?????°???°?????

  The Class A evaluation field was located beneath the guild’s main building.

  The temperature had dropped — probably some device regulating the climate.

  We descended three levels on a circular platform elevator. The walls were lined with dark metal. Considering what I had already seen of Valoria, seeing an elevator wasn’t that surprising, but I was intrigued nonetheless.

  It had taken two days.

  Two days to complete the Class C and B missions required by the guild’s protocol. They weren’t difficult — at least not in the traditional sense. The Class C mission was practically a warm-up: containment of a territorial creature that had been advancing near a trade route. The Class B required more coordination, an organized group of beasts that seemed to be pushed out of their natural area.

  After completing the missions, we took the advancement test, which consists of fighting an adventurer of the target class. It doesn’t mean we have to win, but they evaluate how you handle the situation.

  The platform stopped with a dry sound.

  The doors opened to a large, circular hall with high stands surrounding it. It wasn’t crowded, but there were enough spectators to make it… official.

  Some Class A and B adventurers leaned against the upper railing. Others were seated, arms crossed.

  At the center of the arena, a man waited.

  Tall. Gray hair tied behind his head. A simple cloak over combat clothes. A sword visible at his waist.

  A guild employee announced:

  “Final test for promotion to Class A. Candidate: Victor. Format: direct combat against official examiner.”

  I almost smiled.

  Even though he was Class A, he still wasn’t like Pumpkin. So I would be fine either way. The best I could do was focus on demonstrating as much control as possible.

  I walked to the center.

  The man evaluated me from head to toe.

  “So you’re the prodigy recommended by Don.”

  “Something like that.”

  He cracked his neck.

  “We’ll start without mana and without weapons, until I say otherwise.”

  I nodded.

  The barrier around the arena activated with a faint glow.

  I could hear murmurs from the spectators.

  “Will he be okay? I know he’s strong but…”

  “He looks very young.”

  “I mean, he must be capable, he already made it this far.”

  Honestly, I didn’t care. I was also grateful Merlin and Don didn’t say anything to defend me — it was better this way.

  But if Pumpkin were present, she would probably try to boost my morale and embarrass me deeply.

  On the bright side, the test isn’t written. That would truly be humiliating for me. I could only pray that my [Adaptation] would carry me.

  “First. My name is Jason. I will be evaluating you.”

  I let out a restrained laugh.

  “That’s a pretty common name.”

  “Victor isn’t the most exotic name either.” He shot back.

  “What can I say? I consider myself quite ordinary in many things.”

  I removed my coat and tied it around my waist. Even though it was more durable than it looked, there was no reason to risk it. I flexed my fingers once, feeling the joints settle into place. The controlled cold of the environment helped keep my breathing steady.

  Jason also took a few steps back, lightly rolling his shoulders as if waking up his own body.

  There was no rush.

  He advanced first.

  The movement was clean, without hesitation. His front foot slid over the stone floor and, in the same motion, his fist came straight toward my face. There was no exaggeration in the gesture, no unnecessary movement. It was a technical punch, short and precise.

  I tilted my torso just enough to let it pass and responded with a strike to his abdomen, controlling the force at the last instant.

  The impact was solid.

  He didn’t step back.

  He simply rotated his hips and tried to hit me with his elbow. I blocked with my forearm and felt the shock vibrate through the bone. He had greater physical strength than I initially judged, but it wasn’t a problem — I didn’t feel pain from those blows.

  Jason smiled faintly.

  “You pull your strikes when they’re about to land.”

  “Habit.”

  He didn’t comment, but advanced again.

  This time the sequence came faster: two jabs to test distance, followed by a heavier cross. I dodged the first, brushed aside the second with an open palm, and blocked the third. The impact pushed me half a step back.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  He knew how to use his body weight. Every strike was born from his feet, traveled up his legs, and concentrated in his fist at the last second. Nothing was wasted.

  I needed to be careful.

  As a Metamorph, my body was denser than a human’s. If I returned the same intensity, I could cause unnecessary damage.

  He attempted a low sweep. I jumped at the exact moment and, upon landing, I drove a side kick into his ribs.

  He slid a few centimeters across the stone.

  The murmurs in the stands changed tone.

  “Hey, hey! This guy is really strong!”

  “They’re both not using mana, I can barely see some of their movements.”

  I let out a small laugh. Jason noticed and tilted his head.

  “What is it? Is the test that easy?”

  I shook my hands.

  “No. I’m just surprised that what I am now is what people call strong.”

  He shared a laugh as well.

  “You’re not fighting like someone desperate to rank up. With that neutral face you’ve had the entire fight.”

  I blinked in confusion, placing a hand on my face.

  “Hm. I’m not desperate. And I’m not mocking your strength either. It’s just that after certain things, I can’t afford not to take a fight seriously from the start.”

  “I see."

  Jason slowly rotated his neck, as if releasing accumulated tension.

  “Alright,” he said, his breathing now deeper. “Let’s raise the level.”

  Then his mana began to emanate. Rising in a pillar and spreading across the barrier. The vacuum it created hit me, throwing my hair back.

  But that worried me — was it fine for him to waste mana like that? Or was he trying to put on a show for the audience? Either way.

  I took a deep breath and let my mana flow freely. That made many in the stands gasp.

  “What an absurd amount…”

  “That mana is extremely oppressive…”

  Merlin gave a small smile in the stands. Don was observing attentively as well.

  The last time Merlin saw me fight was when we were heading to Cirgo. I was clumsy and got injured by wolves, I didn’t even know how to manipulate my mana.

  So even before the fight truly began, a thought crossed my mind, knowing she was watching…

  ‘I’m going to show off a little.’

  ━━━━━━━━━?◆?━━━━━━━━━

  The pressure in the arena changed completely.

  It was no longer just the sound of fists cutting through the air or feet scraping stone. Mana filled the space like an invisible tide, compressing the environment, making the barrier vibrate with a low, constant hum.

  Jason moved first.

  Or rather — disappeared.

  He hadn’t truly vanished. I could still feel the trail, the minimal distortion in the mana around me. But to ordinary eyes, the center of the arena was empty for a moment.

  An impact came from the right.

  I blocked on reflex, reinforcing my forearm the instant his fist collided with me. The shockwave swept dust off the ground.

  He was no longer there when I counterattacked.

  Behind.

  I spun and defended a kick aimed at my neck. The contact was heavy, but now I wasn’t holding back as much. My mana reinforced my body.

  Jason retreated, only to advance again.

  He started using his skills.

  His presence fluctuated. It wasn’t total invisibility, but something more refined — signature reduction, sound suppression, sudden acceleration. Each step displaced less air than it should. Each movement left a minimal delay in perception.

  I didn’t know which skills he had, but this felt like extra skills focused on stealth.

  He appeared to my left, fist already inches from my face.

  I increased my processing speed instantly. The world slowed slightly, as if someone had reduced the tempo around me. I saw the muscle contraction before the impact. I tilted my head, letting the blow graze my hair, and rotated to flank him.

  He smiled when he realized I was keeping up.

  The arena became a blur.

  To those watching from outside, it must have looked like no one was there. Only gusts of wind, explosions of stone, small craters appearing and disappearing under invisible impacts.

  “They… vanished?” someone murmured in the stands.

  “No, idiot. Look there— no, wait— where?!”

  “I can’t see even when enhancing my perception. I’m Class B, but I didn’t know the difference to Class A was this high.”

  A crash echoed when our fists collided at the center of the arena, revealing our positions for a fraction of a second before we moved again.

  Jason increased the pressure even further.

  The ground cracked under the points where he propelled himself. He began alternating impossible angles, exploiting blind spots and using small traces of mana to mask his intent.

  I didn’t try to chase him directly.

  I increased my own speed gradually — not in an explosion, but in continuous adaptation. My mana adjusted micro muscle tensions, recalibrated balance, refined perception. I didn’t need to be faster than him at the start. I just needed to catch up.

  He appeared above, descending with a vertical kick.

  I crossed my arms and absorbed the impact, letting the force push me back while already rotating out of the next line.

  He reappeared in my blind spot.

  I was already moving.

  Our strikes began meeting halfway, creating small explosions of compressed air with every collision. The barrier vibrated with growing intensity.

  Jason tried something different.

  For a second, his presence completely vanished from my direct perception. No sound. No air displacement. No immediate pressure.

  But the surrounding mana contracted.

  ‘Behind.’

  I turned at the exact moment he reappeared, mana-reinforced fist aiming at my temple. I blocked with an open palm, redirecting the blow downward, and used the momentum to spin and land a side kick on his flank.

  This time, he was pushed several meters back, dragging his sole across the ground to stabilize.

  We both stopped for half a second.

  Controlled breathing.

  He tilted his head, evaluating.

  “Now we move to the final phase,” he said, drawing the sword at his waist and pointing it at me. “The papers said you had a weapon.”

  I smiled faintly.

  I extended my left arm, black smoke emanating from my palm. With my right hand, I grabbed what seemed to be the hilt of a sword.

  Slowly, I pulled it out. Fragments like shards of glass gathered together, forming its blade. Then I stationed it beside my body.

  It wasn’t a skill like [Inventory] that Pumpkin had. It was the space where the things I absorb with my [Skillful King] go. Using [Defragmentation], I decided it was better to keep my belongings stored there.

  In any case, it was just another trick my skill had. I wouldn’t reveal it — after all, it’s not even an offensive skill, it’s more of a support skill.

  So anyone who saw me using that would probably assume it was something like the extra skill [Inventory].

  I placed the sword over my left shoulder, the dull edge almost touching my neck. “Let’s go, then.”

  The blade of my sword began to whiten. Cold vapor escaping from it.

  “That’s your stance?”

  “Uh-huh. Is there something wrong with it?”

  “Well… I guess not. You must know what you’re doing…”

  He wasn’t wrong. But yes, this stance isn’t ideal for swordsmen. The reason is simple.

  The most basic stance would be to hold the blade forward, like Jason did. That way you’re prepared to defend, attack, and counterattack any movement from your opponent.

  To someone experienced, I would seem like just an amateur, which isn’t far from reality.

  My stance imitates a man pointing his weapon at his own neck, as if about to tear off his own head. That was the initial idea.

  I showed it to Hogan when I developed it. Someone like him read me like a book the moment he saw it.

  “What a trickster.” That’s what he told me with a loud laugh.

  Jason advanced, his blade wrapped in mana.

  Disappearing instantly. Then I moved my sword. Colliding with his, a look of surprise appeared on his face at that instant. Then… in the blink of an eye, my sword was already back at my right side, resting.

  In front of me, a pile of ice covered the arena, rising up to the barriers. Jason, inside it, had a superficial cut running from one shoulder to the other, his sword perfectly severed.

  I held myself back from cutting him deeply. This strike is meant to freeze the target from the inside and shatter them along with the ice. But killing was not my intention at that moment.

  I created this using as reference what Serena did to defeat monstrified Orion. Of course, what I do doesn’t even compare to what she’s capable of with ice. Even conceptually, a Class (B) skill can’t compare to a Unique Class (S).

  Even so, I wouldn’t be able to cause irreversible damage to him the way Serena did to Orion. [Ice Rose] truly was a monstrous skill.

  “So… I passed, right?”

  The spectators snapped out of their shock.

  “Wooow! That was incredible!”

  “I didn’t even see when he attacked!”

  “I saw nothing! When I realized it, everything was already frozen!”

  “Hey! Victor! Whenever you want, how about coming to do some missions with our group too?!”

  Merlin was waving her arms at me.

  “That was so cool!!!”

  Don merely nodded.

  It was loud, but I was satisfied.

  ?????°???°?????