Elara was standing next to an orc, it was taller than her by one head, it's rusty sword was resting on the ground, the creature was entirely restrained in webs. The monstrosity was trying its best to break free but its strength wasn't enough.
"Your final test is an actual combat. Since Dryads are healers most of the time, you can technically pass this part by simply surviving for 5 minutes."
Anna pressed her lips together. She didn't want to pass on a technicality. She wanted to prove herself.
"I'll kill it," she said, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of fear and excitement. The dryad made her way to the front, her jaw set in determination.
"Excellent," Elara grinned, her fangs peeking out, "Of course I'll step in if it looks fatal but other than that you are pretty much on your own."
Brock leaned towards Ryker, "You think she can do it?"
The last time they fought an orc together and she had a sword. Yet they still lost.
"I don't know but she looks determined," Ryker replied, but a knot of worry tightened in his stomach. He still had visions of her with that bloody rib sticking out, a memory that replayed in his mind like a broken film reel. His fingers twitched, ready to intervene if needed.
Elara sliced the web with a precise slash of her claws, and the prisoner was freed.
Immediately it went for its sword but Anna was faster. Her vines slithered from the ground, wrapping around the hilt and pulling the weapon towards her.
She tried lifting it but the heavy weight made her stumble backwards. It was far heavier than the shortsword she was used to.
The orc charged her, its tusk gleaming under the dim light of the moonlight. The beast's charge was a slow but lumbering thing, and she rolled away from it, stumbling but staying on her feet.
Raising her hands, she was aiming a vine at the orc's feet but another vine also appeared and wrapped itself around the heavy sword she was dragging. The metal lifted into the air.
Anna had her hands full as she was now controlling two different vines.
Ripping away the vine on its leg, the monstrosity took a heavy step and grabbed her sword in mid-air.
She flinched and her concentration was broken, the vine on the sword went limp, and the orc now had its weapon back.
Ryker's heart was pounding in his chest as he was about to intervene but a sharp look from Elara froze him in place.
It swung and swung. The heavy sword was making loud whooshing sounds as it missed Anna each time by a strand of hair. Her dodging skills were something else, she was nimble and quick but the beast kept the pressure on her.
She had to think of something fast.
The dryad took a deep breath, she planted her feet firmly on the ground, ignoring the heavy sword heading her way. She closed her eyes, focusing not on the swinging steel, but on the air around it.
Instead of using the ground, a new vine formed in front of her, out of thin air, pushing the sword away from her, using its own momentum, slicing the orc's own belly open. She parried it. A river of black blood spilled.
The beast roared in pain and anger, a raw guttural sound of disbelief. Stumbling back, it clutched its stomach.
Grabbing the sword, struggling to carry it with her small frame, she delivered a final thrust into the orc's chest, a swift merciless kill, reclaiming her dignity. A grunt from the monster and its final breath, a loud thud as the monster collapsed on the ground.
She turned around towards them, orcs blood staining her clothes, her face. She had a smile on her face, proud.
"See I got this," her voice was triumphant. The relief and pride written boldy on her face.
Ryker went to hug her but she was already swaying on her feet. He managed to catch her before she hit the ground, lifting her with ease.
"She sure is something," Elara mused, a respectful look in her four brown eyes before inspecting the dryad.
"She just need rest," the arachne said.
Anna was resting in Elara's lap, "Okay Brock your turn," she said as she freed another orc. It roared and flexed its muscles.
Brock's strategy was clear from the moment he stepped into the makeshift arena: beat the living shit out of the creature. His arms turned into stone. He sprinted toward the beast, a human-shaped battering ram. The orc swung its massive sword, a heavy arc of gleaming steel meant to cleave him in half.
Brock met it head-on. The sword struck his stone arm with a deafening clang, the impact sending shockwaves through the ground. Then the sword shattered into pieces. Brock didn't even flinch.
He punched the orc, again and again until it turned into a pile of meat, each strike a dull, sickening thud. That day the creature learned the reason golems rivaled minotaurs in strength.
"Creative," Ryker sarcastically said.
"Alright Ryker. You're the last one," Elara's multiple eyes fixed on him. The arachne set Anna gently on the grass, moving with an unnatural grace. A new orc was released from her webbing.
Ryker stepped forward, the smell of dead grass entering his nose.
He had no intention of making this a contest of raw strength. He would look foolish next to Brock. So he pulled on the threads of ice mana within him and coated his claws. A familiar, chilling sensation crept up his arms, but he embraced it, forcing it forward.
The orc bellowed a challenge and charged, its massive feet pounding against the hard-packed earth, its tusks gleaming like polished ivory.
Just like Anna, he dodged but also attacked it's back while he was passing him. His icy claws didn't slash deep but the effect was immediate.
He had expected the orc to bleed but the wound was actually frozen shut, preventing it from bleeding out. His attack was effectively voided. A mistake.
He had imbued his claws with too much ice mana, it had become a healing tool instead.
But this gave him an idea. An idea that made him grin stupidly. A truly terrible, nasty idea.
Dodging one more charge, almost being gored by its tusk, he decided to do it.
As the orc lumbered around for another charge, Ryker didn't coat his claw with mana anymore, letting it revert to its natural sharp state.
Adrenaline shot through his body. It was a risky plan just like Anna's but he wanted to one shot this monster too.
His target was the charging orcs head, to shoot all his ice mana into it's head, hopefully freezing it.
"Ryke don't be stupid," Brock said noticing his friend simply standing there.
Like a charging bull, the orc got closer and closer, its head lowered for a devastating impact, but Ryker didn't move away.
A split second before the horns would've gored him, Ryker placed his hand on its head, unleashing a full blast of ice magic.
The beast didn't have any time to register it. Its head popped like a balloon.
An explosion of gore. Warm blood splattered across Ryker's face, thick and coppery, but it began to crystallize into a grotesque, frosty sculpture almost instantly.
Ryker didn't account for the body falling on him and was crushed beneath the dead weight.
"An unorthodox technique, but undeniably effective," Elara's four brown eyes blinked, each with a look of morbid curiosity as she peeled the frozen headless carcass off him.
He didn't have the strenght to get up. It turns out that using all your mana make you exhausted. Who knew.
"You both pass but I'm assuming you know you would've died in actual dungeon if you passed out after killing the monster."
Her words were a jab, but her tone held no malice.
"Luckily F-rank is more about potential than perfection."
She handed each of them a small metal insignia. An F was carved into it.
"Congratulations," she announced, "Welcome to the guild."