The morning air at Aetherion Academy felt different.
Students gathered around the large combat arena long before the evaluations officially began. Conversations buzzed across the stone stands as first-years nervously checked their equipment.
Some were stretching.
Some were pacing.
Some looked like they hadn't slept at all.
The First Combat Evaluation had finally arrived.
Ethan Aldric Voss stood near the back of the arena, quietly observing everything.
The massive training ground had been divided into several smaller rings marked by white chalk lines. Instructors and senior students stood around the edges, holding evaluation sheets.
Lucas Hartley was standing beside Ethan, nervously rotating a wooden practice sword in his hands.
"I don't like this."
Ethan glanced at him.
"You said that five times already."
Lucas sighed.
"Because it keeps becoming more true."
His eyes shifted toward the center ring.
Clara Whitmore stood there calmly.
She looked completely relaxed.
Which made Lucas groan.
"See? That's the face of someone who's about to destroy me."
Ethan didn't comment.
Instead, he scanned the arena.
Many familiar faces were present.
Some students would become well-known knights.
Others would vanish from the academy after failing their early evaluations.
And among them—
Several individuals would shape the future of the continent.
Ethan's gaze slowly moved across the crowd.
Then he saw her.
Catherine Ravenscroft stood near one of the weapon racks, quietly adjusting the grip on a training sword.
Her crimson hair was tied behind her again.
Her expression looked calm.
Focused.
Almost exactly like Ethan remembered from the previous timeline.
Lucas followed Ethan's gaze.
"Oh."
"The red-hair prodigy," Lucas said.
"You heard the rumors too?"
Lucas nodded.
"They say she trained with real knights before coming here."
"That sounds accurate."
Lucas scratched his chin.
"Think she's actually that strong?"
Ethan answered without hesitation.
"Yes."
Lucas blinked.
"That confident?"
Ethan simply crossed his arms.
Because he already knew the answer.
Before Lucas could ask more questions, an instructor stepped into the center of the arena.
A tall man wearing dark academy robes.
His voice carried across the field easily.
"Attention."
The noise across the arena slowly faded.
"All first-year combat students will now begin the initial evaluation matches."
He lifted a clipboard.
"Each match will be short and supervised by senior trainees."
The instructor paused.
"Your goal is to demonstrate your ability—not recklessness."
Several students nodded nervously.
Lucas muttered quietly.
"That definitely means recklessness."
The instructor began calling names.
The first match started quickly.
Two first-year students stepped into the ring.
The fight lasted less than thirty seconds.
The senior trainee supervising the match disarmed one of them almost instantly.
The crowd laughed.
Lucas winced.
"Great. Confidence boost."
More matches followed.
Some students performed well.
Some froze completely.
A few managed to surprise the evaluators with clever techniques.
Ethan watched every match carefully.
Even small fights could reveal useful information.
Angles of attack.
Reaction speed.
Confidence under pressure.
Most students followed predictable patterns.
But occasionally someone did something interesting.
Lucas was called about fifteen minutes later.
"Lucas Hartley."
Lucas froze.
"…This is it."
He walked into the ring with the expression of someone heading toward his execution.
Across from him stood Clara Whitmore.
She spun a practice staff in one hand.
Lucas pointed accusingly.
"You're smiling again."
Clara tilted her head.
"Should I not?"
The instructor raised a hand.
"Begin."
Lucas attacked immediately.
A wide horizontal swing.
Clara stepped aside easily.
Then tapped his shoulder with the end of her staff.
The match ended instantly.
Lucas stared in disbelief.
"…That was unfair."
Clara shrugged.
"You're slow."
The crowd chuckled.
Lucas walked back toward Ethan looking completely defeated.
"I lasted three seconds."
"Four," Ethan corrected.
"That's not better."
The matches continued.
Then a name echoed across the arena.
"Catherine Ravenscroft."
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Several students leaned forward.
Catherine stepped calmly into the ring.
Her opponent was a third-year trainee.
Someone significantly more experienced.
Lucas whispered beside Ethan.
"That's rough."
Ethan remained silent.
The instructor raised his hand.
"Begin."
The third-year attacked first.
Fast.
A downward strike aimed directly at Catherine's shoulder.
But Catherine moved before the blade even finished its arc.
Her sword met his.
Metal clashed.
One step.
Two movements.
The third-year's weapon flew from his hand.
Silence filled the arena.
The entire fight had lasted less than three seconds.
Then the crowd erupted.
Lucas's jaw dropped.
"…What."
Catherine stood calmly in the ring.
Her expression barely changed.
The instructor nodded slowly.
"Excellent control."
Catherine simply bowed her head slightly before stepping out of the ring.
Students immediately began whispering.
"That was insane."
"Did you see that footwork?"
"She's definitely getting top rank."
Lucas looked at Ethan.
"You knew."
Ethan didn't deny it.
"I expected something similar."
Lucas stared at him suspiciously.
"You say weird things sometimes."
Ethan ignored the comment.
Instead, his eyes followed Catherine as she walked away from the arena.
Just like the original timeline.
The same overwhelming skill.
The same stunned reactions from the crowd.
Almost perfectly identical.
Almost.
Because Ethan had noticed something again.
During the moment their swords clashed—
The third-year trainee had hesitated slightly.
Only for a fraction of a second.
But it had been enough.
Another small difference.
Another tiny shift.
Ethan crossed his arms thoughtfully.
"…It's happening."
Lucas blinked.
"What is?"
Ethan didn't answer.
Because the instructor had just called another name.
"Ethan Voss."
Lucas looked at him.
"Oh."
"…Good luck."
Ethan stepped forward calmly.
The training sword felt light in his hand.
Students were still whispering about Catherine's match as he entered the ring.
Most of them barely paid attention.
Which was exactly how Ethan preferred it.
His opponent stepped forward.
A second-year trainee.
Confident.
Experienced.
The instructor raised his hand.
"Begin."
The second-year attacked quickly.
A precise thrust aimed at Ethan's chest.
Ethan stepped aside.
The movement was small.
Efficient.
The second attack came immediately.
A diagonal strike.
Ethan parried.
The wooden swords collided.
For a brief moment, the second-year smiled.
Then Ethan moved.
One pivot.
One controlled strike.
The second-year's sword slipped from his hand.
The instructor raised his hand.
"Match over."
Silence spread briefly across the nearby stands.
Lucas blinked.
"…Wait."
The second-year looked at his empty hand in confusion.
Ethan lowered his sword calmly.
Then he stepped out of the ring without saying anything.
A few students began whispering again.
Lucas stared at him.
"…Okay."
"That was weird."
Ethan returned the practice sword to the rack.
He had not shown much.
Just enough.
Just like he intended.
From the stands, Catherine Ravenscroft was watching quietly.
Their eyes met briefly.
Then she turned away.
Ethan looked toward the sky above the academy.
The first important event of the academy year had ended.
And the story—
Had shifted just a little more.