Amukelo furrowed his brows as he glanced toward the red-haired man Bral had pointed out. "The rising star?" he repeated, his voice filled with curiosity. "What do you mean?"
Bral smirked, enjoying the chance to explain. "His name is Padrin. He's young—about your age, maybe a little older—but he's skilled. Ridiculously skilled. He climbed to silver rank five in just about ten months since becoming an adventurer."
Amukelo blinked. "Is that… fast?"
Bral practically scoffed at the question, throwing up his hands. "That's super fast! Most adventurers would kill to reach that level after a solid year of questing. For him to do it in ten months? That's insane. And what's crazier is that he actually progressed in skill. It's not like with you that he had started very strong when he became an adventurer. Supposedly he was pretty weak when he started. Some peopel say that he was carried because he is in a big guild, but that'sust talk."
Amukelo crossed his arms, intrigued. "How do you know that?"
Bral tapped Amukelo's badge. "Adventurer badges measure contribution. You can't fake it. If he got to silver five, it means he actually did the work."
Bao, who had been listening quietly, suddenly spoke up. "Wait… Padrin?" Her tone was filled with surprise. "I've heard about him. People talk about him even in other towns. I just never thought I'd actually see him here."
Bral grinned. "Yeah, well, rumor has it that someone from his guild—one of the big ones—is watching over him. And they placed him here to train. He's been booming ever since." He gestured around the facility. "If someone like him is using this place, then that tells you everything you need to know about how good it is."
Amukelo took another glance at Padrin. The young man still had his eyes closed, standing still against the wall with an unnerving level of calmness. His stance was neither stiff nor forced—just relaxed, yet completely aware.
Suddenly, as if sensing that they were talking about him, Padrin's eyes flicked open, sharp and focused.
Amukelo didn't even think—his body just followed instinct. He immediately stopped talking. So did Bao. So did Idin. Even Bral, who's mouth almost never closed.
For a moment, none of them moved.
Padrin's gaze lingered on them, unreadable, before he exhaled lightly and closed his eyes again, returning to his stillness as if nothing had happened.
Amukelo let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "He… noticed that?"
Bral chuckled. "Of course he did. That's what makes him special."
Before Amukelo could process that, the doors opened, and Ewan walked in.
He wasn't alone. Two other figures entered behind him. One was a woman wielding two daggers. The other was a man with a longsword, standing with a relaxed confidence.
Ewan approached, nodding toward Bao and Amukelo. "Alright. These will be your opponents."
Ewan then turned to Amukelo directly. "For your match, we went with your adventurer rank as the easiest measurement of strength. But since you mentioned having combat experience beyond your rank, we picked someone with a slightly higher level than you." He gestured to the longsword user. "He's bronze rank six. Should be a good test."
Amukelo nodded in understanding. "That's fine with me."
The man with the longsword stepped forward, extending a hand. "My name's Ive."
Amukelo clasped his hand in a firm shake. "Amukelo. Good luck."
Ive smirked. "Same to you."
Turning back to Ewan, Amukelo asked, "So… we can begin now, right? Who's going first—me or Bao?"
Ewan shook his head. "Not yet. We still have to wait for the master."
Amukelo tilted his head. "The master?"
Ewan simply gave a small smirk. "You'll see."
With that, the room fell into an anticipatory silence, the tension rising as they waited for whoever this 'master' was to arrive.
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly the moment the doors swung open. A tall, broad-shouldered man strode in, his long beard streaked with gray, matching the weathered wisdom in his piercing eyes. His long hair, tied back loosely, framed a scarred face that spoke of decades of battle.
There was no grand entrance, no announcement needed. Everyone knew who he was. The moment he entered, the idle chatter in the training hall died down. Even those who had been casually observing the upcoming spar straightened their postures, their casual expressions shifting into something more… respectful. Even Padrin, who had remained still and composed the entire time, opened his eyes for a moment, his gaze lingering on the older man before he returned to his meditative stance.
The man studied them both, his gaze sweeping over Amukelo and Bao with a quiet intensity. He didn't just look at them—he measured them, as if already assessing their capabilities before a single word was spoken.
Then, with a warm smile, he extended his hand. "So these are our new members." His voice was deep, carrying a natural authority that needed no raising. He looked at Amukelo and Bao, nodding in approval. "Very well. I can see they are not weak."
Amukelo was taken aback by how quickly he judged that, but before he could ask, the master extended his hand again, this time for a handshake.
"Nice to meet you, Amukelo. Bao."
They shook his hand in turn. His grip was firm, solid, unshakable—like grasping onto a boulder.
From the side, Ewan muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "How does he always remember names so easily?"
Ignoring the commentary, he clasped his hands behind his back and spoke, his tone calm but direct. "I am Dainor. I am the master of this facility. Today, based on your matches, I will evaluate your current strength and determine the best way for you to progress forward."
Both Amukelo and Bao nodded, standing straighter, but there was no denying the subtle tension in their shoulders.
Dainor took a step to the side and gestured toward Bao. "You will go first."
Bao inhaled deeply, nodding once as she stepped forward into the middle of the sparring circle.
"Your opponent," Dainor continued, turning his gaze toward the other side, "will be Lua."
"Lua has been training with us for a while now," Dainor explained. "She is slightly higher rank than you, so do not be discouraged if you lose. The purpose of this match is not to win or lose—it is for me to see where your close combat abilities stand."
Bao met Lua's gaze and nodded respectfully. "Understood."
Lua returned the nod, offering a small smirk. "Should be interesting."
Dainor stepped to the side, making sure both of them had full space to move. Then, he began explaining the rules.
"The spar will be strike-based. Each round will not end until one of you lands a clean hit on the other."
Both Bao and Lua nodded.
Dainor continued, "Because Lua is more experienced and her weapons—daggers—deal less damage in a real fight compared to a short sword, she will have to land two strikes to win a round. However, you—" he nodded toward Bao, "only need to land one strike to win a round."
"You will fight until one of you reaches three winning rounds. Once that number is reached, the spar will be over."
Bao exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders back. She clenched her fingers around the wooden short sword and nodded. "Got it."
Dainor turned toward Lua. "Understood?"
Lua gave a confident grin. "Yeah. Ready when she is."
Dainor took a moment to study both of them, then asked one final question before starting. "Any concerns? Any clarifications needed?"
Both of them shook their heads.
Bao narrowed her eyes slightly. "Don't give me a head start."
Lua chuckled, spinning one of her daggers between her fingers before gripping it tight. "I didn't intend to."
Dainor's gaze lingered between them for a brief second before he finally gave the signal.
"Take your positions."
Both of them stepped into place, weapons at the ready.