It all started with a sigh.
Ellen folded her arms and leaned slightly back as the scene before her unfolded into chaos. Students were already clashing left and right, a mixture of panic and excitement fuelling their movements.
Magic spells flew, punches were thrown, and alliances were made, but broken in mere seconds.
She sighed again, this time a bit louder.
"This is why I didn't want him as the supervisor," she muttered, eyes narrowing as they landed on the man standing near the edge of the dome.
Kraft Ludger. The very picture of composed menace.
His arms were crossed, his expression flat and unreadable as he watched the battlefield like a hawk dissecting prey. Nothing escaped him. Not posture, not stance, not even a twitch of mana.
Too competent.
That was the problem.
Ellen knew him well. Well enough, at least. In the game, if Ludger was assigned as your exam supervisor, the difficulty of passing rose significantly.
He didn't just assess strength; he evaluated your potential, adaptability, and even the choices you made during combat.
And worst of all?
He was picky.
Not just anyone could make it into Class A under his eye.
There were multiple scenarios in the game where even the protagonist failed to get into Class A just because Ludger didn't find their approach refined enough.
And the further you were from Class A, the further you were from the main storyline. From key events. From influence of the story.
Which is why Ellen's gaze shifted to five individuals in the crowd.
Excluding Seraphina Corven. And the brown-haired girl she saw earlier. They are the original protagonists of this world. I need them to make it into Class A.
No exceptions.
If my calculations were correct—Even if one of them didn't make it, the whole story could spiral out of control. Important events would get skipped, character arcs lost, and more.
And then there was her own issue.
Ellen's brows furrowed slightly.
She originally had a mage's body. That's what the Ellen's body was built for. And yet, she used aura to fight. A deviation. Something Ludger would definitely notice.
"I should've learned some magic," she mumbled.
But it was too late now. She had to make it work somehow. Appear balanced. Competent. Enough to justify a Class A evaluation without raising questions.
WUUNG!
The sudden whistle of air snapped Ellen out of her daze. She leaned back instinctively, just narrowly avoiding the sharp tip of a spear that sliced through the space where her head had been a second ago.
Her boots skidded against the polished floor as she pushed herself backward, putting a safe distance between her and her attacker.
"Whoa, didn't expect you to dodge that," a voice said with a laugh.
Ellen's eyes locked onto the figure in front of her.
A boy stood confidently, spinning his gleaming spear with practiced flair. Blonde hair framed his face like a golden halo, and sharp green eyes sparkled with energy. Just like a predator who found a new toy.
"Mind a duel?" he asked, flashing a grin that practically screamed confidence.
Ellen narrowed her eyes. "Caelan Valemont," she said flatly.
He chuckled. "Seems like I'm quite famous, huh?" Of course he is, he is one of the original protagonist afterall.
She sighed. "Aren't you supposed to ask before you try to skewer someone?"
Caelan shrugged. "I had a feeling you'd dodge. That's why I picked you."
"Right," Ellen said dryly. "Except you just said you didn't expect me to dodge."
Caelan blinked, then laughed. "Fair point. Still, doesn't matter. I needed a challenge."
He motioned casually toward the side of the hall where four students were already being tended by the healing staff.
"They didn't last long. I want to see what you've got."
Ellen tilted her head and studied him for a moment. This guy clearly lived for the thrill of battle. Not a meathead, but dangerously close.
"You sure you want this?" she asked, smirking.
"What, scared?" he teased, his grin stretching wider. "You can just run away, I won't judge."
Ellen chuckled, then ran a hand through her hair, brushing it back with theatrical flair.
"Scared? Please. If anything, this situation is a blessing. I needed someone to help me stand out, and you're practically volunteering. So thanks in advance for the spotlight."
Caelan raised a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. "Cocky, huh? This is gonna be fun."
He lowered himself into a stance, spear pointed forward, his aura starting to ripple across the floor.
"Now this is what I've been waiting for." He said with a maniac grin.
Ellen exhaled slowly, sliding into her own stance.
"Then wait no longer. Let's dance." She said.
The clash between Ellen and Caelan was like a spark to dry kindling—instant chaos turned focused attention.
The charged atmosphere thickened as students instinctively stepped back, forming a loose ring around the two. Even the medics paused their work, gazes drawn to the intense duel about to unfold.
The two combatants stared each other down, neither blinking, both already mapping the other's next three moves in their heads.
And then they moved.
Their feet struck the ground at the same time, propelling them forward like bullets. Mana flared for only a second before it was absorbed into movement.
Caelan led the exchange with a wide, spinning upward swing of his spear—a flashy move that left an opening.
Ellen didn't hesitate.
She slipped through the gap like water and launched a heavy hook straight for his exposed ribs.
But Caelan's grin widened. At the last second, he let go of his spear.
The weapon didn't fall. It floated mid-air as Caelan twisted his torso, catching Ellen's wrist mid-punch and redirecting the force to the side with a skilled pivot.
Then, with a fluid motion, he grabbed the floating spear mid-spin and thrust it forward.
Ellen tilt her head sideways.
Not rolled. Not sidestepped. Just a simple motion of her head.
Her movement was sharp, reflexive. Almost inhuman. Her red eyes locked onto the shaft of the spear as it passed inches above her head.
She didn't give him time to recover.
Before his footing settled, Ellen surged forward, launching a kick at his legs.
Calen leapt upward. His body twisted midair as he used the momentum to flip, landing gracefully several meters away with his spear spinning lazily in his hand.
"You're quick," he said, barely out of breath.
Ellen looked at the sky, brushing her bangs aside with a slow smirk. "You're not bad either. But you should worry more about yourself. I've only started warming up."
He laughed, eyes gleaming. "I was thinking the same thing."
They clashed again.
This time, Caelan used his spear like an extension of his body. It danced around him, shifting seamlessly between offense and defense.
Sometimes jabbing, sometimes swirling, sometimes blocking Ellen's viciously fast punches and sweeping kicks with precise, calculated deflections.
But Ellen was relentless.
Her movements weren't elegant, but they were surgical. Efficient. Brutal. Every time her feet touched the ground, she launched into another chain of attacks, moving so quickly it was hard to tell where one strike ended and the next began.
A hook. A feint. A spinning elbow. A low jab.
She had no opening. No telegraphing.
Just raw instincts honed to a razor's edge.
Caelan blocked a high strike with the shaft of his spear and countered with a sweeping low cut aimed at her legs.
But she jumped over it.
Mid-air, she twisted and threw a kick downward toward his shoulder.
He raised his spear horizontally to block, gritting his teeth as the force shot down his arms.
They made some distances, catching their breaths.
The air trembled with anticipation. Caelan's spear spun once in his hand, a blur of steel and precision, while Ellen remained crouched low, muscles coiled like a spring.
Then, they moved.
Valemont's spear style are elegance and destruction. Each swing flowed into the next, seamless as a river, with deceptive feints masking lethal thrusts. And Caelan brought it to the next level.
Ellen matched his rhythm blow for blow, her movements sharp and immediate. She read his every strike as if she'd choreographed the battle herself. It was an inhuman defense.
But that perfection came at a cost.
As Caelan jump to launch a downward thrust, Ellen slid under it, and prepared to launch a counter. Her body moved before thought could catch up. But her eyes…
A sharp pain bloomed in her skull.
Her vision blurred.
And then—
Blood.
It dripped from the corner of her eyes.
She staggered slightly. Blinking fast, her vision and body struggling to keep up with her reflexes. Caelan, sharp as ever, noticed it—
"Wait—!"
—but it was already too late. His final thrust tore through the air toward her.
CRACK!
A powerful gust of mana exploded between them. The spear stopped inches from Ellen's chest. Ludger stood between them, his palm raised.
"That's enough."
Caelan blinked, his face pale. "I didn't mean—"
"She'll be fine," Ludger said calmly, eyeing Ellen with a hint of concern. "Just overexertion. Her body can't keep up with that kind of reaction speed for long. Rookie mistake."
He turned to the sidelines. "Medic! Get over here."
Two mages in white robes rushed forward, gently guiding Ellen to sit while applying healing spells and ointments.
Ludger's voice echoed once more. "Everyone else, continue your fights. Don't stop unless I say so."
Then, to Caelan, his tone sharpened. "Take it slow. It's none of your fault neither her."
Caelan nodded, his usual confidence dimmed by guilt.
Meanwhile, Ellen sat quietly, her eyes closed as the healers worked. She didn't fully understand what had gone wrong yet. Just that her body had faltered.
"Huh... I guess thats the limit of this body." she muttered under her breath.
Still, a crooked grin tugged at her lips.
"Well, that should be enough for class A."
And so, she rested at the sidelines, hearing the test still continuing.