crowd erupted.
"Holy—she hunted them like nothing!"
"That wasn’t a fight. That was domination."
"She didn’t use magic?! Not even once?!"
"She didn’t break a single doll either!"
Despite the roaring cheers and the electric air buzzing around the arena, Adrian’s expression only darkened.
Elana still hadn’t used her armant—not once. She hadn’t even attempted to use those runes etched on her batons All she relied on was raw, brutal physicality to tear through the earlier stage, and while that earned her no penalty against mindless training dolls, this next stage would not be so forgiving. It would corner her, force her hand, push her toward the very thing she kept dodging.
He couldn’t choose the easy route for her—not without raising suspicion. Not without others questioning his fairness. Not without Elana herself becoming a target.
So he stuck to the original plan.
Adrian flicked an orb into the air.
The crowd leaned forward, expecting sothing monstrous, sothing even more terrifying than the water dragon he had summoned during the previous trial.
But when the orb clattered against the ground and began to twist and distort, a wave of gasps rolled across the stands.
"Is that...?"
"No way—that’s really..."
Legs sprouted first—towering, stone-dense, thick as pillars. A torso followed, shoulders broad enough to hold up a roof, then arms carved like chiseled slabs. Finally, a head rose from the forming neck, two dull yellow eyes flickering to life and locking onto Elana.
A six-foot-sothing Golem stood before her, its body humming—no, throbbing—with violent mana.
Elana inhaled once, sharp and steady, and launched forward.
Her batons snapped into her palms. She leapt the mont the Golem lifted its arm, her ascent strong enough to vault her clean over the creature’s extended reach. In mid-air, her baton shot backward, carving a ruthless arc toward the Golem’s head.
But she made one mistake.
She forgot the Golem wasn’t bound by physical limits.
*DA-BOOOOM!*
A fireball detonated point-blank, engulfing her in a burst of heat and pressure. Elana’s body was flung like a ragdoll, crashing brutally into the dividing wall between the stages.
The audience erupted—not in cheers, but in shock.
For the first ti today, they had seen Elana take a hit. A real one. A brutal one.
The academy uniforms were heat-resistant, woven with threaded enchantnts to counter burns. They did their job—but no fabric could cushion the sheer impact. The thundering *crack* that followed her collision made that painfully clear.
She felt that. Everyone knew she felt that.
Getting up, Elana dragged the back of her hand across her nose—wiping away a thin sar of blood—before her figure snapped out of sight.
A sharp *crack* split the air as her baton sliced past the Golem’s shoulder, so close it shaved sparks off the stone hide. The creature jerked back, its arm rising once more, orange mana swirling and condensing into a pulsing sphere in its palm.
This ti, Elana didn’t wait.
She dropped her batons mid-dash, palms shooting out as she seized the Golem’s thick wrist. Using its own limb as an axis, she twisted—legs whipping around its arm in a clean, fluid spin—before driving her heel straight into the side of its head.
*DHAK!*
A tremor ran down the Golem’s entire fra. It actually staggered—stone grinding, mana cracking—evidence that the kick carried far more reinforcent than Elana consciously channelled.
The silver-haired student landed lightly, snatching her batons from the floor without breaking montum. The mont her grip tightened, she charged again.
The Golem thrust its torso forward, arm extending, palm glowing—an unmistakable precursor to another blast.
Elana reacted instantly, dropping into a duck—
—but instead of fire, a massive tal leg swung toward her face like a guillotine.
Her eyes widened.
She had no room, no angle, no ti.
Instinct took over.
She brought her arms up in a tight X-guard.
*THUNK!*
The kick hamred into her, lifting her completely off the ground. The shock rippled through her bones as her back arched mid-air.
Before she could recover, the Golem leapt after her—its colossal bulk defying gravity, rising with terrifying speed. Flas curled around its fist as it spun, a full-body rotation powered by inhuman strength.
Elana saw the blazing arc for only a heartbeat.
Not enough to evade.
Barely enough to brace.
**DOOOOM!**
She was driven into the arena like a falling star. The crash shook the mat, the resulting explosion swallowing her in a violent burst of fire and debris. Smoke roared upward, blanketing the entire center of the gym in a thick, suffocating plu.
Every student froze.
Every breath hitched.
The top-ranked prodigy—the unbeatable silver head—was being manhandled, beaten into the floor by a conjured monster with no hesitation, no rcy, no restraint.
For the first ti since the assessnt began, the entire arena fell silent. Not out of fear for the Golem...
...but out of fear for Elana.
But then, they all felt it.
The aura of the strongest sweeping through the arena.
A cold wave that froze even the instructors.
If the golem’s presence was huge then this was just an ocean.
The air stilled and everyone held their breath as they saw the silver head rising from the smoke.
Adrian nodded, a faint smile on his face.
He had achieved what he wanted.
’Co on, Elana. Let the world see why you are the face of the Runebound Academy.’
°°°°°°°
A/N:- Thanks for reading.
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