"Quick, take a look, take a look."
Helena leaned in curiously.
Noah slowly unfolded the crumpled slip of paper she'd drawn.
"9...5...2...7...you drew 9527," Helena said.
"Mm, that should put me toward the back, I guess."
Noah stared at the simple four digits.
For some reason, a strange excitement welled up in her chest.
'Could it be that I'm nervous too?'
'Or... some other reason.'
Noah couldn't put this feeling into words, but if she had to describe it in a slightly more "forceful" way, it would be, 'I can't wait to kick 9527's butt hard.'
———
A few minutes later, a teacher outside announced,
"Students with combat number 1309, Helena, Kristina, Sheila, please enter the arena and prepare; your assessments are about to begin."
Helena's breath skipped a beat, but she quickly composed herself.
She jumped down from her chair, glanced back at Noah, "If I pass the exam, let's go on a date, Noah."
"How heroic, Helena, are you going to risk your life just to go on a date with me? I'm so moved I could cry."
"But why do I feel like you're trying not to laugh?"
The two friends exchanged a smile. Helena waved, "Okay, I'm off."
"Mm, good luck!"
Helena nodded and walked into the arena with the other two students.
Noah continued to wait outside.
Out of sheer boredom she opened her number slip again and muttered the digits,
"9527... 95...27... Hmph, watch me tear your armor to shreds."
The Grind King's unique way of hyping herself: say the tough talk to yourself first; it won't affect anyone else's mood.
———
About half an hour later, Helena and the other two finished their assessments and came out.
The three little dragons bore more or less signs of combat.
It looked like those teachers playing the black-gold war chariots were serious about it. They weren't going to let people pass casually.
Helena smoothed her slightly messy hair and looked up to see Noah jogging over.
"How'd it go, Helena? You didn't get hurt, right?"
Her first concern was still whether her friend was injured.
Scores mattered less than everyone being safe.
Helena shook her head with a smile, "Nope, I'm fine."
"That's good. Come rest for a bit."
"Okay."
The two friends returned to their previous spot. Noah handed her some water and food.
While Helena replenished her energy, she told Noah about what happened inside the arena.
Outside, the teacher continued calling the next combat numbers.
"Students with combat number 1428, Shirei, Angel, please enter the arena to prepare."
.
.
.
"Students with combat number 2317, Sam, Bach, Sandy, please enter the arena to prepare."
.
.
.
"Students with combat number 3328, Nancy, Erya, please enter the arena to prepare."
Time approached noon; almost all students had completed their assessments.
But the teachers still hadn't called Noah's or 9527's names.
Though she knew she was scheduled toward the back, Noah couldn't help feeling a bit anxious.
The Grind King was itching to fight, eager for a scrap.
Some classmates who had already finished came up to chat, telling her not to be nervous and passing on tips they'd learned.
Noah listened carefully to all of them.
"In summary, the teachers are serious, but they'll water it down to some extent, so as long as you perform normally, you'll be fine," Kristina said.
Noah nodded, "Okay, got it."
As they chatted, the kids heard the arena doors open.
The previous group of three had finished.
Noah remembered their drawn combat numbers started with an 8.
That meant—
"Combat number 9527, Noah K. Melkvei, please enter the arena to participate in the... final match of this assessment."
———
"Noah... old friend, it's finally time for the student you've been waiting for to take the field."
On the stands, Principal Oullette smiled as she watched the arena.
The small black figure stepped in from the doorway; she looked calm and walked with measured steps.
There was none of the nervous excitement other young dragons showed, nor any shrinking timidity.
That little one was as composed as if she were going to have breakfast.
Vice-Principal Wilson adjusted his monocle with great satisfaction, "The best kids often go last."
The old man never withheld his praise for Noah and the Melkve family.
This story teaches us: First impressions matter.
Some pairings, CPs and their kids, only need one look to peg them for life.
Principal Oullette smiled slightly and then said, "Speaking of 'the last one,' did you notice, old friend?"
"Notice what?"
"Because of Adam's incident, we had to restart the old 'black armor' sparring assessment this year. But next year, we certainly won't be so careless."
Principal Oullette watched Noah with a tone of relief and appreciation as she continued, "In other words, today is St. Heath Academy's final 'black armor' sparring assessment, and Noah is the last student in this assessment."
"Each of their encounters, each exchange, will add luster to this memorable finale."
"Old friend, this year's young dragons are all excellent, but none have given me a 'wow' moment."
"So I'm really hoping Noah will surprise me."
Listening closely to Principal Oullette, it was clear she had high expectations for Noah as well.
Vice-Principal Wilson narrowed his eyes and stared at Noah, who had already taken her place in the arena and was ready to begin,
"She will. She's never let anyone down."
———
Clack! Clack!
Metal boots struck the arena floor with crisp sounds.
The black armor walked in slowly and stopped about ten meters from Noah.
The arena lights shone on the breastplate, making it gleam.
Noah watched the opponent quietly and couldn't help but be a little curious, "Even if it's just prop armor... it's this finely made and pretty?"
It was hard not to notice.
Even Noah found it a bit unbelievable.
"Prepare—"
A nearby assessment teacher picked up a whistle and put it to his lips.
Noah shook her head to clear unrelated thoughts.
She bent slightly, crouched, and took her attacking stance.
The next second, the whistle blew.
The final match officially began.
The whistle's tail was swallowed by a sharp bird call; blue lightning flared as Noah lunged, sprinting with incredible speed.
"A silver dragon's unique fast assault, paired with a lightning thrust's high burst, it can catch the opponent off guard right at the start, not bad."
"Although mainstream tactics taught in the schoolbooks are to observe first, then engage, because of the nature of lightning magic, Noah's fast-attack approach is indeed viable."
"That opening stance looks familiar... hiss~.can't place where I saw it."
"..."
The scoring teachers outside scribbled notes in their scorebooks while discussing Noah's performance.
The other 'black armor' who had already exited were also watching the assessment.
"Hey, what's 9527 doing? Why's he standing there dazed!"
"Big Pot, move! You gotta move!"
"Slacking off so obviously will dock your pay, bro!"
———
Calls and shouts rose and fell outside.
But fortunately, Noah and 9527 weren't easily swayed by outside noise.
9527 still stood statue-still.
In a blink, Noah closed the short ten-meter gap and ambushed him.
Only when the lightning flashed across his breastplate did 9527 finally move.
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