The morning sun cast a golden hue over Korvath's bustling training grounds. Adventurers of all kinds filled the plaza, each heading toward their respective exam halls. Today was Omina's turn.
Unlike Yoshiya's healer examination, the fighter's test carried an unmistakable tension—metal clashed in the distance, punctuated by instructors barking orders. Omina adjusted the straps of her leather armor and tightened her grip on her sword.
Yoshiya walked beside her, noticing the subtle tremor in her hands. "You'll do great," he said with a reassuring smile.
She exhaled slowly. "Yeah… just need to focus."
Inside the grand training hall, dozens of candidates stood at attention while an examiner with a booming voice addressed them.
"Today's test will measure not only your skill, but your resolve. Blade Master candidates must demonstrate control, adaptability, and the ability to protect and strike with precision. There will be no second chances."
Omina glanced around. Many were seasoned adventurers. A few faces were familiar—including Kaito Mugenrei, standing confidently near the front. Their eyes met briefly; he gave a faint grin before turning back to the examiner.
The first phase was individual skill display. Candidates were called one by one to execute advanced sword techniques against enchanted training dummies.
When Omina's name was called, she stepped into the arena and drew her sword with practiced precision. She moved like a flowing current—quick, decisive strikes, each blow carving clean lines into the enchanted targets. Her final slash released a faint shockwave, earning approving nods from some instructors.
"Solid form," one whispered to another. "She's got discipline."
The second and final stage was the combat simulator. Candidates were paired against instructors—seasoned Blade Masters—inside a magically enhanced arena that projected battlefield illusions.
When it was her turn, Omina found herself facing a tall, broad-shouldered instructor wielding a massive claymore.
The whistle blew.
The fight began with a furious exchange of strikes. Omina's speed allowed her to dodge and counter, but her opponent's strength kept pushing her back. The simulated terrain shifted beneath their feet—an illusory battlefield filled with rubble and uneven ground.
Sweat rolled down Omina's temple as the instructor cornered her with heavy swings. She gritted her teeth.
I'm at a disadvantage… If I keep fighting like this, I won't break through.
Her heartbeat quickened. The temptation crept in. Berserk Mode. She'd used it before, but it always came with a terrifying loss of control.
Should I risk it?
She hesitated. One wrong move in this controlled exam could end her chance completely.
Another crushing blow sent her sliding backward. Instinct took over. Her eyes flashed, and she roared—activating Berserk unintentionally.
Her movements became wild, faster, more aggressive. She launched into a Sword Frenzy, overwhelming the instructor with relentless strikes. The crowd gasped as she pushed the veteran fighter onto the defensive.
Up in the viewing gallery, Yoshiya clenched the railing. "Omina…"
The instructor managed to parry most of her strikes, but one wild swing grazed his shoulder. He immediately raised his hand—the signal to stop.
A blast of magic froze the simulation. Omina stood there panting, the crimson haze fading from her eyes.
But instead of collapsing like before, she remained standing. Her mind cleared. She realized the side effects she once feared weren't from the Berserk state itself—it was exhaustion from their previous adventures.
The examiner approached her, stern but impressed. "Control returned the moment you recognized your error. Good."
She bowed deeply, a silent apology for the hit. The instructor merely smirked. "Power without restraint is chaos. You recovered well."
By late afternoon, the candidates gathered in the central arena. The sky was streaked orange, and anticipation hung thick in the air.
The examiner called out names one by one. Each successful candidate stepped forward to receive their promotion insignia.
"Omina Mizuraga. Blade Master—Passed."
A wave of relief and pride washed over her. She walked forward, receiving a crimson ribbon tied to her sword hilt, the symbol of a newly promoted Blade Master.
"Kaito Mugenrei. Blade Master—Passed."
Kaito strode forward confidently, accepting his insignia with a salute. He caught Omina's gaze and gave a respectful nod. She returned it with a small grin. A silent acknowledgment between equals.
The instructor she had faced earlier approached her afterward. "Power is nothing without control. You showed both today. Welcome, Blade Master."
Cheers echoed through the arena as Omina and the other new Blade Masters raised their blades toward the sky.
That evening, Omina and Yoshiya sat on a bench overlooking the city lights of Korvath. She rested her sword on her knees, running her fingers over the crimson ribbon.
"I did it," she whispered.
Yoshiya smiled. "You earned it."
But deep inside, Omina wasn't just proud—she was determined. She'd faced her fear, embraced her power, and stood tall among warriors.
Tomorrow, a new chapter would begin.