The combat room looked more like an arena disguised as a classroom. Desks lined the walls in neat rows, but at the center was a massive pit deep, circular, and lined with reinforced mana plates that still bore the scars of past battles.
As I stepped inside, the air felt heavier, almost charged. Students whispered among themselves, some nervous, others trying too hard to look confident.
Then the door opened.
Silence fell instantly.
Each click of her heels echoed like a countdown. The woman who entered wasn't just intimidating she was the embodiment of discipline and violence wrapped in human form.
Her name was whispered before she even reached the pit.
Valerica Auren.
She was tall, lean, and carried herself like someone who'd survived a hundred wars and expected to survive a hundred more. From her forearms extended two immense blades that seemed to grow from her flesh silver and humming faintly with caged energy. Her eyes, a piercing shade of steel gray, swept across the room, dissecting every student they landed on.
When she spoke, her voice wasn't loud, but it carried calm, precise, and sharp enough to cut through nerves.
"Diamond Class," she began, stopping at the edge of the pit. "I am Instructor Valerica Auren, your practical combat examiner. Today, we determine whether your perfect scores mean anything when faced with blood, pressure, and fear."
A ripple of unease passed through the room. One student coughed just to fill the silence and immediately regretted it when Valerica's gaze snapped to him.
She turned her attention back to the pit, raising one bladed arm and pointing downward.
"Step forward when your name is called. You will face either a summoned opponent or one of your peers. Use whatever Endowal or magic you possess but if you lose control…"
She tilted her head slightly, a faint metallic whisper following the motion.
"I will end the match myself."
The warning didn't sound like a threat. It sounded like a fact.
She scanned the class again her eyes lingered on me for a heartbeat longer than anyone else's, and in that moment, I couldn't tell if it was curiosity or expectation that glinted behind them.
"Let us begin."
The matches started fast. The air filled with the sound of mana bursts, clashing steel, and the thud of bodies hitting reinforced stone. Some students fought bravely. Others didn't last ten seconds.
Valerica didn't comment. She simply observed, expression unreadable, marking scores with the precision of a machine.
Then, after a particularly brutal bout that left one student sprawled in the pit while the healers rushed forward, she looked down at her clipboard… and then up again.
Her next words cut through the noise like a blade.
"Next," she said, eyes locking onto me.
A pause. Then her lips curved not a smile, just the ghost of one.
"Let's see if your perfect score holds up."
I stepped forward, the sound of my boots against the metal floor echoing through the silent room. The pit was larger than I expected up close big enough for a small army to train in and the mana runes along its edge pulsed faintly like a heartbeat.
Before Valerica could call an opponent for me, someone raised their hand.
"I'll volunteer," a voice said.
The class turned as a tall, broad-shouldered figure rose from his seat. His presence filled the space easily not just because of his size, but because of the calm confidence that came with it.
He stepped down into the pit opposite me, the ground trembling slightly beneath his weight. Despite his intimidating build, there was an easy smile on his face.
"I'm Garron Thayne," he said cheerfully, resting a massive hand over his chest in greeting. "Endowal: Fortress Hide. Don't worry, I'll try not to crush you too fast."
There was no mockery in his tone just genuine friendliness. He looked like the kind of guy who'd apologize after accidentally breaking a wall.
I gave a small nod, keeping my response simple. "Alright."
Turning away, I walked to the weapon rack by the edge of the pit. Rows of armaments gleamed beneath the faint mana lighting spears, axes, hammers, even enchanted gauntlets. My hand hovered for a moment before settling on something plain: a standard iron sword.
No enchantments. No hidden edge. Just steel and balance.
As I gripped the hilt, the familiar weight grounded me.
Valerica's voice sliced through the quiet.
"Combatants ready."
Garron rolled his shoulders, the air around him shimmering faintly as a layer of translucent armor rippled across his skin his Endowal activating like living stone.
"Try not to hold back too much," he said with a grin.
I took my stance, blade low, eyes locked on him.
Valerica raised one bladed arm.
"Begin."
The instant Valerica's arm dropped, Garron moved.
For someone his size, he was fast. The floor cracked beneath his charge, each step sending tremors through the arena. His Endowal flared, the translucent layer of energy around his body hardening into plates of stone-like armor.
He came in with a wide swing more like a battering ram than a punch.
I sidestepped, barely, the gust of air from his blow brushing my face. The impact against the ground sounded like thunder. Dust burst into the air.
"Whoa," he said, grinning as he turned. "You're light on your feet."
I didn't reply. I stepped in, low and quick, slashing at his ribs a clean cut that would've drawn blood on anyone else.
Clang.
The blade barely left a mark.
"Sorry," Garron said sheepishly, tapping his chest where the sword hit. "Fortress Hide. You'll need more than that."
I exhaled through my nose, taking a half-step back. He was right brute force wasn't going to do anything. But brute force wasn't what I relied on.
Garron lunged again, his movements surprisingly disciplined each strike heavy but deliberate, meant to corner and crush. I ducked, pivoted, letting his momentum work against him. Each miss chipped the floor, sent shards of stone flying.
He wasn't just strong he was measured. But still predictable.
I noticed it by the fourth swing: he favored his left side slightly when he braced for impact meaning that's where his balance dropped for a heartbeat.
So I waited.
Another punch. I dodged. Another I feinted a stumble, inviting him closer.
Garron took the bait. His smile widened, confident.
"Gotcha—"
I dropped low, sliding beneath his guard, my sword angled backward. In one motion, I slashed across the back of his knee right at the joint between armor plates.
A loud crack of impact echoed as the energy shell flickered. Garron's knee buckled, and he dropped down on one leg.
Before he could recover, I rose, placing the flat of my blade against his throat.
Silence.
Even Valerica's eyes narrowed slightly not in disapproval, but in faint intrigue.
Garron blinked, then laughed deep and genuine. "Well, damn. You actually found a weak spot."
I stepped back, lowering my sword. "Armor always has one."
He grinned wider, rubbing the back of his neck as the glow of his Endowal faded. "Guess I'll remember that next time."
Valerica's voice cut through the murmurs from the spectators.
"Match over. Victory." her gaze lingered on me, unreadable.
She turned slightly, her tone calm but edged with faint curiosity.
"Efficient. Clean. No magic. No Endowal. Remember this, Diamond Class power means nothing if you can't think."
The murmurs rose louder this time some impressed, others doubtful. Garron gave me a respectful nod before heading back to the seats, his heavy steps echoing.
As I place sword on the rack and climbed out of the pit, I could still feel Valerica's eyes on me cold, calculating, but with the smallest flicker of interest.
A few more matches followed bursts of light, shouts, and the sharp smell of mana burning the air.
Some students fought well; others panicked, their spells collapsing mid-cast. A few had to be carried to the infirmary, pale and trembling.
By the time the last duel ended, the room stank of sweat, ozone, and blood.
Instructor Valerica dismissed us with a curt nod.
"You've all survived. Barely. Class dismissed."
I exhaled quietly, wiping the faint layer of dust off my sleeves as I stepped out of the pit.
The corridor outside was dim the sky beyond the windows painted in streaks of orange and red.
Had the whole afternoon really passed that fast?
The others talked in low voices, replaying their fights, comparing bruises, boasting or sulking. I didn't bother joining in.
By the time I reached the main gates, the sun was already kissing the horizon. The academy towers glowed in the last light, their spires catching fire in gold.
I just kept walking past the rows of marble statues, past the murmuring fountains until the noise of the school faded behind me.
Ryn's home wasn't far, but the walk felt longer than usual. Maybe it was the exhaustion setting in, or maybe the thought that this was only the first day.
Still… for the first time in a while, I found myself almost looking forward to what came next.
◇◇◇
The meeting room atop Elyndral Academy was quiet save for the faint hum of the wards woven into its walls. Long windows poured in the gold light of sunset, glinting off the polished obsidian table where the staff and Sentinels had gathered.
Professor Lysandra Veyrel stood at the front, her hands clasped behind her back. To her right sat the Headmistress, calm and unreadable behind her silver spectacles. Across from them, the Aurora Sentinels occupied their seats their leader, Selvaria Veyra Caelora, unmistakable in her red uniform trimmed with gold. Beside her sat the rest of the Aurora Sentinels, posture relaxed but eyes sharp. At the far end, Instructor Valerica Auren waited in silence, arms crossed, the faint metallic sheen of her blade-augmented limbs catching the light.
Lysandra began first.
"The Diamond Class has met expectations," she said evenly. "Their theory comprehension is high, and their practical application while unrefined shows promise."
She briefed them on every detail: class behavior, magical aptitude, combat performance. When she finished, the table was silent for a beat before Selvaria inclined her head slightly.
"Good," she said. "Now, let's discuss the standout cases."
Her gaze slid toward Kael.
"You spent a short amount of time him, didn't you? What's your assessment of Mr. Sanghāta?"
Kael leaned back in his chair, a lazy grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Cold," he said. "Secretive. I tried talking to him over lunch barely got three words. He's either painfully shy or incredibly disciplined."
Selvaria hummed softly, fingers drumming once on the table.
"Interesting. A mind that keeps its walls high tends to have something worth guarding."
Her eyes then shifted to Valerica.
"Instructor Auren. Your report on the combat trials?"
Valerica rose slightly, her expression as composed and sharp as her blades.
"Most students performed adequately," she said. "A few need extensive work on control and endurance. However, two stood out above the rest: Princess Tristan, and Sanghāta as its to be expected. "
That earned a murmur from one of the Sentinels. The Headmistress adjusted her spectacles.
"And the third-ranked student?" she asked.
Valerica's gaze flicked to her, tone steady.
"Timid. Excellent magical control and precision at range. But the moment an opponent closes distance, he folds. Complete surrender without resistance."
A brief silence followed, broken only by the faint ticking of the ward-clock on the wall.
Selvaria exhaled, resting her chin on her hand.
"So… two potential prodigies and one who doesn't yet know what to do with his fear."
Her eyes glinted.
"It seems Diamond Class will be more interesting than we thought."
The room settled again after Valerica's report, the low murmur of conversation dying when the Principal turned her sharp gaze toward the combat instructor.
"Instructor Auren," she said, voice smooth but edged. "During his match… did Mr. Sanghāta make use of his Endowal?"
Valerica shook her head once.
"No, Headmistress. Not a flicker of energy, not even a hint of activation. He fought entirely with physical skill."
The Principal hummed, folding her hands thoughtfully.
"Interesting. His Endowal is listed as a Transformation type… but the form remains unidentified. Records only note that it's a complete transformation."
That drew several curious glances around the table. Then the Yellow Sentinel, ever the bright and bubbly one, leaned forward with a grin.
"Maybe his transformation is a puppy!" she said cheerfully. "You know all quiet and broody now, but secretly a giant golden retriever inside."
Kael groaned and dragged a hand down his face.
"If it were anything canine," he muttered, "I'd have known. I had a Krysmil feather in my pocket their scent's imperceptible to humans but irresistible to canines. He didn't even twitch maybe a dragon."
Selvaria chuckled under her breath, while Valerica crossed her arms.
"If it were a dragon form, we'd have seen signs," she said coolly. "Transformers of that lineage always show a hoarding instinct territorial eyes, subtle reach toward objects of value. He displayed neither."
"Then what is he?" one of the lesser Sentinels murmured.
Their theories began to spiral phoenix, chimera, void-born each more unlikely than the last, until a knock at the door broke the hum of speculation.
An elf technician entered, his uniform smudged with oil and dust from the mana conduits. He bowed quickly.
"Apologies for the interruption, ma'am," he said to the Principal. "We re-examined the combat simulation every rune, every reading. There were no traces of Endowal or magic use during Mr. Sanghāta's assessment."
The Principal regarded him for a moment, then nodded.
"Very well. Thank you. You may go."
The elf gave another quick bow before slipping out.
For a moment, silence hung heavy. Then Selvaria exhaled softly, an amused glint in her eyes.
"No Endowal, no magic, and still ranked among the best. Either we've found a prodigy… or something the academy's never seen before."
The Principal gave a small, knowing smile.
"Perhaps both."
Chairs shifted as attention moved to new topics the second-year evaluations, the adjustments to next week's schedule but the undercurrent of curiosity remained.