Chapter 610: Final Day

The third day of the evaluation had finally arrived, and with it came a noticeable shift in atmosphere. Once again, both first- and second-year students were gathered within the grand Eastern Training Hall of the academy, standing in orderly rows. At the front stood their head instructor, Sir Kaelen Bane, flanked by several other instructors and authoritative figures. Seated further up on the elevated stage were the most influential presences of all—the Headmaster Thion himself, composed and unreadable as ever, and his assistant headmistress, Lucia, watching the hall with sharp, observant eyes.

Liam’s gaze moved across the stage, slowing when he picked out a familiar figure among the seated authorities.

’I wonder what Mystica is doing here,’ he thought, narrowing his eyes slightly as he focused on her. ’She wasn’t present during the last two days. Neither were most of these people,’ he added inwardly, taking in the unfamiliar faces beside her. ’Yet they’re all here today?’ His thoughts shifted as realization crept in. ’Because it’s sparring?’

He studied the figures atop the stage a moment longer before letting out a quiet breath. ’Well, I suppose it makes sense they’d be here for this.’ His expression hardened just a little. ’Hopefully, unlike the past two days, we’ll be allowed to use our myst fully.’

That thought lingered briefly before another surfaced, less welcome but impossible to ignore.

’That aside, it’s obvious Percy never actually wanted that spar,’ Liam thought, recalling recent events. ’Which means I’ll have to find another way to strengthen Sheila’s confidence… and her resolve.’

“Greetings to you all,” Sir Kaelen’s voice rang out across the hall, firm and commanding, instantly drawing everyone’s attention forward. “As you are all well aware, today marks the final day of your evaluation.” He paused, letting his gaze sweep across the assembled students. “You have endured and survived the past two days of trials, and I—along with the many distinguished figures seated behind me—say this plainly: well done. You have performed admirably.”

He allowed his words to settle, giving the students time to absorb them. Some straightened subtly with pride, while others reflected in silence, expressions mixed with relief, exhaustion, and lingering tension.

“However,” Kaelen continued, his tone sharpening just enough to cut through any growing comfort, “surviving the first two days alone does not guarantee advancement, nor does it secure your ranking.” He paused deliberately. “Today’s evaluation will.”

A faint ripple moved through the hall.

“If you are aware that your performance over the last two days was lacking,” Kaelen added evenly, “then consider today your opportunity to make amends.”

The students listened closely now, many recognizing this as their final chance to secure their place. Failure today could mean demotion, humiliation, or being forced to repeat a year alongside juniors.

“Now then,” Kaelen said, clasping his hands behind his back, “I believe most of you already know what today’s evaluation entails. But a reminder is never wasted.” His eyes hardened slightly. “Today’s trial will be based entirely on sparring matches against your peers.”

Silence dominated the hall as he continued.

“Given your combined number of two hundred students,” Kaelen explained, “each year will be divided into two groups. Each group will be assigned to one of the academy’s grand training halls.”

He gestured broadly as he spoke. “This means there will be two halls allocated per year, with each hall accommodating fifty students at a time. First-years will be assigned to the East and West halls. Second-years will be assigned to the North and South halls.”

A few students exchanged glances.

“As for your sparring matches,” Kaelen continued calmly, “your opponents have already been selected by the academy.”

At that, low murmurs rippled through the crowd. The realization hit hard—anyone could be matched with anyone. Strong against weak. Rivals against rivals. Friends against friends.

“And regarding the rules,” Kaelen said, completely unfazed by the tension building among the students, “you are permitted to use your myst freely, in whatever manner you deem fit.” He paused. “That is the only rule.”

The effect was immediate. The lingering pressure from the previous days seemed to loosen as relief and anticipation spread through the ranks.

“As for how this trial will proceed,” Kaelen continued, his voice steady and authoritative, “each training hall will contain four sparring stages. That means four matches will take place simultaneously at any given time.”

He looked over them one final time. “During your matches, you are permitted to fight at full strength. There is no need to hold back.” A faint, dangerous smile touched his expression. “Specialized arrays have been established around each stage to prevent fatalities or irreversible harm.”

As Kaelen’s words settled over the hall, the reaction from the students was immediate. Heads turned, eyes lit up, and quiet excitement rippled through the gathered crowd. Many of them clearly welcomed the conditions of today’s trial, the tension of the previous days giving way to anticipation and confidence. Whispers broke out here and there, filled with eagerness and competitive hunger.

Liam, standing among them, felt a similar reaction—though his was far more controlled. His gaze remained steady as his thoughts turned inward.

’I like this,’ he thought calmly. ’Full use of Myst alone would have already been enough.’ His eyes sharpened slightly. ’But adding Arrays as safety measures so we can go all out without restraint? That just makes things better.’

A faint smirk tugged subtly at the corner of his lips as another realization followed. Depending on who he was paired against—or perhaps regardless of it—there was a very real chance the match wouldn’t last long at all.

’If the Arrays activate the moment they detect a lethal threat,’ Liam reasoned, ’then all I have to do is go for the kill the instant the match begins.’ His eyes glinted faintly. ’The match would end the moment the Arrays trigger. That much is obvious.’

He exhaled slowly, confidence settling comfortably in his chest.

’This should be quick. And clean.’

“Now, with all that said,” Kaelen spoke again, drawing everyone’s attention back to the front. “It is time to send you all to your designated halls.” He paused deliberately. “However, before that, there is one matter that must be addressed here.”

Curiosity spread instantly. Students exchanged glances, murmurs bubbling up as they wondered what Kaelen meant. Before anyone could voice a question, the air at the center of the hall distorted. In the next moment, a massive fighting platform materialized behind them with a low, resonant hum.

The students turned almost in unison, eyes widening as they stared at the grand stage. Confusion followed quickly after, especially given Kaelen’s earlier statement about four stages being placed in each hall.

“Amongst you,” Kaelen continued evenly, “one student will have their sparring match first.” His gaze swept across the crowd. “And it will take place here. In front of everyone.”

“One?” someone muttered under their breath. “Shouldn’t it be two?”

Similar thoughts echoed throughout the hall as murmurs grew louder, confusion mixing with unease.

“Yes, I am aware of what you’re thinking,” Kaelen said flatly. “And frankly, your opinions are irrelevant.” His eyes hardened. “Therefore, be quiet.”

The hall fell silent instantly.

“Now,” Kaelen continued without pause, “as I was saying—one of you will be granted the opportunity to spar here and now.” He paused again, letting his next words sink in. “Your opponent will be a third-year.”

The reaction was immediate. Shock rippled through the students as they struggled to process what they had just heard. First- or second-year students facing a third-year? Whispers erupted again, filled with disbelief and nervous anticipation.

Liam, however, merely narrowed his eyes slightly.

’This can’t be what I think it is, can it?’ He thought, suspicion flickering through his otherwise calm expression.

“Without further delay,” Kaelen said, raising a hand as a portal shimmered into existence before the students, “let us welcome the Rank One of the third years.”

The portal brightened.

“Percy Granger.”

A figure stepped through.

The reaction was instant and overwhelming. Shock, awe, and disbelief washed over the students as the strongest third-year of the Dark Knight Academy emerged before them. The presence he carried was suffocating, descending upon the hall like a sudden winter storm.

Percy Granger stood tall, his snow-white hair perfectly kept, his academy uniform immaculate. His piercing blue eyes were cold and emotionless, cutting through the crowd without effort. The air around him seemed to chill as his aura spread, heavy and oppressive.

His gaze drifted over the assembled first- and second-years, dismissive and sharp, until it stopped, locking onto Liam.

The two stared at one another, neither showing emotion. Expressionless eyes met expressionless eyes, neither backing down, neither flinching.

’Guess it is what I think it is,’ Liam thought calmly as he held Percy’s gaze.

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