Chapter 15: Atomic Manipulation.
The sprawling grounds of Ragandarok Academy were a sight to behold. The main building, reminiscent of a grand university campus, was dwarfed by the sheer size of the training arenas that surrounded it. These arenas were the lifeblood of the academy, each dedicated to a specific discipline: one for knights, another for adventurers, and the last for the exploration corps. These were the three core divisions of the academy, and each required its own space to hone the unique skills of its students. With first, second, and third-year students all needing daily training, the academy's vast grounds were a necessity, a testament to the kingdom's investment in its future warriors and scholars. Ragandarok Academy was not just a school—it was a fortress of knowledge and power, larger even than the royal palace itself.
The arena where the entrance exam would take place was one of the three main training grounds. The air was crisp, carrying the faint chill of early autumn. Mornings and evenings were cold, while midday brought a fleeting warmth, as if spring had briefly kissed the land. Though the sun hung high in the sky, its rays were weak, offering little comfort to the students who stood at the edge of the arena, their breaths visible in the cool air.
The academy's campus was adorned with trees, their leaves a vibrant tapestry of orange and yellow. These trees encircled the arenas, their branches swaying gently in the breeze, shedding leaves that drifted lazily to the ground. Stone pathways, intricately designed with gray, decorative patterns, connected the academy's main building to the training grounds and the grand entrance gate. In spring, the campus would be a paradise of blooming flowers and lush greenery, but now, in autumn, it was a place of quiet beauty, a prelude to the storm that was about to unfold.
Two hundred and forty-three students stood at the edge of the central arena, their eyes fixed on the barren, earthen ground before them. The arena was not paved with stone or cement but was instead a vast expanse of packed brown soil, the kind found deep within forests. It was raw and unyielding, a fitting stage for the brutal test that awaited them.
One student, a bald man in his early twenties wielding a mace, suddenly felt an acorn drop onto his head. He picked it up, examining it with a look of disdain. "An acorn?" he muttered. "The greatest academy in the world, and this is the best it can offer? No apples, no oranges—just this hard, useless thing?"
Before he could say more, the elegantly dressed old man in black emerged from the shadows behind him, plucking the acorn from his hand. The old man began walking toward the center of the arena, peeling the acorn as he spoke. "Humans are meant to think with their minds, not their stomachs. Oak trees improve the quality of the soil and provide clean air. Their wood is of the highest quality, and they are rich in Menma particles, which you will need to perform even the simplest of movements."
He popped the peeled acorn into his mouth, glancing at the small watch on his wrist. "It's exactly nine o'clock. I will be the sole overseer of this exam. You may finish in minutes, hours, or even days—it makes no difference to me. The exam ends when the first thirty of you have accumulated ten points. It doesn't matter if you have nine points or eight at that moment. This is not just a test of combat; it's a race to collect points. Now, without further delay, step into the arena. The moment I merge with the shadow of one of you, the exam will begin. Things are about to get... interesting."
Fulan and Fayrouz stood far apart, unable to see each other amidst the sea of students. The arena was vast, and each student was the protagonist of their own story, their ambitions and dreams colliding in this crucible of competition.
As the students began to step into the arena, their faces a mix of determination and apprehension, the old man leaped into the nearest shadow and vanished. Those who saw it froze, their eyes widening in shock. The exam had begun without warning, without fanfare. For those who hadn't seen the old man disappear, the realization came too late.
The more observant students, however, seized the opportunity. Over thirty of them moved with predatory intent, their faces betraying their plans to betray the unprepared. But among those who had seen the old man's disappearance was Fayrouz, a girl with long black hair streaked with blue, her eyes glowing with a fierce light as she prepared to unleash her ability.
Fayrouz stood at the center of the arena, her hands pressed firmly against the ground. As the treacherous students began their advance, she spoke, her voice calm but resolute. "The academy's teaching philosophy is based on reality. The enemy won't announce when they'll attack. But even so, this exam holds great importance for all of us. We all deserve an equal chance!"
**[Atomic Manipulation ~ Mountain Tremor!!]**
*Crack!*
The ground beneath her hands shattered, fissures spreading like spiderwebs as the arena trembled violently. Students screamed, their balance lost as the earth itself seemed to rebel against them. The source of the quake was Fayrouz, her hair whipping around her as the recoil of her power surged through her body.
"Justice is the foundation of society," she declared, her voice cutting through the chaos. "Without justice, there can be no bright future!"
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