The data from the gear had been recorded, and now, the moment everyone was waiting for arrived.
Scarlet walked to the front of the group with clipboard in hand. Her eyes scanned the contestants - ragged breaths, sweat dripping from their brows, others standing frozen in tense anticipation.
With only two tests remaining, these numbers could make or break their chances of joining the Guild.
A hushed tension blanketed the area. "Alright," Scarlet said, projecting her voice just enough.
"Here are the results from the weighted stamina test."
Everyone leaned in.
"Rael Stren - 17 out of 20."
A wave of murmurs rippled across the crowd.
"He's consistent..."
"Didn't expect that from him..."
Someone from the back even muttered, "He might be in the top 10 at this rate."
Rael exhaled in relief, giving a small nod to himself, but stayed composed.
"Lykon Vren - 17"
Soft chuckles and whispers rippled through the room.
"I can't believe he scored that high," someone muttered, barely hiding a snicker.
Vren's fists clenched, jaw tightening into a sharp grin.
"Tch... if I ace the last two tests, I'll surpass him," he muttered under his breath.
"Jonas Tryek - 18."
That one drew a round of surprised murmurs.
"Whoa..."
"He's flying under the radar."
"That guy's gonna be a problem in the sparring round, watch."
Jonas just looked down, lips pressed into a firm line. He wasn't satisfied - he was hungry.
One after another, more names and numbers were called. The air grew heavier as the final score approached. Everyone knew whose score hadn't been announced yet.
A long silence followed. Scarlet's grip subtly tightened on the clipboard. She didn't realize her own breath had hitched until she exhaled through her nose.
"20 out of 20."
A gasp. Then a surge of noise burst from the crowd like a dam breaking.
"No way..."
"Again?!"
"This guy hasn't missed once!"
"Who is he...?"
"He's a monster... a white haired monster," someone whispered with a mix of awe and fear.
Boros' eye twitched. His brow furrowed. "Tch... stop calling me that shit, you damn bastards," he muttered under his breath. His voice was low but laced with venom.
Scarlet raised her hand to settle the noise before reading the final name.
"John Hale - 19 out of 20."
The crowd exploded. "WHAT?!"
"He got carried half the track!" "Are they seriously counting that?!"
Scarlet didn't flinch. "He crossed the finish line within the time limit. The gear recorded his exertion. That's the score. No amount of yelling will change it."
John looked completely stunned. "I... I got a 19?" His wide eyes slowly turned to the person who had pulled him through it. "It's because of the man who helped me... I'm really grateful to him."
He smiled sincerely in Boros' direction. Boros, who was already looking away, paused as he felt the weight of that gaze. He turned slightly, eyes narrowing when he caught the boy's expression.
"The hell...?" he mouthed.
"Stop. Smiling. At. Me."
John just kept smiling. "Tch annoying brat," Boros muttered, dragging a hand through his hair like he wanted to rip the smile out of the air.
Scarlet clapped once, calling the attention back to her. "With that, this test is concluded."
The boys looked at each other - some excited, others clearly feeling the pressure now that only two challenges remained.
Scarlet's eyes swept over the group. Her voice sharpened with command. "It's time to move on to the next, all male applicants - follow me." She turned with authority, her coat swaying slightly as she led the boys away from the field, toward the sparring ring tucked behind the north courtyard.
They were heading for the next test.
Meanwhile, somewhere else in the compound attention quietly shifted back to the central stage. The separate instructor stepped forward, eyes landing on the group of female applicants who had finished their run earlier.
It was their turn now.
The girls stood in the clearing of the eastern training yard - a wide, circular arena surrounded by smooth stone tiles and faint glyph etchings buried in the dirt. The sun sat high, casting sharp light over the ring.
A quiet tension built in the air. Then came the slow, deliberate sound of boots on stone.
Rovan Drayke emerged from the shaded corridor beside the platform.
His coat fluttered lightly in the wind, black with deep crimson trims. And red shoulder guards gleaming under the sun - the unmistakable mark of a Guild Captain. The moment the girls spotted them, postures straightened, expressions sobered.
His sharp gaze swept across the group, and even without a word, his presence screamed one thing:
Authority.
When he spoke, his voice was low and commanding - the kind that made even the proudest heads lower. "You've been running, jumping and enduring. But now it's time to do something most of you avoid until it's too late - weaponize it."
Some of the girls blinked in confusion. Others straightened their backs, recognizing the weight in his words.
"This is a sparring evaluation. Each of you will face off in a one-on-one duel. You'll be graded on control, tactical sense, aggression, defense and ability to adapt. Not just who wins. I'm here to watch brawls - I'm here to watch potential soldiers."
A breeze swept across the yard.
"And if you go too easy... you fail."
A murmur passed through the group. He didn't raise his voice. "The ring is reinforced. You'll be allowed to use Nexus if you're attuned - if not, fists and steel will suffice. Weapons have been provided if you didn't bring yours. No killing. No maiming. But pain? Pain is expected."
He snapped his fingers, and two assistants stepped forward to hand out wooden identification tags. "When I call your names, step into the ring."
The girls were quiet, holding their breath. Rovan read from the slate in his hand.
"Lira Quilen. Rayka Thorne. You're up first."
The two stepped forward. Lira was calm and precise, her movements smooth and composed as she entered the ring.
Her jet-black braid swung behind her, and her light-bladed Nexa dagger was already humming faintly in her hand.
Rayka, on the other hand, cracked her neck loudly. Her expression was sharp and defiant, her short red hair slicked back and her twin knuckles-blades locked on her fists. The air around her pulsed with raw energy.
They stared each other down from across the ring.
Rovan raised a hand. "Begin."