The match lists were finally posted.
Students rushed toward the wooden boards, pushing and craning their necks to see the pairings.
Arin moved calmly through the crowd, his heart steady.
He scanned the sheet until he found his name.
Arin (Class A) vs. Jerek (Class C)
He didn't recognize the name.
From the murmurs around him, it seemed Jerek had just broken through days ago — a fresh Level 1 cultivator like many others.
Arin quietly memorized the name and stepped back, letting the excitement buzz around him.
The first few matches began — students stepping into the wide arena, facing off under the instructors' sharp eyes.
Some fights ended almost immediately, one side overwhelming the other with raw energy.
Others dragged on, both fighters clumsy with their new powers.
Finally, Arin's name was called.
He moved toward the arena, his steps light.
The crowd parted slightly as he passed, a few students glancing at him with curiosity.
The arena felt vast and open under the noonday sun.
Across from him stood a thin boy with short brown hair — Jerek.
The boy looked nervous but determined, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.
An instructor at the edge of the stage raised a hand.
"Both sides ready?"
Arin nodded once.
Jerek gave a stiff, jerky nod.
"Begin!"
Jerek charged immediately, shouting as he swung a fist crackling faintly with spiritual energy.
Fast — but wild.
Strength without control.
Arin sidestepped with ease, feeling the calm river of spiritual power within him guide his movements.
Another swing, desperate.
Another miss.
Arin shifted his weight lightly, moving like water, and tapped Jerek sharply on the shoulder.
The touch was light, but the spiritual energy behind it sent Jerek stumbling sideways.
Gritting his teeth, Jerek tried again, gathering energy for a stronger attack.
Arin moved in smoothly, twisted behind him, and tapped him cleanly between the shoulder blades.
Jerek fell to one knee, gasping.
Before he could rise, the instructor's voice rang out:
"Match over! Winner — Arin, Class A!"
Polite applause filled the air — not wild, but respectful.
The students recognized clean skill when they saw it.
Arin stepped down from the stage without fanfare.
From the crowd, a familiar voice broke through:
"That's my boy!"
It was Derrin, waving both arms above his head and laughing so loudly half the spectators turned to look.
"You made it look easy!"
Arin allowed himself a small smile.
It was only the beginning.
But it felt good — solid, real.
Today, he had taken his first true step on the path of cultivation.