Instructor Rock nodded to the next in line. "Next, we have Syf of Aegis Rose."
"Show 'em' what you've got kid."
Hearing his name being called, Syf gave a courteous nod towards Instructor Rock. With a calm but resolute expression, he approached the plate, his gaze sharp and unwavering. The air around him seemed to hum with energy as he centered himself.
"...so his name is Syf of Aegis Rose?" River quietly remarked, with a small smirk growing on his face. 'Let's see what type of ability you've got.'
Slowly, as Syf dropped into a stance, faint rune-like patterns flickered to life around him, floating in the air like drifting embers. But just as quickly as they appeared, they flowed seamlessly into his clothes, vanishing from sight. Then, in an instant, his fist shot forward, the movement fluid and precise. As his punch connected, the machine hummed louder than before, the numbers flashing across the screen in bold red: 23.
The room went quiet in stunned awe. Twenty-three. It was beyond impressive–it was almost unheard of. Yet, Syf barely acknowledged the awed whispers around him. His eyes weren't on the score at all; they flicked past the flashing numbers with barely a reaction, a brief flicker of disappointment crossing his face. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a mask of indifference, as if the moment hadn't affected him at all.
"I thought they were exaggerating about his potential… is it even possible for a sleeper to exert that much power?"
"Does anyone know if he has a girlfriend? Asking for a friend."
"Like he'd ever go for you…"
'Twenty-three… who the hell is this guy?' River was a bit surprised at Syf's display of strength. But at the same time, River could care less about his score, focusing more so on the runes in front of him.
Aspect Ability: [Infusion]
Aspect Ability Description: [Your will carries the force of a storm, shaping the world around it. If you infuse a strong enough will into an item, it may grant it temporary magical enhancements.]
'Oh great, so he just thinks really hard, and things improve? Wish life worked that way for the rest of us.' River could feel envy slowly creeping in through his veins, annoyed that some people really just had it all. River's gaze lingered on Syf, a cold thought creeping into his mind.
'It would be so easy. Just one move, one mistake from him... and I could have it all.' He clenched his fists, pushing the thought away, but the idea was already there. The possibility flickering in the back of his mind was tempting and dangerous.
He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to focus. The test wasn't over yet.
Finally, it was Tongue Ripper's turn. Instructor Rock gave a low grunt, gesturing lazily. "And now, Tongue Ripper."
'Finally, let's see if you're truly as dangerous as you pretend to be…" River thought, staring at him, not intending to miss a single detail.
The attention in the room shifted. A few murmurs of "Here we go..." could be heard.
Tongue Ripper swaggered up to the plate, cracking his neck with a sharp pop. For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. Then, crouching slightly, he bared his teeth and exhaled sharply, the sound low and rough.
And then, with a sudden, brutal motion, he slammed his fist into the plate. The impact wasn't clean or controlled—it was raw, vicious. A strike born of pure, feral instinct.
The numbers blinked up on the screen: 19.
Tongue Ripper shot a glance at Syf, his eyes narrowing slightly. There was a flicker of challenge there, something primal. He hadn't topped Syf's twenty-three, but it didn't seem to matter to him. If anything, it only seemed to stir something inside him, like the flicker of a predator sizing up a rival.
"Nineteen? That's crazy…"
"Damn, I thought for sure he'd top Syf."
"I told you he wouldn't, now pay up."
The crowd shifted, a mix of awe and unease rippling through them. Whispers turned into hushed conversations, some excited, others wary. Yet, no matter how long River waited, the runes never appeared.
'He got a nineteen with just his raw strength? What the hell has he been eating?'
River scoffed, crossing his arms. 'Probably just chews on steel beams for fun.' His gaze flicked back to Tongue Ripper, watching the way he rolled his shoulders like he was still itching for a fight.
'Guess some people don't even need to use their aspect ability to make a statement.'
With the final strength test finishing, Instructor Rock smiled slightly at the display before continuing.
"Not bad. Now, we'll move on to sparring to assess your overall combat training. I need two volunteers to step up."
A brief silence hung in the air before Earl of Oak took a step forward, his face filled with a mix of determination and nonchalance. Shortly after him, another sleeper walked towards the ring with a bit of hesitation on his face. He was a bit shorter than Earl, with a lean, wiry build that suggested agility over raw strength. His skin was pale, and his features were sharp with dark, attentive eyes that scanned the room. His hair was dark and cut short, giving him a somewhat scruffy appearance.
"Guess it's his turn," River muttered under his breath, staring at Earl with annoyance.
"The rules are straightforward. Either get your opponent's back to the floor or throw them out of the ring. Feel free to use any abilities or techniques you think will get the job done."
Without wasting any time, the scruffy sleeper suddenly lunged forward, his body flickering as though he was phasing in and out of visibility. The move was disorienting, a blur of motion that made him hard to track. He aimed for Earl's midsection, hoping to phase through his defenses and land a surprise hit.
Aspect Ability: [Phase Shift]
Aspect Ability Description: [Your form is no longer bound by solid matter, allowing you to slip through objects and avoid attacks as though they were nothing in short bursts.]
'Interesting…'
But Earl of Oak was quick to react. With a swift motion, he extended his wooden arm, the bark-like texture shimmering under the light. As the scruffy sleeper tried to phase through him, Earl twisted his body, aiming for the unphased sections of his body. This allowed Earl to knock the opponent off balance due to the sheer force of his wooden limb, forcing the scruffy sleeper to stumble back, his form flickering and unstable.
Earl's eyes locked onto his opponent, and with an effortless motion, he swung his other arm, now fully transformed into a hardened oak-like limb. Before the scruffy sleeper could regain his stance, the attack connected with a thunderous crack, sending him sprawling to the ground.
The crowd gasped as the scruffy sleeper's phase shift faltered, his body solidifying again as he crashed into the ring floor. He groaned, his form barely able to move as he tried to push himself up.
Instructor Rock's voice rang out. "And that's a win for Earl of Oak!"
The scruffy sleeper shook his head in frustration, his ability too erratic and imperfect to keep up with Earl's mastery of his own power. Earl's wooden form was still unyielding and strong as ever.
River watched the fight with an exasperated sigh, his gaze flicking from Earl to the defeated opponent.
'Well, that was predictable.'
***
River felt a mix of boredom and frustration as Earl of Oak continued to dominate the ring. Each opponent that came up against him was either easily tossed out of the ring or struck down with minimal effort. There was a certain predictability to it—one that rubbed River the wrong way. He clenched his fists as another sleeper was sent flying after a brief struggle.
'This is getting ridiculous,' River thought, pushing off the wall where he'd been leaning. His gaze locked onto Earl of Oak, who stood tall and unscathed in the center of the ring.
Without waiting for anyone to announce the next round, River stepped forward, his shoes heavy on the floor. The crowd parted slightly, some murmuring as they noticed his approach. His eyes were fixed on Earl, a sharp smirk playing at the edge of his lips.
"Is he serious… no way he thinks he has a chance."
"He's just asking to have his ass handed to him."
Earl glanced over as River entered the ring, raising an eyebrow. "You sure about this?" His voice was casual, almost dismissive as if the thought of facing River wasn't worth much.
"Oh, absolutely. I've been dying to see if wooden limbs are as slow as they look." River remarked, staring down Earl.
Ignoring their bickering, Instructor Rock's voice rang out. "Alright, looks like we've got a challenger! Earl of Oak versus River!"
The tension in the air thickened as River adopted a relaxed stance, his body poised for action. He focused on Earl, watching as the wooden limbs began to stretch and shift, the bark-like texture gleaming under the lights.
River cleared his mind before focusing inward on [Glacial Veil], reaching for the deep cold that lurked beneath his skin. Then, as he exhaled, the temperature around him began to drop. A faint mist curled around his fingertips, and an invisible chill radiated outward.
The effect was immediate. The air around him grew dense, his breath visible in the sudden cold. Frost crept along the stone floor in thin, delicate veins as they began to glaze over with ice. River flexed his fingers, watching the frost coil around his hand before dissipating.
'I can handle this, just stay calm.'
Earl of Oak cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing through the room as he took a step forward. "Don't make this too easy for me, okay?"
With a sharp movement, Earl lunged toward River, his wooden arm swinging down like a battering ram. River's eyes narrowed. He didn't flinch. Instead, he tapped into his ability, focusing on Earl's wooden limbs, slowing Earl's movements just as he swung his massive arm.
But River didn't stop there. As Earl's attack faltered, River sidestepped, using his speed to close the gap and land a sharp elbow into Earl's ribs.
'Shit… that hurts.' The moment his elbow connected, a jolt of pain shot up River's arm—like slamming into a solid tree trunk. He bit back a wince, but the dull ache lingered. The impact made Earl grunt, but he quickly recovered, using his wooden arm to catch River by the shoulder and shove him back with brutal force.
River stumbled but kept his feet, a sneer of irritation crossing his face. His cold aura was making a difference, but Earl's overwhelming physicality still gave him the edge.
Earl smirked, flexing his arm. "You're faster than I thought. But not fast enough."
River gritted his teeth. He couldn't let Earl keep up with him. He needed to capitalize on the cold aura and press it harder. With a sudden push, River released a burst of freezing air, sending a sharp chill through the ring. The temperature plummeted, and Earl's movements slowed even more, his wooden limbs creaking as they struggled to maintain fluidity.
That's when River made his move. He darted in, aiming a high kick at Earl's chest, using the distraction of the cold to throw off his balance. But Earl had adapted quickly, the momentum from River's kick only to push him slightly backward before his wooden arm shot out, grabbing River's leg mid-air. With a vicious twist, Earl threw River across the ring, sending him crashing into the floor with a heavy thud.
The crowd winced at the impact, and River groaned, his body aching from the force of the throw. But he hadn't let his back hit the floor; he was still in this. Pushing himself up, his eyes narrowed. Earl was far stronger than River had anticipated. And his ability, while slowed by River's cold aura, was still too much to overcome in a one-on-one fight. But he had a plan, he had a way to win this.
As River got back to his feet, Earl was already advancing again, his wooden limbs now sharper and more rigid, taking on a more defensive stance.
But before River could do anything, Instructor Rock's voice rang through the air, cutting off any further action. "Alright, I've seen enough. Earl of Oak wins this round."
Instructor Rock's gaze briefly locked on to River, a certain flicker of doubt in his eyes, as though he had already decided the outcome before the fight even started. He let out a long, heavy sigh as if he couldn't be bothered to watch River's inevitable defeat.
"I know how this one's going to go. No need to drag it out."
River stood there, panting, irritation bubbling up inside of him. It was like he wasn't even given a chance. But he swallowed it down, maintaining a smirk. "Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night, Instructor Rock."
The crowd murmured as Earl gave River a quick, dismissive look. "Better luck next time," he said with a chuckle, looking towards the crowds of sleepers as if he was already bored of him.
"Did he even really think he could win?"
"Embarrassing…"
"At least he tried… even if he had no chance."
With one last glance toward Earl, River muttered under his breath. "This is ridiculous…"
River clenched his fists again, but this time, it wasn't the burning need to prove himself. It was something else—an undeniable frustration that lingered, that gnawed at the edges of his mind.
"This damn flaw…." River quietly muttered to himself, turning to leave the ring. But before he could get far, the crowd began to stir again, louder this time. Whispers passed like wildfire.
Tongue Ripper.
River's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Tongue Ripper swaggering toward the ring.
'Figures... the circus act finally gets his turn,' he thought, crossing his arms, his annoyance shifting to bitter amusement.
Tongue Ripper wasn't the kind of guy to leave things to chance. This fight would be different. River couldn't help but feel a little thrill as he watched the brutal powerhouse make his way to the center of the ring.
'This should be fun,' River thought, his mind already conjuring all the ways he could watch Earl fail.
As Tongue Ripper cracked his neck and glared at his opponent, River knew one thing for sure: Earl wasn't ready for him. '