Somewhere, in the lavish halls of a grand building, people of all shapes and sizes flooded through a wide corridor. There were humans, elves, dwarves, vaella (fury demi-humans), and even a small amount of baella (non-fury demi-humans).
It opened into an expansive, circular structure of polished stone, fitted with a curving row of seats that surrounded a rather large platform of somewhat similar material, by the looks of it. Snowflakes danced elegantly in their descent from the blue-tinged sky, casting a pristine, otherworldly glimmer to the atmosphere.
In total, it resembled a colosseum, only less ancient and… barbaric.
The numerous bodies spilling into the stadium were being led by a group of three, distinguishable and professional-looking figures, each exuding such precise control over their mana cores to the point where it was nearly impossible to pick up on their presence by sensing it.
Nearly.
"Attention, all examinees!"
A young man clad in a suit of standard yet pristine, state-of-the-art armor yelled, repeating himself in an orderly fashion. "Follow a single file line as you make your way into the stands. There is no seating arrangement, but please be mindful of the others around you! You shall each be called upon one at a time so that you may be tested individually!"
Like this, the people fell into a routine as the stands were slowly filled.
Standing on the platform were two other figures—another young man adorned in armor, only less extravagant and seemingly more practical, and a woman wearing clandestine robes, wielding a wand embedded with a ruby gem at its point.
Soon, the first row was filled. Then the second, then the third, and finally, even the fourth.
The examiners all sighed under their breath, silently lamenting their fates.
'Had this rapid gate-opening catastrophe not happened, there wouldn't be as many people required to test. Such an unfortunate luck,' was probably along the lines of what they were thinking.
They would be correct, if so.
It had caused a major stoppage in the amount of new adventurers—so much so that most of the ones here had admitted themselves to the guild months prior, only to now get a chance at finally finishing their rank evaluation.
Truly, it was unfortunate luck that the examiners would have to get through so many of them at a time. Not to mention the fact that a lot of these were probably rank re-evaluations.
But alas, it was their profession. Still… there would be no harm in calling for support, the lady adorned in robes of them seemed to think, pulling out a scroll and scribbling something on it before it disappeared.
Shortly after, three more examiners showed up.
After what felt like an eternity, all of the seats were now filled, with no lingering examinees.
Everyone was properly seated.
Examiner Ardeen—the lead one today, wearing his sleek suit of armor and sword holstered at his waist—turned his head and began flipping through a notepad pinned onto a clipping board with almost ten fully filled pages.
It was complete with the dates of when each person registered, alongside general information about them, such as their magic core levels, specialties, and mage type.
He felt a strong desire to yell at the top of his lungs before simply resigning to his fate, calling out the first name.
"Examinee Graham! Step on to the platform so that we may begin your rank evaluation!"
A burly, muscular man wearing little-to-no armor and wielding a large buster sword that rested on his shoulders rose from the stands. Standing at a domineering six-foot frame, he looked more like a hunk of muscle than the dwarf that he was.
Thankfully, he had chosen to position himself on the last row, making it much easier for the others around him to be seated without worrying about his stature.
He confidently made his way down the flight of steps before briefly stopping, casting a wary glance at a man sitting on the edge of one of the rows right next to him. There was an outstretched leg obstructing his path.
The younger—and much smaller—man snickered amongst his friends, feigning ignorance to the situation.
"So yeah, then I invited her over to have dinner at my place, but the second we got into my estate, she dropped her dress like it was nothing! I didn't even have to do much, haha. Man, I'm telling you, mundane women are such—agh!" A gasp rolled over the crowd.
Raised upside down by his outstretched leg, the flaunting man dangled helplessly under the grasp of Examinee Graham. He eyed him menacingly.
"Oi! The hell do you think you're doing, you meat sack!? Do you even know who I am? I'd advise you to not anger me! Let me go, right this instance!"
The burly man huffed under his breath, still staring unshakenly. After a beat or two worth of silence, he merely smirked. "Sure."
Then, the arrogant man was sent crashing into his group of friends, each of them staring daggers at his back—yet too shaken to truly make a move. "You bastard!" "How dare you!" "You'll pay for this!"
Truly, the epitome of human stupidity.
Graham continued down the flight of steps unperturbed for the rest of his descent. Soon, a shouted command brought a thin, translucent barrier of mana to life around the testing platform, shielding those in the stands.
And finally, the first rank evaluation in months began—with many, many more to come…
***
Hours soon passed by of this routine.
The variations of test examinees was astounding, yet the examiners were steadfast and unyielding, never once dulling their senses or blades. Or in this case, wands.
Wind magic whirled around the testing platform, sharp and as lethal as daggers aimed to kill.
…Of course, that was a mere illusion, as the rules clearly stated no lethalities will be tolerated, but the examiners' ruthlessness seemed to protest otherwise.
Examinee Grenda swiftly chanted under her breath as six blades of wind shot at her, forming a dense water barrier around herself which seemed to drown the impact of the wind blades.
"Yes!"
Excitement coursed through her veins, seeing the result of her practice come to fruition.
A dark glint flashed across Lady Nuela's—one of the original examiners present—expression, and she soon flicked her wand, commanding the remaining two blades to a halt.
Grenda's face grew surprised as her opponent released a chant, bringing to life balls of flame that merged with the blades, enhancing them. Examiner Nuela sighed under her breath.
"Let us see just how long you'll be able to last within that prison of yours…" [Flaming Winds.]
Immediately, the swirling scythes of fire crashed into the barrier, before being… vaporized into steam?
Soon, two more scythes were conjured, coming to the same result as the other two. Then three, then five, then seven—each reaching the conclusion of their predecessors. Lady Nuela seemed undisturbed by this, though, continuing onward.
Meanwhile, uncertainty rolled through the crowd, whispers already amounting. "What the hell is she doing? Clearly her attacks have no effect!" "So, she's just going to spam? The heck…"
…A few mages in the stands seemed to understand, however, a few of them already privy to the result of this battle from the very beginning.
For each spell that fruitlessly managed to pierce the barrier, a rather strong outburst of steam was birthed.
At first, it was only a little bit, but it eventually built up and even managed to obscure the examiner hiding within the water barrier herself, leaving the onlookers curious.
…Which was exactly where the best place to be in such a situation was; unknowing and curious.
Hidden underneath the steam, Grenda struggled to breathe as the oxygen within the barrier was taken from her, replaced with scalding hot steam.
Her vision came in and out in blurry flashes as she stood her ground, her will and determination fierce and unyielding.
…Only, unfortunately for her, she was not yet at a position to where her will held enough significance in the face of such a cunning opponent.
Soon her spell came apart, leaving her clawing for air amidst the aftermath. Light burn marks highlighted themselves across her otherwise smooth, chocolate skin.
Lady Nuela must've sensed the change in the atmosphere, because the second her spell was let loose, winds carried away the leftover mist from their clash, like a brief, passing morning dew.
Revealed in their center was a young woman with honey-blonde hair and comfortable clothing, collapsed to her knees and coughing fiercely.
The stadium erupted with gasps and stunned expressions, forced with the revelation that their previous understanding of the situation was incorrect. Others merely felt a dark anticipation, wondering just how they would fare against such a resourceful opponent.
All in all, one realization settled among the examinees, both experienced and inexperienced.
That in the face of an insightful and cunning opponent, their previous notions of strength were flawed and limited, failing to properly account for such scenarios.
Of course, not all of them had such a narrow viewpoint, but that was few and far between.
The test examiner broke into a short stride, her eyes taking in her previous-opponent's state.
She spun her wand into a passive position, bringing a notepad up.
"Examinee Glenda. Though you possess exceptional control over your mana and bear a rather unyielding resilience for your age, both traits are overshadowed by your dependence on your family's special divergent art."
Her voice was stern yet instructional.
"True expression lies in breaking away from comfort, and the promise of your potential is confined by reliance—never to break free unless you step beyond it. For now, I recommend that you learn to think much further ahead in your battles. Figure out what's the next step after your Ocean's Shield is rendered useless, or even a burden, as is the case now. I hereby declare you as a C-minus-rank adventurer."
The girl recovered herself, a solemn expression creeping into her expression as she slowly bowed, received an official slip of rank confirmation, and made her way back through the hall in which everyone originally entered; her head never rising.
A silence overcame the stands as the instructors called out yet another name, continuing onwards with their routine.
In total, close to forty people were examined that day, with a few fights in particular being exciting and quite interesting to watch. There was a young girl clad in exquisite layers of white and dark gray robes, loose enough for her to move in freely.
Long silver hair cascaded past her shoulders in soft waves that shimmered faintly, each strand seeming to shift between pale grey and alabaster, matching the color of her eyes.
In her right hand, she wielded an obsidian-forged wand embedded with a pure white gem.
Her magic was unique in the way that it seemed to mold into whatever construct she desired, switching between states of matter at will, as well.
One moment it was liquid, flowing smoothly as one coherent stream, and in the next, it was as solid and sustainable as the most durable of metals—unshaken, unblemished, and unyielding.
Truly, it was a mighty special divergent art.
And her cunning, resourceful mind only enhanced its capabilities.
She was a strategist at heart, yet worked in a passive manner—waiting, playing off of her opponents mistakes.
A young boy stepped up after her rank was assigned—a staggering B-minus, eliciting shocked whispers and murmurs.
His long, vibrant red hair was styled in a wild ponytail that tumbled past his shoulders in unkempt, windblown waves that seemed to move even when the air was still, adorned with a golden ornament keeping his hair in its fashion.
A sharp and predatory, golden-eyed gaze swept around the stadium as he settled on the platform, his confidence radiant. No one even bothered to make eye contact with the boy.
…Except for a few select people, including the test examiners.
His clothes were, perhaps, the most unique of them all, thus far.
A dark colored split skirt reminiscent of a Japanese hakama, and an ornate kimono-like piece of clothing with red decorative elements; all accentuated by a sheathed long sword positioned on his lower back.
By the time he was finished, the snow surrounding the platform had melted by quite a large amount, warming up the stands with the after effects of his fierce battle.
Even the examiner responsible for taking care of him (and by extension, other enhancers) seemed tired and drained by the arduous battle.
In the end, though, he, too, walked away with a B-minus… one of the only three people thus far to have been assigned one. Excited chatter overcame the seating area as people discussed the ferocity of that fight, which seemed to last oh so long.
"Dang… two monsters back-to-back. Just who the hell are these rookies nowadays?"
"Yeah, man. I've never heard of two B-ranks being assigned immediately after each other. Haha, we could be witnessing history itself right now!"
"That's true, hehe. I wonder who this next guy will be…! You think he'll be able to match the others? Triple B-ranks, even?!"
"Yeah, as if. Tell you what, if something like that happens, I'll personally let you shave my head bald!"
"Oh, you are so on!"
Soon after, a woman stepped forward to take the examiner's place, her eyes searching down her notepad.
It was Lady Nuela once again.
Eventually, her eyes stopped as she called out the name of her next examinee, echoing through the stadium with a strange solemnity.
"Examinee Crownless," she began, "Please step forward so that we may begin your rank evaluation!"
For a moment, her words went unchallenged; no one rising to meet them.
Confused glances were exchanged amongst each other, people searching for this mysterious person—craving the next exciting spectacle.
Unfortunately for them, nothing like that seemed to be on the forecast today.
…At least that was, until another boy stood from his seat, leaving a small, silver fox behind with ethereal magenta eyes.
As he made his way down from the stands, the attention, expectations, and hopes of others all silently weighed down on him, unbeknownst even to himself.
The boy's mind was clear and focused, with only one goal centered.
To achieve the best results possible. That was what kept his feet moving forward.
Soon enough, he reached the platform, his expression solemn.
…Or rather, slightly amused.
A small smirk seemed to have found its way onto his face as he regarded his examiner.
Lady Nuela's brows furrowed ever-so-slightly with intrigue, seeing this.
"Examinee Crownless. You appear to be in quite the good mood. It is quite refreshing to see someone seemingly eager for once." Her stance shifted. "Is there any particular reason?"
"Oh, no reason at all. Please, bear my actions no mind," he merely said, hand reaching for the single braid of hair that hung loosely, tucking it behind his right ear. There was a beat of silence before any of the two said anything else.
"...I see. Very well then," Lady Nuela affirmed, putting away her notepad and brandishing her wand.
"Then, in accordance with the rules, we shall now—"
"Wait just one second, Examiner Nuela," a respectful voice called from behind, interrupting.
"I've been given express permission to handle this particular individual myself, if you don't mind. A rookie sponsored by House Vorlet brings quite the attention and intrigue, as I'm sure you know quite well yourself."
A man with a dark colored, sleek attire marked with pauldrons that accentuated the contrast between his suit and his light armor, stepped forward from beyond the shadows of the corridor, a teasing smile playing on his lips.
"Don't worry, it will be brief. That much, I can assure you."
The examiners all turned to him, eyes flickering with surprise and hints of respect. Nuela was the first to address him. "Ah, Master Harghen. A pleasant surprise to see you here today."
Gasps and chatter overcame the crowd in the stands, and her attention briefly flickered to the examinee standing before her, considering something distantly, before returning.
"I see. I admit, I was quite curious, but this truly seals the deal… In any case, in accordance with the rules, I shall step aside and allow you to undergo your special examination. May Her Lady's blessings be with you."
And with that, the experienced woman stepped aside, giving way to the newcomer… who also seemed quite experienced himself, considering he was called Master.
In the world of adventuring, guilds of all kinds each possess a hierarchy system.
Initiate, Member, Master, Saint, and Guild Leader, were the rankings.
If that man had the title of a Master, then it meant that not only was he quite well versed in the inner-workings of the society of adventurers, but also it showed that he was quite the competent one in terms of combat. Most likely, he was a part of the Adventurer's Guild.
Meaning that Seraphis… or rather, Crownless, had his work cut out for him.
Resting his hand on his thin rapier, Master Harghen stepped forward, extending his arms as an undercurrent of mana carried his voice throughout the stadium effortlessly.
"Examinee Crownless, welcome to your Rank Examination Test. It's a pleasure to have you here—as well as everyone else present. Forgive me, but your ties to House Vorlet require us to deem you as a person of interest. Therefore, I have been sent to test you personally."
His sharp eyes narrowed. "I hope you don't mind."
Crownless put a foot forward, clearly undisturbed by the situation.
"Is that the case? I see, then… No worries, this should make things a bit more interesting for me, as well."
Master Harghen tilted his head curiously. "Really? And just what do you mean by that, exactly?"
"Sorry, but I'd prefer it if I didn't say too much. I can tell at a glance that you're hiding your true capabilities. It wouldn't be fair if only one of us knew about the other before the battle started, would it?"
His words rolled over the crowd, eliciting a series of comments, both spiteful and slightly admiring.
"That bastard… Just who does he think he is, talking to Master Harghen like that?!"
"Tch. Damn rookies. Don't be too angry with him, he's still a mere child. He'll learn eventually."
"Hah. The kid's got guts. I like him already."
"Yeah, no kidding. Almost makes me wanna root for the guy. Almost…"
Even the examiners appeared a bit stunned by the boy's straightforwardness.
…However, his examiner seemed even more amused—if that was even possible.
"Ah. I suppose you are correct then. Very well, allow us to talk no further. May our weapons converse in our stead, and M'ansmoir be the guiding precision that cuts through even a cloudless night." The polished silver blade of his rapier was finally revealed, scintillating in the chilly atmosphere, and he shifted his stance into something relaxed and passive, standing upright, and with it pointed towards his opponent.
Across from him, Seraphis adjusted his white, fur-lined overcoat held together by an elaborate brooch, which was reminiscent of ceremonial wear with its delicate embroidery.
Beneath it, he wore layers of intricate black robes, fitting both close and loosely on his body, his long sleeves adorned with subtle markings that increased his elemental resistance.
A slim, and rather undetailed black rod appeared in his hand from a faint whirlwind of sparks, which he unsheathed to reveal a straight and slender blade, extending in a seamless line from hilt to tip, with no curve to break its silhouette.
Its point was gently tapered to a clean edge, and its handle was a long, flat, rectangular grip.
The blade itself was also a polished silver.
To on-lookers, the sword would've appeared quite… comedical.
As if it was better fit to be a grass-cutter instead.
However, in the hands of its wielder, it felt perfectly balanced and efficient—existing as the purest form of expression for his swordsmanship.
The lack of a guard, wrappings, or even embellishment only seemed to point towards a weapon forged with one intent: precision, agility, and presence.
…Although technically, that was three.
Soon, a thin barrier of mana shimmered to life, and a commanded shout carried through the stadium, sparking both mages into motion.
"Begin!"
***
SERAPHIS ELTATH VERLICE
I exploded into motion, mana already surging within my body as I met my opponents strike with the flat of my blade.
Metal clanged as our eyes met with each other; a preluding lull, like the pause between notes in a dirge only fate could compose.
Surprise, slight anticipation, and a nascent understanding flickered within Master Harghen's eyes, gone in the next second and forced against the backdrop of battle clarity.
…Similarly, a budding understanding emerged from my own.
His weight shifted, pivoting his foot as he spun to my right, bringing his sword around in a swipe.
Instead of catching the strike, I jumped back a short distance, slipping beyond his range and twisting my body.
My left arm swung around and a scorching ball of fire flew straight at him.
At the same time, I conjured a gust of wind at my feet and lunged, closing the distance between us. His rapier pierced through the first spell, dispersing it in an interaction I couldn't quite explain, but he hadn't expected me to be following behind it.
…Or rather, he did, actually, his weapon already poised to retaliate against a downward slash.
I feinted, finally activating my wind spell that I'd conjured beforehand, bringing me directly behind him. [Swift Step].
"Too slow…!"
He spun around and our weapons clashed against one another, turning into a fierce clash.
Master Harghen was a tenacious opponent, one who didn't budge very much, despite being under a relentless assault of steel.
He was quiet, confident, and patient; evident in the way he held his sword, his center of gravity, and the amount of space he occupied both when attacking and defending.
Such an opponent would be extremely hard to deal with.
Not only was it like he was all-seeing, capable of reacting to my attacks perfectly, but he hardly ever shifted his footing.
But there were ways to deal with people like this.
The fact that it exists means that it's flawed and approachable. If it was perfect and unbeatable, it wouldn't exist in this world.
It only meant that I'd have to work that much harder to deal with it—but then again, when wasn't one working hard in life?
Eventually, our mesh of steel was interrupted as our swords broke away from each other.
I stepped in, sensing an opportunity, but was immediately forced out of his space.
His blade thrusted, and I ducked underneath it, followed by an immediate counter-attack aimed at his legs.
He stepped back with minimal movement, completely evading it, and followed up with an attack of his own.
I jumped out of his range, coming to a stop a few feet away. Slowly, I unfurled from my crouching position.
This bastard. He's hard to hit… How exactly do I beat someone like that?
Spam him with spells from long-range? Try to trap his feet using earth magic? Overstimulate him? …Kill him, even?
As I was busy considering all sorts of possibilities, he seemed to relax, stretching slightly.
Then, he met my eye. "Ahaha. You're good, a lot better than I thought, that's for sure," he began, his tone genuinely entertained, "However… I think it's time I switch things up. Forgive me, but that sort of fighting style—playing defensively and passively—has never really been my cup of tea. I use it to get an idea of the type of opponent I'd be fighting."
He paused, bringing his rapier up again, tensing. "And now that I have a solid foundation, it's time I stretch my limbs a bit…!"
In the next second, he was on top of me, his sword thrusting. I hardly had enough time to bring my own up to block it, so I sidestepped out of the way, only to be met with yet another attack, chaining into a fierce combination that sacrificed neither speed nor precision for power.
Our blades stretched into a sustained note that rang out through the stadium, like a song of steel, except its composers were locked in a battle against one another, pulling for control—changing the tempo and rhythm at will.
He stepped out, looking to get enough distance in order to strike again, but I stepped into his space to dissuade that.
My sword sang as it cut through the air, carving an upward, silver arc.
His position shifted ever-so-slightly in order to avoid it, and he moved to my side, instead.
Once more, our blades rang out as they clashed, reverberating through our bodies.
It only ended when I went for a cheeky strike aimed toward his center, which he dodged, but not without consequence. A piece of his pristine uniform fluttered to the ground as we made sufficient space in between ourselves, eyes still prying for opportunity.
Surprised murmurs rolled through the stadium.
As Master Harghen inspected himself, a genuine chuckle escaped his lips that seemed to surprise even him.
"Truly extraordinary," he said, gawking, "I haven't met someone such as yourself in ages, able to dish out and receive so many attacks without a single blow. Your skill belies your age, Examinee Crownless. I'm beginning to regret having ever underestimated you, really."
I stood from my battle-ready position, not bothering to hide the amusement on my face. My voice carried itself through the examination arena with profound ease.
"Master Harghen, your words of praise are far too indulgent for someone such as myself. Please, do refrain," I began, eyes narrowing, "...Otherwise, you'll begin to believe in them yourself."
A ripple seemed to roll throughout the stadium at this, a few examiners twitching slightly, even. The mass of the crowd didn't seem to understand what I meant, but others definitely did.
Master Harghen, however, didn't seem too bothered by it. Amused, even.
…A knowing smile creeped into his expression, and he stifled his laughter.
"Truly extraordinary… I've thoroughly enjoyed our battle thus far, that much is true, and I hope for it to continue in such an entertaining manner, up until the very end. Don't disappoint me now."
"But, of course, I wouldn't dare to," I replied.
His eyes narrowed—even more than they already were at—and he sighed, stabbing his rapier into the ground and rotating his wrist in a flexing manner. "Such lofty words, boy. I sincerely hope you can deliver on your promise."
There was a brief pause before he continued. "In any case, why don't we put a final end to these… charades of ours. Give the audience—and ourselves—what they want."
I eyed him carefully, my tone measured as I asked, "Just what exactly do you mean by that, I wonder?" and he snapped back at me with precision.
"Dear Examinee. Don't think for a second that you've fooled me in the same way that you've fooled the rest. Haven't you heard? A battle between two people is nothing but a conversation, at its core, one that cannot be expressed with mere words. And so far, you've done nothing but tell me that you are holding back quite a bit in your current state. At this rate, you'll be assigned a C-rank."
A breath of silence passed as I considered his words, a myriad of thoughts racing in my mind. Eventually, I plucked the easiest thread, giving in to his provocation.
"...I suppose I have no choice, then." I closed my eyes, piercing the ground with my sword and resting both my hands on it as I drew on my connection with Seraphina—whose worry and anxiety I could feel from the stands.
Don't worry. I can handle this, I sent to her.
Then, I concentrated. For how long, I was unaware, but it had to have been a ten-second lull at least, before things changed..
"Come forth, Seere."
Warmth spread through my body, starting from my magic core, which burned with a radiant silver sheen, blossoming outward until its heat suffused every limb.
My senses sharpened to an unnatural degree, colors bleeding more vividly, the subtle rise and fall of my opponent's chest becoming a mixture of sight-based observation and hearing-based, and a golden rune came to life on my right hand.
A mane of silver-white hair spilled over my shoulders in flowing tresses, brushing down to the small of my back, and my ears elongated, tapering to delicate points.
I felt my reflexes grow honed, movement presenting itself to me on instinct in a way that allowed my body to react to the slightest stimuli without the need for my mind to catch up.
"This form… It sure takes some time to get used to."
[Beast Stigma, First Manifestation Aspect: Seere (Physique)]