Then Archery is my path

We stopped, our muscles aching and fatigued, but we maintained steady breathing to keep the aether circuit active. Despite the competition, we couldn't lose sight of the primary reason we were here.

After a few moments, my breathing stabilized, and I no longer had to focus on controlling it. Straightening my posture, I let go of my knees, which had been supporting my upper body. As I stood upright, I was met with a hall full of applause and laughter.

"That was epic!

Star in the wind!

HAHAHA!

Bravo!"

It was then I realized how I must have looked to the spectators when I leaped into the air and let the wind current propel me forward. Feeling my cheeks heat up, I quickly adjusted my hood, pulling it lower to hide my face, which was undoubtedly red.

The boy who finished alongside me approached, a grin on his face.

"You cheated," he said bluntly.

"So did you," I replied without hesitation.

My words caught him off guard, his expression shifting to surprise.

"How do you know?"

I couldn't tell him the truth—that I had noticed his subtle use of wind manipulation. Instead, I smirked slightly and shrugged.

"You just confirmed it yourself."

He stared at me for a moment, suspicion flickering in his black eyes, but then he relaxed and extended a hand.

"That was interesting. I'm Liam. We'll do it again sometime."

I took his hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Kail. If we pass this exam, then I'd be happy to."

Liam was a bit shorter than me, with black hair streaked with green strands that matched the dark green of the Ventus constitution. His black eyes held a sharp, calculating gleam, and his physique was similar to mine, though his forearms seemed slightly more defined.

"At least the first stage of the exam is over," he said.

"Where did you get that idea?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Look at some people's plates," he said, pointing.

I followed his gaze and noticed that a few of the plates worn by other participants were no longer fully colored. They had started to return to their original silver tone, the vibrant hues fading gradually.

"Here, they tested if you could maintain a circuit not just constantly, but also while performing certain actions. They also wanted to see if the flow of aether remained consistent," Liam explained.

I glanced at my plate, as well as Liam's, and noticed that both remained as green as they were when we first activated them.

"Possibly because of my breathing technique," I thought to myself.

"So, that's why you provoked me out of everyone here?" I asked.

"Mostly, yeah," Liam admitted. "But also because you were the first to actually do something interesting. I was this close to exploding from boredom."

As if to confirm his statement, the voice from the walls echoed through the hall once again.

"All the people whose plates turned black, please leave the room," the voice commanded.

Immediately, several individuals' plates, which had previously displayed the color of their respective elements, turned pitch black. Mine, however, remained unchanged.

The central doors opened, allowing sunlight to pour into the hall—a stark reminder that an entire day might have passed since the exam had begun. Some people hesitated, refusing to leave, and a few even tried to voice their objections. However, before they could say much, a figure materialized out of thin air. With a single, fluid movement, the figure subdued them, rendering them unconscious. Within moments, both the rebellious participants and the figure disappeared entirely.

Once the room settled, only about two-thirds of the initial crowd remained.

"Part 2 of the exam begins," the voice announced.

The floor beneath us began to descend, revealing an even larger, cavernous space below. The new area was filled with countless small, white tables, each designed for a single person. These tables were spaced apart, with partitions on either side and in front, ensuring isolation for each participant.

Liam and I exchanged a brief glance before parting ways, each heading to a separate table. Once seated, I felt the subtle hum of the table activating, and soon, a hologram appeared above it. The hologram displayed three choices:

Tank

Knight

Scout

These were the three essential roles for those specializing in Mana Armis. My choice was clear—I pressed Scout.

Immediately, the hologram began displaying a series of theoretical questions. Topics ranged from a scout's duties in various scenarios to complex multiple-choice questions about tracking techniques, gathering intelligence, and even the effects of environmental factors on reconnaissance missions.

Some of the questions were straightforward, but others delved into obscure scenarios and concepts.

This… isn't going great.

After what felt like an eternity, I submitted my final answer. A moment later, my results appeared on the hologram:

68%

Wait for the next orders.

I let out a quiet sigh.

That could've gone better.

Minutes later, the familiar voice echoed again, cutting through the tension.

"All participants who scored less than 60%, please return to the platform you came from."

I exhaled deeply, relief washing over me.

Phew, that was close.

The number of participants eliminated this time was significantly smaller, but those who failed to meet the required threshold struggled to support themselves as they shuffled toward the exit.

"The 3rd stage begins. Please move forward when your hologram instructs you," the voice announced.

Gradually, faint sounds filled the room as people got up and started heading forward in small batches. Every five or six minutes, another group would rise and move out. Over time, more than 50 groups had already departed. Finally, my turn arrived.

The hologram above my table displayed the message: Proceed forward. Without hesitation, I rose from my seat and started walking.

As I moved, I noticed that all the tables around me were now empty. Only seven others were heading toward the same destination, their plates marking them as being in the 700-800 range. Mine, however, stood out—it was marked with the 900 series, the highest among us.

We passed through the rows of abandoned tables until we reached a large double door. Beyond it lay a room with metallic walls, their surfaces etched with strange cuts that seemed to hum faintly with residual energy. Standing at the center of the room was a man in his 40s, with short brown hair and tired black eyes. His posture and expression betrayed exhaustion, as though he'd repeated this process countless times.

When he noticed us, he delivered his instructions in a flat, monotone voice, devoid of any enthusiasm:

"Each of you, one by one, will attack me starting with the person whose number is lower. Attack me with everything you have. When I say Stop, you must immediately cease all actions. You may choose your weapon from the rack to your left."

Without waiting for a response, he gestured toward a weapon rack lined with an assortment of arms.

I made my way to the rack, scanning the options until my eyes landed on a recurve bow crafted entirely from polished wood. It was simple but elegant, exuding a craftsmanship that immediately appealed to me. I grabbed the bow, along with a hip quiver filled with 20 arrows.

It feels good in the hand, I thought, testing the tension of the string. This is a quality bow.

Once armed, I turned my attention to the others. According to the numbering, I would go last.

One by one, the others stepped forward to face the instructor. Each match ended in the same way—swift and decisive. The first attack was always allowed to land, seemingly without resistance, but the moment the instructor began to counter, it was over. Most challengers barely had time to activate their Mana Armis before they were incapacitated.

The person before me didn't even manage to raise his armor before the instructor's fist was inches from his face. He crumpled under the pressure, defeated in a matter of seconds.

Then it was my turn.

I stepped forward, the recurve bow resting in my grip, my heart steady but my mind sharp. As I stood across from the instructor, his tired eyes locked onto mine. Despite his fatigue, there was an unmistakable sharpness in his gaze—a predator sizing up its next prey.

The instructor's second phrase came, casual yet dismissive:

"You're the last one. Let's finish this quickly. I'm really exhausted."

The tone irritated me slightly, though I didn't let it show. Without a word, I slowly pulled an arrow from the quiver and nocked it onto the bowstring. This simple act, the beginning of my attack, seemed to elicit no reaction from him—until I attempted to activate my Mana Armis.

Before I could complete the process, the instructor suddenly leaped toward me, closing the distance at an alarming speed.

Movement Technique: Wind Kingdom (4☆)

1st Stage: Territory Formation

In a blur, I shifted behind the instructor on his right, seamlessly continuing my previous motion to activate my armor.

Breathing Technique: Tempest Flow (4☆)

2nd Stage: Wind Acceleration

Mana Armis: Left Foot + Hand + Right Shoulder + Head — 2nd Form Condensation

The armor flickered to life, surrounding key points of my body with a concentrated aetheric sheen. When I glanced back, I saw the instructor already two meters away, closing in with terrifying precision.

I quickly formed another territory, this time veering hard to the right, forcing him to adjust his trajectory. His relentless pursuit continued, but the slight hesitation gave me the window I needed. I raised my bow, channeling aether into the arrow as I nocked it.

Archery Technique: Tornado Archery (4☆)

1st Stage: Guided Arrow

The arrow gleamed faintly, infused with a swirling current of wind-aether. I released it, aiming for the perfect angle to disrupt his momentum. As expected, he handled it with ease, intercepting the arrow with a sharp motion that left a temporary blind spot.

Using this opening, I formed another territory, this time propelling myself above him. As I reached my vantage point, I nocked a second arrow, this one without aether, and released it immediately.

The instructor's response was instantaneous. His gloved fist met the arrow mid-flight, shattering it into splinters, while his other hand lashed out toward me in a swift counterattack.

Realizing I wouldn't have enough time to land and form another territory to evade him, I improvised. Twisting mid-air, I performed a flip, bringing my left foot down in a calculated strike against his incoming hand.

What the hell? Why does my foot hurt?!

The impact jolted through my leg, the force behind his hand far greater than I anticipated. But the maneuver served its purpose—it pushed me back, creating enough distance to recover.

Gritting my teeth through the ache in my foot, I landed lightly and immediately began charging another arrow with aether, preparing for the next phase of the battle.

This time, the instructor's response was delayed, his left hand momentarily buried in the floor—a surface weaker than the reinforced walls surrounding us. Taking advantage of the pause, I channeled aether into my arrow, infusing it with enough power to create a more significant impact. I could see in his stance that he was already preparing his next move.

As expected, he lunged at me again. But this time, his left hand extended only halfway before releasing something from his fist—a stone propelled at high speed. I barely managed to sidestep to the right, just enough to keep him within my line of sight. Yet as I did, I noticed his right fist hurtling toward me, a fraction of a second from impact.

Movement Technique: Wind Kingdom (4☆)

2nd Stage: Illusionary Redirection

In an instant, I split into two: one figure darting left and the other veering right. His fist instinctively tracked the left figure, only to dissipate into the wind as it made contact. Meanwhile, I had already repositioned myself, planting my feet firmly against the wall on my right.

Archery Technique: Tornado Archery (4☆)

2nd Stage: Wind Slash

I released the arrow, its trajectory aimed initially at the instructor's torso. He moved to intercept, his focus unwavering. Yet, as the arrow reached the halfway point, its course subtly shifted, veering more toward his right side, brushing close but not directly at him.

He dismissed it as harmless, a clear miscalculation. As the arrow passed near his shoulder, the aether within it activated, forming a wind blade that materialized in an instant, ready to slash through his arm.

Stop.

The instructor's voice rang out, sharp and authoritative. At that moment, the armor on his right arm flared to life, solidifying just as the wind blade struck. The blade disintegrated upon impact, unraveling harmlessly into the surrounding air.

He stood unmoved, his gaze locked on me. Even after all my efforts, he had deflected my attack without breaking a sweat, a testament to his skill and experience.