Zar placed his blood-soaked tablet on the table with a calm, calculated air, though inside, his mind raced. The numbers displayed on the screen—his soul strength, cultivation, and other traits—lingered in his thoughts. He knew the results were unimpressive by the academy's standards, especially compared to the other students. But Zar also understood that numbers didn't tell the whole story. What they couldn't measure was his resolve, his cunning, and his ability to navigate challenges that others might shy away from. Those were his real strengths, even if they didn't fit neatly into a percentage or decimal point.
The old man seated in the middle of the podium leaned forward, his presence demanding respect. Slowly, he clapped his hands, and the torches along the walls ignited, casting a flickering light that seemed to chase away the oppressive darkness. The room brightened, but the atmosphere grew heavier as the students realized they were about to face another test.
"Now," the old man began, his voice deep and commanding, "we will have a general studies test to assess how your mind works under pressure. Complex questions on various subjects will challenge your reasoning, your knowledge, and your ability to think critically."
Desks appeared in front of each student with a wave of his hand, accompanied by a sheet of paper and a pencil. Zar sat down, his mind sharpening. This test was different. It wasn't about raw physical ability or inherent magical power—it was about intellect, strategy, and understanding. Qualities he knew he possessed in abundance.
"You all have different questions," the old man continued, his gaze sweeping over the room. "Begin now. You have thirty minutes."
Zar scanned the questions in front of him, each designed to probe a specific area of knowledge, forcing him to think critically and apply his understanding in practical ways. The first question that caught his attention was in the area of Combat Knowledge.
Combat Knowledge: You are leading a team of 10 warriors in a battle scenario where the enemy force has 20 troops. Each warrior has a 75% chance of successfully hitting an enemy, and the enemy has a 50% chance of evading attacks. Calculate the expected number of successful hits by your team and the probable number of enemies hit if each attack is independent. How would you adjust your strategy based on these probabilities?
Zar's mind immediately began calculating. His team had 10 warriors, each with a 75% chance to land a hit. However, the enemy's 50% evasion rate complicated things. For each warrior, the probability of a successful hit, after accounting for the enemy's evasion, would be the product of their hit probability and the enemy's evasion failure.
He scribbled down the calculation: 0.75 (chance of hitting) × 0.50 (chance of evasion failing) = 0.375
So, each warrior had a 37.5% chance of landing a successful hit. With 10 warriors attacking independently, the expected number of successful hits was straightforward: 10 warriors × 0.375 = 3.75 hits
Zar paused, considering the implications. On average, they could expect to land nearly 4 hits, but with the enemy's numerical superiority, those hits wouldn't be enough to significantly turn the tide of battle.
His mind turned to strategy. With only a 37.5% chance per attack, brute force wasn't the solution. He needed to maximize each warrior's impact. The answer lay in targeted strikes—directing his team to focus their attacks on key enemy targets, perhaps the more vulnerable or strategically important ones. Reducing the enemy's numbers early could break their formation, lower morale, and disrupt their coordination, leading to a higher chance of victory despite the odds.
But Zar also knew that in a real battle, probabilities weren't the only factor. Terrain, morale, fatigue—these would all play roles. He considered incorporating a deception tactic, something to throw off the enemy's expectation and lower their evasion rate, thus increasing his team's chances. Perhaps a feint, drawing the enemy into a vulnerable position before launching a concentrated attack. This would lower the enemy's ability to evade, giving his warriors a better chance to hit.
Zar's pencil moved quickly as he outlined these ideas, his focus intense. In his mind, he could see the battlefield, the movements of his troops, the enemy's reactions. He wasn't just answering a question—he was visualizing a strategy, one that might one day save his life. After finishing the answer, he moved on to the next question, pushing thoughts of the test's stakes out of his mind.
The next question on the page demanded his attention. This one dealt with History:
History: Analyze a historical trend where every 5-year period has seen an increase in conflict intensity by a factor of 1.2 compared to the previous period. If the initial period had an intensity score of 10, what will be the intensity score after 20 years? How would this trend affect the predictions for future conflicts, and what factors could potentially alter this historical pattern?
Zar's brow furrowed slightly. This question was about more than just math; it required him to understand the underlying patterns of history, to predict where they would lead.
He quickly calculated the intensity score after 20 years, knowing each period's intensity was compounded over time.
First period: 10 Second period: 10 × 1.2 = 12 Third period: 12 × 1.2 = 14.4 Fourth period: 14.4 × 1.2 = 17.28 Fifth period: 17.28 × 1.2 = 20.736
After 20 years, the intensity would be around 20.736. Zar noted this down but then moved to the more complex part of the question—how this trend might affect future predictions.
If conflict intensity continued to increase, the world would be on the brink of constant warfare, where every clash became more devastating than the last. Zar considered the factors that could alter this pattern. External influences, like a powerful leader emerging to enforce peace, or internal factors, such as widespread public desire for stability, could dampen the intensity. Alternatively, technological advancements might either escalate conflicts or deter them by making warfare too costly.
Zar jotted down these thoughts, reflecting on how history's trajectory often depended not just on cold, hard numbers, but on the unpredictable actions of individuals and societies. He couldn't shake the feeling that his own decisions, though small now, might one day ripple through history, altering its course in unforeseen ways.
Satisfied with his answers so far, Zar continued on to the next challenge, knowing the test wasn't over yet. He still had more to prove.
Zar turned his attention to the next set of questions, the ones he had left unanswered. The complexity of these questions demanded specific knowledge he didn't possess, but he knew his strategy needed to be well-rounded, even if it meant acknowledging his current limitations.
Pill Alchemy: A pill's effectiveness is determined by the concentration of its primary ingredient and the quality of its secondary ingredients. If the primary ingredient concentration is 0.7 and the quality of secondary ingredients is 0.8, and the effectiveness is directly proportional to the product of these two values, calculate the pill's effectiveness. How would increasing the primary ingredient concentration to 0.9 affect the pill's effectiveness?
Zar quickly calculated: Current effectiveness: 0.7 × 0.8 = 0.56 New effectiveness with increased concentration: 0.9 × 0.8 = 0.72
He noted that the effectiveness improved significantly with the increase in the primary ingredient's concentration. This was a straightforward problem he could solve, but he knew the implications went beyond simple calculations. It was about understanding how minute adjustments could lead to significant outcomes. Still, he felt he lacked deeper insight into practical applications, which could have added more to his answer.
Herbology: Herbology required knowledge of common, rare, and legendary herbs. The question asked for Zar to recite five common herbs, at least three rare herbs, and one legendary herb.
Zar had not anticipated such a broad and specific requirement. He struggled with this part due to a lack of detailed herbological knowledge, which was not part of his primary studies. The challenge lay not only in identifying the herbs but also in understanding their properties and uses.
Monster Knowledge: The question about eliminating a specific monster was equally challenging. It asked for the only way to effectively eliminate a certain type of monster, which was highly complex and required extensive knowledge about different monsters and their unique weaknesses.
Zar realized that without the specific lore and detailed information about this monster, he could not provide a comprehensive answer. His knowledge was more general, and the intricacies of monster-specific elimination techniques were beyond his current grasp.
As the thirty minutes ticked away, Zar finished writing his responses to the questions he could tackle. He glanced around the room, observing the intense focus of his fellow students. The pressure was palpable, with some students visibly struggling to keep up.
Zar's gaze landed on Lila, the girl he had met before. She was seated not far away, her face set in concentration. He wondered how she was handling the test, but there was no time to dwell on it. He had done his best with the questions he could answer, and now, it was a matter of waiting to see how the results would unfold.
He leaned back slightly, surveying the room. His calm demeanor belied the intensity of the situation, but he felt a strange sense of satisfaction. Despite the pressure, he had managed to showcase his strengths in strategy and critical thinking. The journey ahead was still uncertain, but he was ready to face whatever challenges came next.
With the test nearing its end, Zar took one last look at the questions, ensuring that he had covered everything within his abilities. The next steps would reveal more about his place in this academy and what future paths awaited him.