Seven days passed since the last gathering with Master Hector.
The students stood before him, the early morning glaze looming upon the field they stood. All sixty-three of the students stood with firm expressions. They had all practiced for today. Undoubtedly, this was the place where the proficiency test would be carried out.
The students weren't all too unfamiliar with the place they laid before, as it was the same training grounds that they had practiced in. Differently from last time, they stood in a different section of it. The ground here was made out of stone, and the space was smaller than the area open to students. This was the area where class lessons would be held. On the ground, there were five red spots horizontally, respectively having three vertical spots each, and neatly arranged black mannequins, with some men unrelated to the class standing by the side.
"Now, let me explain the contents of this test. Each student will get five chances to cast a Wind Blade to try to hit the target within a minute window. Five people will come at once, standing on those red spots." Master Hector pointed at the ground where five spots created from red chalk lay. "Once all participants have stepped into the assigned spots, I will give the signal to commence. Every vertical spot indicates an increment of five meters, holding at ten, fifteen, and twenty. You may choose whatever distance you are most comfortable with. The participants will be volunteers; whoever wants to participate may simply walk into the spot of their choosing."
Students such as Balter had bitter expressions. Due to the test permitting up to five castings within a minute window, those who didn't have sufficient mana were at a disadvantage. Wind Blade drained 7% of their mana, so those with a low-rank fissure—those below 35% mana capacity—would get fewer chances. This mostly comprised the majority of silver fissures and all of the bronze fissures. As for Balter, he merely held a bronze fissure. At most, he would be able to strike twice.
"Isn't this too unfair?" Balter wanted to curse. He, too, had practiced heavily for the chance to obtain some mana stones, but this dream quickly shattered into a million pieces.
This was how the magical world was: forsake the weak and cherish the strong. It had now hit him that unfair advantages would only be served.
In order to be strong, the weak united. Balter had made acquaintances with people in similar circumstances as him. He turned to look at them, only to see defeat on their faces.
On the other hand, Gent was brimming with confidence. He had spent his days diligently practicing in order to crush Jinto. Based on the information, Jinto was seen struggling immensely to even cleanly cut the mannequin. He was nothing but certain he would win this bet.
"Hehe, I want to see what kind of face he will make when he loses face in front of the whole class." He cast his gaze to where Jinto was. There, his expression said it all—he had a troubled look on his face. This did nothing but assure Gent of his upcoming victory. "If I don't step in, he won't be able to either. He is bound by the bet we made. I should maybe step in last and make him savor the anxiety."
Master Hector placed his hand on his back. "Now, with all that said and done, who will be the first participants?"
From the crowd, a person stepped up. He was an unassuming person, the owner of a bronze fissure—Saro. As he rose, more students got up and gathered into the spots.
"I know winning the mana stones is impossible, so I'll just get it over with." Saro sighed.
"You may commence," Master Hector instructed.
At once, sharpened wind sounds rang out.
Swoosh swoosh swoosh swoosh swoosh.
Two students stood ten meters away from the dummies, while the rest chose to stand at fifteen.
One missed, and the other Wind Blade shot dissipated before it could reach the target. One did not even go in a straight path, diverting greatly from its intended direction. Those were the Wind Blades that chose to cast at fifteen meters. As for the rest who chose to cast at ten meters, both missed their target before dissipating.
Master Hector shook his head internally. None of the spells hit, and even one was coming his way. He forced one of the Wind Blades approaching the students to forcefully dissipate.
The student, Elrick, apologized with a flustered expression. He wanted to die internally.
"I must make my last Wind Blade count. I must at least damage the dummy," Saro thought. His Wind Blade missed, not even reaching the dummy. But seeing as the spell continued on before unraveling, he chose to cast at twenty meters. "Go big or go home," Saro thought.
The other students began their second round of casting. Elrick stood on his spot at fifteen meters. Unlike the other students whose spells unraveled before reaching the target, he moved to ten meters. The rest stood at their original spots.
Swoosh swoosh swoosh swoosh.
This time, all Wind Blades entered their intended path. Elrick jumped with joy. He thought he redeemed himself with such an action. Unfortunately, his Wind Blade only managed to hit the hand of a mannequin, but it was many times better compared to what he did earlier.
Two of the Wind Blades hit the target in its thigh and feet, while the other one disappeared, collapsing onto the ground.
Saro immersed himself in the casting. He was trying to perfect it. With a flick, a Wind Blade shot out from his right hand.
The other youths could only look at him, for they had already wasted all their mana trying to cast the spell. They were at their limit.
Unlike the previous round of Wind Blades, this one was more agile and more resistant. Saro watched in anticipation: "Maybe I can hit it? Doing bad in the test compared to the others? My Wind Blade obviously looks better. I must at least make a dent to prove myself!" He had long practiced the spell. He wanted to see the fruits of his labor. Seeing as his spell missed but had the ability to go much further, he wanted to repair his ego.
The Wind Blade approached the target. It had reached the ten-meter threshold where most Wind Blades fell to the ground.
Saro's eyes shined: "Yes, this is it."
Master Hector thought: "Oh? This bronze fissure youth isn't so bad."
Fifteen meters. It was getting closer without slowing down.
Seventeen… then plup.
With a soft sound, the spell hit the floor.
Saro's shining eyes cracked: "Uhh."
"Never mind," Master Hector said inwardly before clearing his throat. "Now, if you guys can't continue, let the next round of participants step forward."
Saro walked back sluggishly, constantly shifting his gaze from the spot where his spell vanished onto his path forward.
Vitus approached the spot, casting attention on himself. Vitus relaxed his mind, solely focusing on the target. He wanted the mana stones without a doubt, so to achieve the highest chance of winning, he directed himself onto the twenty-meter spot.
When the rest of the participants arrived at their spots, Master Hector signaled for them to start.
Vitus concentrated.
Swoosh.
His fast Wind Blade met the others. Dylan was slightly surprised. He had chosen to cast at fifteen meters, but his Wind Blade hit the mannequin at the same time as Vitus' even though he stood at twenty.
Dylan would have been satisfied, for he hit the mannequin's upper torso, leaving behind a considerably large mark on it, but Vitus' had left an even bigger one.
"He has an amethyst fissure, after all," Dylan concluded.
Master Hector nodded in satisfaction: "Not bad. He is ninety percent of the way there. After all, his talent is outstanding." Before the test, Master Hector had more or less guessed the rankings of the students, Vitus being a top candidate to receive the prize.
The other students looked in amazement, especially those who were participating. Some hit the mannequin, while some missed. For those who successfully cast onto their target, they left a mark that wasn't as noticeable as Vitus'.
Swoosh swoosh swoosh swoosh swoosh.
All five students cast. The sharp sound of wind rang out. This time, Vitus hit the upper torso again, making the mannequin split into two.
"No way, I missed it?" Dylan looked defeated. He had missed, and seeing Vitu's progress made him even more bitter.
One of the men standing by the side quickly moved, replacing the mannequin with a new one.
Three of the participants couldn't continue. Their mana was drained.
Only Dylan and Vitus remained.
Swoosh Swoosh
Vitus' spell landed on the mannequin's head, and cracks formed along it where the Wind Blade struck. Dylan hit the mannequin's left thigh.
Swoosh Swoosh
Dylan struck the target's neck while Vitus missed.
Swoosh Swoosh
For their final casting, Dylan bravely went up to twenty meters. Unfortunately, his spell could only target the floor, reaching the mannequin's feet and damaging it slightly. As for Vitus, he managed to hit the target's right shoulder.
"With this, it isn't impossible to win!" Vitus was very optimistic about his result, only missing one Wind Blade. From the rest of his classmates, who could achieve such a result? In his mind, only Olsen remained. But could he aim as consistently as him?
Vitus held his heart in optimism.
Dylan's expression darkened: "Why did I volunteer when he went?" In comparison, even though Dylan's results were good, Vitus' were outstanding.
"May the next participants enter."
"Should I go?" Paul's lips curved.
"Hehe, go show them." Jinto laughed as he encouraged.
Gent, noticing something out of the norm, watched as Paul went onto the stage.
"What's he laughing for?" Gent was intrigued.
Paul reached his spot. He placed himself at fifteen meters. As he stretched his shoulders, ready to cast, the other five side characters placed themselves, leading Master Hector to start.
Swoosh Swoosh Swoosh Swoosh Swoosh
Paul's was close to hitting, but unfortunately, it missed.
"It seems there's nothing noteworthy." Gent thought as he relaxed. His brain told him that there was something funny based on Paul's and Jinto's reactions. But now he paid it no mind.
Swoosh Swoosh Swoosh Swoosh Swoosh
Again, his spell did not land on the target, missing yet again. But Paul's expression wasn't flustered or anything. He had a calm expression throughout, solely focusing on casting.
Gent yawned, bored.
Swoosh Swoosh Swoosh Swoosh Swoosh
"Hm?"
Everybody looked at Paul in disbelief. Even Master Hector had wide eyes.
"No way."
"He managed to..?"
Even Olsen looked aghast. He had not expected for somebody to…
Jinto and Melissa held no surprise on their faces; they had already expected the outcome.
Paul had managed to completely cut the mannequin's head in half!
"Huh?" Gent was flabbergasted. "Him? He did it? No way, how?" Gent's mind rumbled with thoughts. Was this why Jinto was laughing?
Paul nodded in satisfaction. "It seems that this is the correct way."
Aldering, who was participating, looked dumbfounded. She had only managed to hit the target's chest, leaving behind a visible dent. "Doesn't this guy and I have the same fissure? So how come he managed to completely split the target?"
Vitus was shocked: "Eh? All my effort… Wait, I trained in the same vicinity as him. How could he split the mannequin now?" Vitus was confused and bewildered.
Paul ignored all the shocked people, picking his nose with his left hand as he readied his right hand.
Swoosh
He cast first. All eyes were glued on him that the participants forgot to even cast!
One of the men by the side quickly brought out a new mannequin before he cast.
This time, his Wind Blade hit the mannequin's lower torso, going through completely. The place where the spell struck was to the farthest right part of the target, so he couldn't fully separate it into halves.
The other participants jolted awake and began their casting.
Swoosh Swoosh
Only three were left, Aldering and Paul included. The rest exhausted their mana.
Paul missed. The rest of the Wind Blades managed to strike successfully but were not noteworthy. The men moved and replaced the damaged mannequins with new ones.
Swoosh Swoosh
Only Aldering and Paul remained.
Paul completely sliced off the mannequin's two legs, prompting its upper half to fall onto the ground with a thud.
"What is the meaning of this? How did this brute manage to cleanly slice off the mannequin? If he could do it, what about Jinto?" Gent's mind was racing. If Paul could do it, wouldn't that mean Jinto could too? Now he knew why they were laughing; they were simply playing with him!
At this moment, he had to dispel all his doubts. He was planning to go in last to really make sure that Jinto suffered his demise slowly, but at this rate, he was the one who would be filled with anxiety—not knowing if Jinto truly had the capabilities to win the bet. Nobody liked uncertainty, and neither did Gent.
"Jinto! Let's settle on this round." Gent called out.
The youths turned their gazes to see Gent with slightly furrowed brows. They knew that this friendly wager was going to commence. Some students had already placed their bets and were looking forward to seeing the battle of these two.
Master Hector looked amused. A battle between juniors was entertaining to him, as long as it fell into the realms of non-fatal. It was good to keep competition within the clan to promote excellence.
"Brother Gent, don't be too impatient. How can our bet conclude so fast? Relax. Oh, brother Gent, being impatient does not do good for the heart." Jinto replied.
"What? What kind of frogshit is that? It seems you are too cowardly. Come to the stage if you have the guts. Otherwise, it will only end in your loss." Gent retorted.
"Cowardly? No, no. It's that from all my practicing, my arm really, really hurts, and it's not up to par." Jinto shook his head. He continued, "I'm afraid I'm not in perfect condition. Wouldn't that be too unfair? What do you guys think?"
"Jinto, I have to give it to you. Your words do make sense, as I saw you training harshly. Oh, you, it must've been hard." Melissa replied while nodding sympathetically.
Paul had arrived from casting. He added dramatically, "Gent is so heartless. Trying to compete with an injured person? How disgusting of you."
The students watching this tried to hold their laughter. Aldering was on the verge of bursting out laughing, while Balter couldn't believe what he was hearing. They were obviously mocking Gent!
Olsen's face tightened. He, alongside Gent, had formulated a plan. Its results were nothing but certain in his mind. But seeing Paul's performance, he sighed: "Truly, in this world, there's no perfect plan. As they say, man proposes, but heaven disposes." He could only sit and watch the show now.
"What kind of excuse is that? Are you trying…"
Before he could say anything else, Jinto interrupted him: "As a person with a big heart, I will discard my injuries and participate in this friendly duel between dearest you and I. I swear on my name, Jinto Fang Spring, that I'll volunteer in the last round. Every minute I have is a precious moment to recover."
Gent felt his mouth stuck, unable to say anything for a moment before trying to speak. Olsen put his hand on his shoulder and shook his head.
Gent could only suck his teeth in bitterness. He had been humiliated in front of everybody. This was a dent in his reputation. He disliked Jinto before, but now he loathed him to the core.
Master Hector enjoyed the spectacle before he resumed the task at hand, clearing his throat: "The next five, please come up."