The candidates were gathering inside a specific building. It was huge, with an arena in the center, surrounded by stands where people could sit and watch the fights.
I went there with the guard still accompanying me. Sitting in the stands, I saw Brian and Selena.
"I thought you had classes or something," I said, sitting beside them.
Brian wasn’t that close to me yet, but Selena was.
"All the first-year students were given a break to come watch the fights," she said. "We might learn something."
The second- and third-year students probably didn’t want to waste time watching weak people fight. But the first-year students, who still had so much to learn, could pick up a thing or two from watching these fights.
That was my assumption.
There were plenty of empty seats, so the guard who had been helping me decided to sit beside me. Selena noticed it, of course. She leaned in and whispered.
"What’s he doing here? Don’t tell me you have a recommendation letter and a personal security guard. Who the hell are you?"
I had to laugh.
"No. He was just showing me around the academy since I don’t have to take the test. I think he just wants to see the fights too. You know, find a way to avoid working."
"I heard that," the guard said. Then he added, "But he’s right. I’m not his personal security guard."
Selena stopped asking about it, which was good. I didn’t want to tell her that I was the principal’s disciple. She would find out when the time came, of course.
I still had no idea how this whole principal’s disciple thing would work, and I knew there was something else about it, something the principal wasn’t telling me.
So many students had C-rank awakened powers. Some students even had B- or A-rank powers. The principal could have chosen any of them as his disciple, but he didn’t. He chose me.
I wasn’t naive enough to think I was better than everyone else. I had to be careful.
But that was something to think about another time. We sat and watched the fights in the arena.
Before the fights started, someone walked into the middle of the arena with a microphone in hand. It was the same officer who had met us at the entrance.
For some reason, he glanced at me. It was only for a second, but I noticed it.
I just hoped he wasn’t looking for trouble with me. Either way, he started talking. This time, his gaze moved across everyone in the stands and the candidates who would participate in the fights.
"This is the entrance exam for the New Order Hunter Academy," he said, his voice echoing through the almost empty building. "Out of everyone here, we hope that at least 50% of you will join the academy."
Whispers started the moment he said 50%. I frowned as well.
The academy was prestigious, so it didn’t admit many people. It only used its resources to nurture those who would someday become powerful. Spending money on the untalented wasn’t worth it.
But a 50% admission rate? That was bullshit. Even less prestigious academies didn’t admit that many candidates per batch.
If I added that to the fact that Selena was also a recent student, things were really, really weird. They were accepting way more students than normal for some reason.
What were they hiding? What was the problem I didn’t know about?
I was certain of one thing: it wasn’t normal. Judging by the expressions of some of the people present, I wasn’t the only one thinking that.
"I’ll call two random candidates into the arena. The fight isn’t about hurting your opponent, but showing what you’re capable of."
"And remember, winning the fight doesn’t mean you’ll be accepted. I’m watching your performance during the fight, not the result."
The officer then pointed at two random candidates. Both of them walked into the arena. The officer, whose name I still didn’t know, remained there as well, probably to make sure the candidates didn’t seriously hurt each other.
"We had the same test," Selena said.
"You both won your fights?" I asked.
"Yeah. Our opponents weren’t that strong. Many candidates try to join the academy without meeting the bare minimum required to pass. Not that they’re wrong. Taking a risk is honorable."
The first two candidates were both men. One wore a leather jacket and had spiked hair. He looked like a rock star.
The other was just a normal-looking guy with short, straight hair and glasses.
I couldn’t tell what their powers were just by looking at them. No one could, actually. The guy with spiked hair kept clenching his fists, looking like he wanted to rush forward and start the fight as soon as possible.
Neither of them moved. The officer still hadn’t given them permission to start fighting, and they followed his instructions. Doing otherwise would get them disqualified.
"Remember what I said. Don’t hurt your opponent too badly. Just make sure no one dies or is crippled. Now, FIGHT!"
The guy with spiked hair activated his power. Spikes emerged from his body in every direction. They were white and looked like bone.
He could control the bones in his body. Or perhaps he was creating new ones. That could be the case, considering he didn’t seem to be in pain or look like he was missing any bones.
With those bones covering his body like armor, he ran toward the guy with glasses.
The bones protruding from his hands were like spears, ready to pierce his opponent. That would certainly hurt a lot. He was a dangerous-looking guy.
I noticed that the guy with glasses wasn’t moving. He didn’t look scared either. I would’ve been scared with that crazy spiked guy running at me, but he wasn’t.
Then, when the spiked guy punched at him, aiming the spikes at his torso, something happened.
I felt a weak breeze hit my face and move my hair. But inside the arena, the wind was much stronger.
The wind struck the guy with glasses, pushing him in the opposite direction and helping him dodge the attack.
The spiked guy attacked again and again, but the wind was still there, increasing the other guy’s speed and allowing him to swiftly dodge every attack.
Quite impressive, actually. The guy could control the wind and had found multiple uses for his power, such as using it to increase his own speed.
And he wasn’t just dodging. The guy with glasses opened his hand, and visible greenish wind formed around his palm. Then, with a clean strike, he cut through the bones covering the spiked guy’s arms, destroying his main method of attack.