The sun hung lower in the sky, painting long golden streaks across the arena.
Dust floated in the air, stirred up by the clashing of students in the ring.
By now, the matches had shifted noticeably.
Gone were the shaky, awkward duels between new cultivators.
Those who remained were different — sharper, faster, dangerous.
The real talents were stepping forward.
A tall boy from Class A, Kaelen, stepped onto the dueling platform.
His expression was cold, almost bored, as he faced his opponent — a confident girl from Class B.
The match began with a burst of spiritual energy.
Before most students could even react, Kaelen moved — a flicker of motion, fast and deadly.
With one precise strike to the chest, he sent his opponent stumbling back, gasping for breath.
The crowd gasped in unison.
"Did you see that?!" someone whispered.
"How is he that fast?"
Even Arin, standing beside Sera and Derrin, found his eyes narrowing slightly.
Kaelen's movement wasn't just fast — it was refined, controlled.
There were no wasted steps, no unnecessary gestures.
Beside him, Derrin muttered, "He's like a snake. A really scary snake."
Sera gave a small nod, her arms crossed thoughtfully.
Next, a delicate-looking girl from Class B named Yula entered the ring.
Her opponent — a bulky boy from Class C — smirked openly, clearly underestimating her.
The match started.
Yula raised a single hand, and the air around her shimmered faintly.
With a tiny push of her palm, a burst of spiritual pressure erupted.
Her opponent staggered back, struggling to keep his footing — but before he could recover, she sent another sharp, controlled wave that knocked him clean out of the ring.
The watching students erupted into stunned murmurs.
"That small girl did that?"
"She barely even moved!"
Arin watched carefully, committing everything to memory.
Raw power was important, but so was control.
And Yula's control was frightening.
High above, seated on the school's elevated pavilion, the principal watched in silence.
He was a tall man, wearing simple dark blue robes, with silver hair tied neatly at the back of his head.
His sharp eyes missed nothing.
Beside him, several elders stood or sat, their expressions serious.
One of them — Elder Maren — leaned closer.
"A few of them... not bad," he said quietly.
The principal gave a small nod, his gaze never leaving the arena.
"Expected," he replied calmly.
"But the ones we truly seek have not yet shown their full hand."
Maren chuckled under his breath.
"The Special Class already has monsters, Principal. Are you looking for more?"
The principal's lips curved into a slight smile.
"We are always looking for more."
Down below, the matches continued.
Another surprise unfolded when a boy from Class C defeated a Class B student.
His movements were wild, unpolished — but they were effective.
Arin found himself slightly impressed.
Not all talent looked clean or refined.
Sometimes, raw instinct and willpower could carry a person farther than pure technique.
Beside him, Derrin shoved a handful of dried meat into his mouth and mumbled, "Whew... reminds me of me."
Sera raised an eyebrow.
"You don't even move that fast when running for food."
Derrin patted his round stomach proudly.
"That's because I'm saving my strength for when it really matters."
Despite the laughter, the tension in the courtyard continued to build.
The weak had been weeded out.
Now, only the strong remained.
Arin felt the weight of the atmosphere pressing down on him — not in fear, but in anticipation.
The spiritual energy inside him hummed, steadier and stronger than before.
He could almost feel the subtle pulsing of power from the students who had already broken through to the first level.
This was just the beginning.
The road ahead would be long — filled with challenges, rivalries, victories, and defeats.
And he would walk that path with his friends by his side.
No shortcuts.
No easy wins.
Just growth, one step at a time.