Training continued for the next two days, and Wednesday was declared a free day from school activities. Drake, however, didn't yield to the temptation of rest, instead pressing forward with relentless determination to refine his strength. On the fourth day, he and his team arrived at the Physical and Mental Evaluation Building-a towering structure veiled in an aura of mystique-where students honed their skills through simulated battles.
It loomed like a sentinel, its glowing walls bathed in an ethereal light of crystalline formations that shimmered as if starlight had been captured. Suddenly, a figure materialized inside: a woman with cascading long white hair like a river of moonlight, her piercing blue eyes as sharp and cold as a winter frost. The fitted black and blue gown encased a commanding yet poised presence.
"I'm this building's third attendant. How can I assist you?" she asked in a soft voice, but with an authoritative resonance.
"We are here to train as a team," Drake replied, a seriousness to his tone. Mark nodded beside him, echoing his commitment.
A faint smile arced the attendant's lips. "The building contains seven rooms: four for individual training and three for team sessions. Unfortunately, all team rooms are occupied, though one session is nearing its end. You can wait if you'd like." Her eyes were level; her hands folded gracefully before her chest.
"No problem, we'll wait," Drake replied.
"Great. Follow me to the waiting area." Her voice was as smooth as water running over round rocks as she led them. "There's an instructor in every room who can guarantee your safety. Whenever the session gets too much to handle, they will see to it." She stopped and turned to them, reassuring them with her glance. "Please, sit down.
Drakes team filed into the waiting room. "Thanks for helping us out," they all chimed, their voices in a perfect harmony of appreciation as she left.
The minutes clipped along, like bowstrings pulled tight, until the training room doors swung open and out swaggered three students: Ronan, Griffin, and Veronica. Their steps held an air of arrogance as their gaze met that of Drakes team, silent wills clashing against one another.
Ronan's lips curled into a sneer as he spat, "You never cease to amaze me, just coming here with your pitiful strength. You really don't know your place.
He turned his icy gaze to Freya. His words cut like shards of glass: "Even your third partner is no less weak than you." His glance shifted to Mark, his tone mockingly pitying. "I almost feel sorry for you, stuck on such a worthless team.
Mark's fury ignited like dry kindling to a flame. He leaped to his feet, grabbing Ronan's shirt, his eyes blazing with restrained wrath. Griffin moved to intervene, but Ronan waved him off, his smirk widening. "Careful, or you'll regret it," Ronan taunted, his words coiling like a serpent poised to strike.
The tension was a tightly turgid string, at the point of snapping, when the attendant came back and managed to slice through the hostility with her presence. "Please come in; it's your turn."
Drake placed a firm, reassuring hand on Mark's shoulder. "Let go," he said, his voice as steady as a mountain. Mark let go of Ronan reluctantly, his glare like glowing embers.
Drake crowded Ronan's space, his voice falling to a growl. "If you have an issue, come at me directly. Cease acting like a sheep without a shepherd." His words cut through Ronan's pride like a blade. Without waiting for a response, Drake turned and walked away, his calm confidence a jarring contrast to Ronan's simmering rage. Freya followed, bowing slightly in passing, her gesture both polite and pointed.
Inside, they found themselves in a vast arena, its walls made of tempered glass that glinted under the soft, scintillating glow of crystal lights. To their left, a man stood beside a cylindrical stand, his posture commanding yet relaxed.
"Are you ready?" he asked, his tone low but intense.
They nodded in unison, startled. The man hit a button on his stand, and a towering golem of blue crystal materialized before them, its form screaming raw power.
Scarcely, Mark was off like a jackrabbit before the word "start" could leave his lips.
Torrential Aura: Void Fist Technique, Wave Surge (2 circles)!" he roared. His aura flowed like molten energy through his veins, pumping into explosive strength within his muscles. He struck the golem's abdomen with the force of a tidal wave that sent it crashing backward.
Even the calm face of the inspector shook, his eyebrows rising in surprise. Clicking the tier up three levels, he released another golem, and his result was the same—Mark's ferocity still was unmatchable.
"Impressive," the inspector said softly, his tone measured with interest. He smacked the highest tier, calling out two golems whose auras surged stronger.
This time, the golems reacted with quick precision, shooting water bullets with a deadly intent through the air. Mark shielded himself with crossed arms as his aura formed a shimmering barrier. Beside him, Drake created a shield of water. "Aqua Shield Technique 1 circle," he called, shielding Freya and himself from the assault.
The massive fist of one golem made contact with Mark's aura shield, pounding him backward with pure force. Before he could steady himself, the second golem swooped down from above, its fist clenched and ready to strike.
"Draconic Mana: Aqua Dragon Roar (3 circles)!" The voice of Drake rumbled as the youth released a torrent of pressurized water that impeded the advance of the golem and gave Mark time to retreat.
"We should stop here for today," Mark suggested, his voice a low rumble.
Drake shook his head. "Not yet. This is the kind of challenge we need to harden ourselves. The inspector will intervene if it becomes too dangerous."
Their debate was cut short as one of the golems charged. Drake raised his hand. "Draconic Mana: Aqua Shield!" The barrier materialized but shattered instantly, the force flinging them backward.
Drake's eyes narrowed as his mind ran a mile a minute. "There's a way to face them," he said to Mark, in a voice tinted with urgency and resolve. "But it is a gamble. Are you in?"
Mark scrunched up his face, then a spark of determination lit his features. "I'm in," he said, the wide grin spreading across his features like the dawn breaking through storm clouds.