The written exam hall emptied out like a sinking ship, students flooding into the corridors with expressions ranging from sheer panic to quiet confidence. Among them, Lucien Valehart was an island of calm. He had finished a full thirty minutes early, and his exit was as dramatic as his entrance—the heavy doors swinging shut behind him like a final judgment on those still struggling inside.
He hadn't taken ten steps into the hallway when his gaze fell upon a familiar head of white hair. The girl from the courtyard—Shiro—was leaning against a wall, her blue eyes distant, looking utterly lost in thought, or perhaps just utterly lost. A slow, condescending smile spread across Lucien's face.
Lucien: Hmm.... So even a person like you managed to scrape through that? I'm impressed. In a pathetic sort of way.
Shiro didn't even look at him. Her only response was a slow blink, as if swatting away a mildly annoying fly.
Lucien: Well, no need to worry your pretty little head about it for long, he continued, his voice dripping with mock reassurance. Commoners like you always die at the second exam. It's practically a tradition.
He paused, letting the cruelty of his words hang in the air. He was undoubtedly looking down on her, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement at her expense.
Lucien: Good luck at the exam. You'll need a miracle.
With a final, dismissive glance, he strode past her, his red hair a banner of superiority in the dim hallway. she finally turned her head, watching him go. Her expression wasn't one of anger or hurt, but of simple, profound annoyance.
Shiro: (Muttering to herself) What a noisy guy.
Days bled into one another, the tension in Kaizen Town thickening with each passing hour. Finally, the day of the second exam arrived. The academy's main training ground was transformed. A massive, circular combat arena of packed earth lay at its center, surrounded by rising tiers of stone benches that were already filling with current academy students, their chatter a loud, buzzing hive of anticipation.
High above, on the left side, a balcony enclosed by thick, impenetrable glass overlooked everything. Every examinee's eyes flicked toward it. That was where the higher-ups would be watching—the professors and officials who held their fates in their hands.
The air was electric with nerves and excitement. The crowd was a sea of katanas. Whether a student was dressed in silks or rough-spun wool, rich or poor, noble or commoner, every single one carried the sleek, curved blade at their hip. It was the universal tool, the essential conduit. To channel mana with any precision, to wield an Art Style, you needed a focus, and the katana was the perfect instrument—an extension of the warrior's soul.
Two young men, barely more than boys, jostled each other in the crowd, their voices rising above the din.
Kid 1: Did you hear? They finally confirmed it! The second exam is a one-on-one fight! How cool is that?
Kid 2: Cool? It's cool until you get someone like Lucien Valehart as your opponent. Then it's a funeral.
Kid 1: Oh, speaking of monsters... I heard a rumor that someone from the Ilyselle family is here too. Can you imagine? Two of the Five Nobles, in our exam year?
Kid 2: Yaaa... no doubt about it. Whoever has to fight one of them... I already feel sorry for them. They're not just here to pass; they're here to make a statement.
Kid 1 & Kid 2: (Simultaneously, with nervous laughter) Yeah...
A hush fell as a man in official academy robes stepped to the center of the arena, his voice magically amplified to reach every corner of the grounds.
Announcer: First of all, I would like to thank all of you for coming from every corner of our kingdom to participate in this sacred tradition. The path to Shikai Academy is one of strength and resolve! And as you have all guessed... that's right! The second exam is a one-versus-one combat trial! Only the winner will earn the right to enter the academy. The loser will return home.
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the hundreds of hopefuls.
Announcer: There are, however, rules. Break even one, and you will be disqualified immediately.
His voice hardened, becoming stern and absolute.
Announcer: First rule: You cannot kill, or inflict permanent damage upon, your opponent.
Announcer: Second rule: You are free to use any Art Form you have mastered.
Announcer: Third rule: The fight ends when one combatant concedes defeat, is rendered unconscious, or is otherwise unable to continue.
He swept his gaze across the sea of young faces, some pale with fear, others burning with fierce determination.
Announcer: That is all. Let the battles... begin!