In the middle of the stadium, there was an open high ground of half a mile in radius, in which there was a big square of 1 km², made out of heavy stones. This platform was then divided into ten equal squares separated by metal boundaries. This metal was also used to reinforce the platforms.
On the Eastern side of the stadium, there was a grand building where professors from the academy and people from the administration were present.
When the clock hit 8, a man of normal stature came forward from that building to the podium in front of it. He had a white beard, white hair, a long white mustache, and his white skin had a reddish tint. His face had some wrinkles, and wisdom was evident in his deep brown eyes.
"I, Drona, the Dean of this academy, welcome all of you. As you all know, this is the first time in my tenure and the last 40 years that we are having an open test in this stadium. This decision was made keeping the summoning in mind," he started speaking with control and power. "This summoning was the most devastating summoning we have witnessed. Over ten thousand people died, and fifteen thousand were injured. An area with a radius of half a mile was wiped out of any architecture." His tone then became one of anger. "Children, women, the elderly, and many innocents died. And the reason the culprits gave was that they wanted to show us the real power of the real Gods that they worship." He then stopped and let his words sink in. People were silent as they all didn't know the exact reason behind the summoning. Most of them were angry, but all of them were waiting for his next words. He spoke again after a few seconds, "This academy is called the Protectors Academy because it has produced the most number of protectors. We are duty-bound and determined to do the same in the future too and build a younger generation of protectors who will ensure the safety of followers of dharma and eradicate the evil that darkens the sky and looms over the horizon as the end of humanity. This open test is held here to choose the seeds who will become sheltering trees for Dharma in the future."
"Those who want to enter the academy and become a protector, come forward to the stage. I will personally test your spiritual powers. The last one thousand candidates standing will be given a chance to fight in group battles. And after that, the winner of each group battle will be eligible to enter the academy. And their higher test will be done in academy grounds according to their choice."
Shambhu and other 5000 candidates came forward to the central square. The moment they all stood there firmly, an indescribable pressure descended on them. Even though Guruvar Drona had suppressed his spiritual powers, half of the candidates got instant nausea. In three seconds, they started bleeding from their pores, and in five seconds, they were unconscious.
Shambhu was also feeling the brunt. Even though his body was not rejecting the spiritual power, it was overwhelming even for him. He was unable to see clearly after 15 seconds. But before something else happened, Drona lifted his pressure. Only a thousand candidates had remained standing, and most of them sat down to rest too, just after the external pressure was gone. Then an announcer announced for all those who had passed to come to the Eastern building of the stadium to get checked by medics and healers for any internal injury. Those who had failed the tests were treated too.
The candidates who had passed the test were given cards with numbers from 1 to 100 upon reaching the Eastern building, in the order they had reached the building. Once the first hundred cards were given, the process was repeated. Thus, 10 people having the same numbered card already created a group. The announcer again announced, "You have been given the cards. When your number is announced, come to the fighting platform whose number matches the number in the ones place of your card."
After 10 minutes, the numbers from 1 to 10 were announced. Shambhu had the number 91 card, so it was not his turn for the time being. On all the fighting arenas, one healer, one referee, and two other assistants carrying weapons, which were not too polished and too strong, were standing. Most of these weapons had wood mixed in their frame, wherever it could be used, e.g., handles, hilts, etc., to make the entrance test a little unpredictable. The candidates were supposed to take the weapon of their choice and fight, if they wished.
When all the candidates reached their assigned platforms and took their positions, the fights began with a trumpet blast from a conch.
The fights were easier to watch than Shambhu had thought. Drones were projecting the fights for people to watch. One drone was projecting the fights per thousand people. Shambhu was watching the fight on the first stage with a dramatic real commentary going on in his head.
Raktaa was enjoying the fights a little too much.
"The red-haired, red-eyed, black-skinned boy is fighting three others at once. He spun like a cartwheel over the staff, targeting his legs, and then rolled over the ground. Oh no, the other weaponless boy of the trio is tragically in front of him, and he is trying to grab him by the chest in a bear hug. The big black boy has grabbed both his hands and is bringing them down by force. Before the other two could do anything, he has head-butted the poor boy like an angry bull. The poor guy collapsed like a tree without roots."
But before Raktaa could continue, Shambhu interrupted her. "You do not even need a drinks break while speaking, and I know you have a great knowledge of figures of speech, but please, have some mercy on my ears, oh goddess of tongue."
"I just wanted you to be entertained," Raktaa said.
"I am, but let me see the fights; I might learn something new," Shambhu said. He then focused on the fights, but…..