Two weeks after the first breakthroughs, the academy grounds buzzed with restless energy.
Today was the day.
The duels — the preliminary assessment for those who had reached Level 1 — would begin at noon.
Arin woke early that morning, feeling the changes in his body more clearly than ever.
The spiritual energy inside him was steady now, no longer a wild current but a calm river flowing through his veins.
His movements felt lighter, his senses sharper.
He dressed simply, tying his academy robe tight at the waist, and stepped outside into the clear, cool morning air.
By midmorning, the open training grounds were crowded.
A temporary stage had been set up — a wide circular platform reinforced with layers of spiritual stone to withstand the force of the battles.
Rows of stone benches surrounded the arena, already filling with curious students from all classes, eager to watch the first real display of cultivation power.
Those who had broken through — about thirty-five students out of nearly two hundred — gathered together in one area, each wearing a silver sash across their chest to mark them as participants.
Arin spotted familiar faces among them.
Sera stood off to the side, arms folded, her gaze calm and collected as always.
There were others too — heirs of noble families, talented children whose names were whispered with admiration and envy.
But the face that made Arin smile was a little different.
"Arin! Over here!"
A cheerful shout broke through the rising noise.
Arin turned to see Derrin, his round, cheerful friend, waving energetically from the participant area.
Like Arin, Derrin wore a silver sash tied proudly across his broad chest.
The sight was almost comical — Derrin's robes stretched tight across his belly, his cheeks glowing red with excitement — but there was real pride in his eyes.
"Can you believe it?" Derrin called, grinning so wide his eyes nearly disappeared.
"They said fat floats, but today, I'm flying high!"
Arin chuckled, shaking his head.
He hadn't expected Derrin to break through so quickly — but then again, Derrin always had surprising hidden depths.
Some students nearby snickered, others shot curious or skeptical glances.
Few had taken Derrin seriously before.
They would learn soon enough.
The instructors stood near the stage, checking lists and discussing matchups in low voices.
Above them all, from the balcony of the main tower, Principal Eston and Elder Varrin observed silently.
The Principal's sharp gaze swept over the crowd, noting the small group of silver-sashed students standing apart from the hundreds of spectators.
"They are few," he murmured, "but better a handful of steel than a mountain of sand."
Elder Varrin nodded, eyes scanning the participants carefully.
Hidden among them were those who might one day reshape the academy's future — if they survived.
The sun climbed higher, casting sharp shadows across the stone arena.
The buzz of conversation grew louder — excitement, nervousness, ambition — thick in the air.
Students pointed, whispered, compared favorites.
Some placed friendly bets.
Others simply watched with wide, admiring eyes.
This was the beginning of something real.
Not lessons, not theories — but power.
And power demanded proof.
Arin closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.
The spiritual energy inside him stirred, responding to his will.
He felt calm. Steady.
Next to him, Derrin bounced slightly on his feet, muttering, "First round, first round... hope I don't trip over my own robe."
Arin opened his eyes and smiled faintly.
Whatever came, he was ready.
The bell rang out — deep, resonant, shaking the stones underfoot.
A tall instructor stepped forward to the edge of the platform and raised his voice.
"All Level 1 students, prepare yourselves! Match lists will be posted in moments!"
The first duels were about to begin.