As the golden rays of dawn washed over the open training fields, more than a hundred students began gathering in tightly packed clusters, their hushed whispers weaving through the morning air like rising mist.
"Did you hear?"
"About Jabari and Gichinga? How could I not."
"Do you think he'll actually show?"
"He said he would."
"Yeah, well, who can believe a word from someone so shameless?"
"True. Even if he is a seeded student, there's no way he's caught up to Gichinga in just six months. Malia hasn't even caught up, and she's being trained by an actual Elder."
Gossip had spread like wildfire. The upcoming battle between Jabari and Gichinga was all anyone could talk about, and the anticipation was so great that even the institute's top talents had gathered to witness the spectacle. Among them sat Azurian, now a Beast-Warrior of the Water Path after the second assessment; Danso, who had claimed the Fire Path after the third; and Chantelle, who had reached the Wind Path only last month. August was with them as well – silent as ever.
"Who do you think will win?" Danso asked casually, scanning the sea of students crowding the field. "If he even shows up, that is."
"What kind of stupid question is that?" Chantelle snorted. "Obviously, Gichinga will win."
"Your answer comes from a place of bias," Azurian said flatly.
"So what?" Chantelle shot him a glare. "Are you saying that shameless punk stands a chance?"
Azurian gave no reply, but his silence spoke volumes.
The sentiment echoed through the gathered students. No one believed Jabari stood even a sliver of a chance. A slum rat trying to face off against the young master of a powerful tribe, someone who'd received elite training since he could walk? It was laughable. And that didn't even include the ever-present doubt surrounding the mysterious foreign mentor Jabari had chosen.
"Even if he doesn't win, I still want to see how much he's improved," Danso added, his voice thoughtful.
"Jabari won't lose," August stated flatly.
The others turned to him, stunned. It was rare enough for August to speak – rarer still to offer an opinion.
The silence was broken by a collective gasp that rippled through the crowd like a thunderclap. Heads turned in unison toward the entrance.
Walking across the field was a strikingly handsome teen, his sharp, clean-cut fade glinting in the light. He stood at about 5'5", a sabre sheathed at his hip, and a cold, almost regal air surrounded him.
There was something magnetic about his presence – something that made students stop and stare, and more than a few girls blushed just from catching his gaze.
"Jamal!" Chantelle called out, clearly pleased.
"Well, now we just need Jabari," Danso muttered with a smirk, "and the entire lineup of seeded students will be reunited."
Jamal scanned the group of Beast-Warriors seated before him, his gaze briefly lingering on August. But August didn't return the look – his eyes were still fixed on the field's entrance, as though waiting for something far more important than Jamal's arrival.
The slight was not missed. Jamal's gaze hardened for a heartbeat before he replaced it with a warm smile as he turned to Chantelle.
"Sis," he said gently, "I'm sorry I haven't seen you at all this month."
"Don't worry," Chantelle replied with a shrug. "Your training comes first. I'm just surprised you even came for something as minor as this."
"Teacher Diallo said rest is just as important as training. He brought me here himself to watch the fun."
"Wait-" Danso's eyes widened. "You mean the Supreme Elder is here too?"
As if on cue, their heads turned toward the Elders' section. And there, seated at the centre, was none other than the Supreme Elder himself. Though he said nothing, the gravity of his presence drew every gaze toward him like iron to a lodestone.
Even amidst the sea of Elders and deacons, he was unmistakably the focal point.
"So, what brings our honourable Supreme Elder to such an irrelevant event?" Grand Elder Nala asked dryly, her words dripping with sarcasm as she glanced sideways at the man seated beside her.
"As Supreme Elder, it's my responsibility to ensure each student is reaching their full potential – especially the seeded ones," Diallo replied, unbothered. "If a seeded student can't demonstrate that they're worthy of the title, then they should be stripped of it."
"You wish to strip the boy of his status?" Nala asked, voicing the shock that rippled silently through the other Elders present.
It wasn't against the rules. Technically, as Supreme Elder, Diallo had every right to revoke a student's seeded status. But in the entire history of the Western Branch, no Supreme Elder had ever dared to do such a thing.
"Only if he fails to demonstrate adequate growth," Diallo answered, his voice void of emotion, as if what he said was merely administrative protocol.
"I wonder what they're discussing," Danso murmured, noticing the shifting expressions among the Elders.
"Who knows," Jamal replied, a sly smile tugging at his lips.
Chantelle narrowed her eyes at him. "You know something, don't you?"
"He's here," August muttered.
The others turned to him in surprise, but August's gaze didn't move. His eyes were locked on the entrance to the field.
Following his line of sight, the students gasped once more. Striding across the grounds was a young teen with a large afro, his glaive resting over his shoulder. Beside him walked a tall, devilishly handsome man with glowing crimson eyes – Aziz.
As they reached the front of the class, the pair paused. It looked like they were about to part ways when Aziz caught the subtle tension in Jabari's shoulders and the attempt at composure etched across his face.
"I was just about to wish you good luck," Aziz said, flashing a teasing grin, "but it'd be hilarious if you failed so publicly, don't you think?"
"Does anything positive ever come out of that vulgar mouth of yours?" Jabari asked, rolling his eyes, clearly unfazed by the jab.
"Vulgar? How many times must I remind you to show respect to your elders, you cheeky brat!"
"I'll show you all the respect in the world when you learn a thing or two about tact, you shitty old fart!"
The two continued bickering without a care for their audience, as if they were alone in their own world. Around them, students, Deacons, and even the Elders watched with wide eyes and slack jaws, utterly speechless.
"Alright, alright," Aziz chuckled, waving Jabari away. "Give me your weapon and get going already. You've got an assessment to flop."
Jabari handed over his glaive without another word; his annoyance faded into amusement. As he turned to walk toward Malia and Chidi – his fellow seeded students yet to become Beast-Warriors – he suddenly felt a large hand ruffle his hair.
"Crush it today," Aziz said, his voice quiet but full of conviction.
Jabari didn't reply, but his clenched fists and the unyielding look in his eyes said everything:'I won't let you down.'
As Jabari and Aziz took their respective places – one among his peers, the other beside the Elders – Supreme Elder Diallo stood and slowly stepped to the centre stage.
"Welcome, students, to the sixth monthly assessment."
A hush swept across the field.
"As most of you know, these assessments are not just for you to measure your own progress, but for the institute's leadership to gauge how best to guide your training. With that said…
It has come to my attention that one of our seeded students believes these assessments are beneath him."
A quiet wave of shock passed through the crowd.
Diallo's cold, piercing gaze landed on Jabari.
"Jabari, step forward."
Jabari inhaled slowly, fighting the urge to curse this petty old goat in front of everyone. Still, he obeyed, stepping forward under the sharp gazes of his classmates and peers.
"Several Deacons have voiced their concerns about your 'mentor's' ability to properly train a Beast-Warrior," Diallo stated, his tone flat but laced with venom. "They've explained that they urged you to participate in the earlier assessments to ensure you were progressing properly. But you ignored their counsel. Is this true?"
"That's correct," Jabari said without a flicker of hesitation.
His curt, direct response caused murmurs to ripple through the field.
He hadn't even tried to defend himself. He didn't justify his mentor or his choice. He had essentially just told everyone that the opinions of the Deacons meant nothing to him.
And the silence that followed was deafening.
Diallo's eyes narrowed into sharp slits. "Since you feel qualified to ignore the Deacons – each of whom has stood where you now stand – you will now prove your ability. If you fail, your status as a seeded student will be revoked. Any questions?"
A collective gasp swept through the students like a cold wind.
Though stunned, many couldn't stop the twisted smiles tugging at their lips. The idea of watching Jabari, the defiant slum rat who dared to walk his own path, publicly humiliated was far too tempting.
No one looked more gleeful than Gichinga, who stood front and centre, visibly struggling to contain his laughter.
Jabari, however, appeared entirely unbothered. He met the Supreme Elder's cold gaze with casual detachment.
"What are the scores I need to pass this little assessment?" he asked, his voice as calm as still water, but the way he said "little assessment" made Diallo's eye twitch.
The Supreme Elder's tone turned glacial. "You will need at least one five-star score, two four-star scores, and the remaining tests must be no lower than three stars. On top of that, you must last at least three minutes in the challenge battle."
A wave of murmurs spread through the students again – those were elite-tier requirements, typically expected only from top-seeded students of powerful lineages.
"And since this challenge is between you and student Gichinga Omondi, he will be allowed to take the assessment alongside the remaining seeded students who've yet to become Beast-Warriors," Diallo continued with smug finality. "Surely that's not too much to ask…
Not after six months of training under the mentor you were so adamant about choosing."
A few Elders shifted uncomfortably, their brows furrowed at the Supreme Elder's pettiness. It was clear to anyone paying attention that this had become personal.
Nala looked like she was about to object, but Aziz raised a hand calmly to stop her.
"If that brat can't do at least this much," he said casually, "he really doesn't deserve to be my apprentice."
Nala frowned. She wanted to remind Aziz that these standards were reserved for children raised in elite clans with generations of resources – not for someone who'd grown up starving in the slums. But when she saw the confidence glimmering in Aziz's crimson eyes, she hesitated.
"I hope Little Gus was right," she murmured, "and you really do manage to shock us all today."
"You knew, didn't you?" Chantelle whispered, turning to her brother.
Jamal gave her an apologetic smile. "Teacher told me not to say anything."
"I definitely didn't see that coming," Danso said, still recovering from the announcement. He turned to August. "You seemed confident in him before. How about now?"
August didn't look away from Jabari, who stood tall despite the looming weight of expectations. He thought back to their long mornings training in silence, the quiet determination that never wavered.
"Jabari won't lose."
He couldn't explain why – he hadn't even seen Jabari fight. But something in his gut, that unshakable instinct honed by countless hours of brutal training, told him it was true.
"You really are an oversized idiot," Chantelle scoffed, arms crossed. "How could you possibly believe that some trash from the slums could ever meet those standards after just six months?"
August glanced at her and looked away again without saying a word. Her opinion didn't matter.
Meanwhile, on the field, Jabari lifted his chin and met the Supreme Elder's imposing gaze without flinching.
"I understand," he said simply. His voice didn't waver, not even slightly.
Then, without waiting to be dismissed, Jabari turned his back on Diallo and walked away – coolly, confidently – returning to his place among the other seeded students.
Diallo's eyes narrowed further, his jaw tightening. He couldn't act on the insult. He had already pushed the limits of what was acceptable in front of the Elders. One more slip, and his own authority might be questioned.
'Let's see if you can keep up this little performance after today,' he thought darkly.
He gave the subtlest of nods toward one of the nearby Deacons.
The sixth monthly assessment was officially underway.
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