"Noah, huh... Old friend, it is finally time for the student you have been looking forward to," Principal Angelina Olette said with a soft smile as she observed the training hall below from her vantage point.
A small figure dressed in simple black training clothes entered the vast arena. Her expression was calm and collected, showing no trace of fear or hesitation. Her steps were steady and deliberate. There was none of the nervous energy or excitement that other young dragons displayed, nor any timid restraint.
She seemed as composed as if she were heading out for a casual breakfast.
Vice Principal Wilson adjusted his monocle, his expression clearly pleased.
"The best students always go last," he remarked, never one to hold back his praise for Noah or the esteemed Melkvey family.
This scene was a testament to an age-old truth: first impressions matter. Some characters, some families, only need one glance to leave an unforgettable impression.
Olette chuckled softly, nodding in agreement before adding, "Speaking of 'last ones,' have you noticed something, old friend?"
"What is that?" Wilson asked.
"Due to Adam's unexpected disruption, we were forced to reinstate the old 'black-armored duels' for this year's exams. But next year, we will not be able to use this system anymore," Olette explained, her gaze fixed on Noah with a mix of admiration and expectation. "This means that today marks the final 'black-armored duel' in the history of Saint Heath Academy's promotion exams. And Noah is the last student to ever participate in it."
She continued, her voice taking on a solemn note. "Every clash, every exchange of blows in this match, will add to the significance of this ending. Our young dragons this year are exceptional, but none have truly dazzled me. I hope Noah can surprise us."
Listening to Olette, it was clear she held higher expectations for Noah than she had for any other student in recent memory.
Wilson narrowed his eyes, focusing on Noah, who now stood alone in the center of the arena, ready to begin her exam.
"She will. She has never disappointed anyone."
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The sound of metal boots striking the stone floor echoed sharply as the black-armored figure approached.
Stopping about ten meters away from Noah, the armor gleamed ominously under the arena's magical lights.
Noah observed her opponent silently, a hint of professional curiosity breaking through her focus.
Is this armor really just a prop? It is so intricate and beautiful.
The craftsmanship was remarkably detailed, even to her discerning eye.
"Contestants, prepare!"
The proctor raised his whistle, ready to signal the start. Noah shook off her stray thoughts, refocusing on the task at hand. She crouched slightly, her knees bent, adopting a ready stance she had practiced a thousand times.
The whistle blew, its shrill note cutting through the tense silence.
The final match began.
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.
.
The sharp sound was immediately drowned out by a piercing cry as crackling blue lightning surged around Noah's form. She shot forward like a bolt of energy, her speed blinding.
"Silver Dragon innate speed paired with lightning's explosive power... She is using it to catch her opponent off guard from the start. Impressive," one of the scoring instructors commented, making a note on his clipboard.
"Though textbook strategy suggests observing first before engaging, lightning magic's unique attributes make an aggressive, high-speed opening a viable choice," another added thoughtfully.
"Her stance feels familiar... but I cannot quite place it."
The instructors continued their quiet discussion as they noted down their evaluations, while the other black-armored figures from previous matches also watched closely from the sidelines.
"What is 9527 doing? Why is not he moving?"
"Big guy, get moving! You have got to make a move!"
"Being too obvious about going easy on her will get your pay docked, dude!"
Despite the chatter from the sidelines, both Noah and her opponent remained entirely focused, unbothered by the external noise.
Noah closed the ten-meter gap in the blink of an eye.
Just as her lightning-imbued strike was about to connect with 9527's chest plate, he finally moved.
With a simple, almost lazy sidestep, he effortlessly dodged her high-speed attack.
Before Noah could recover her balance, 9527 seized her wrist. The size difference between them was so great that his gauntleted hand easily enveloped her slender arm, overpowering the young dragon completely.
His helmet tilted slightly, his gaze shifting toward the piled sandbags along the arena's edge—a safety buffer zone to prevent students from being injured by wall collisions.
Holding Noah firmly by the wrist, 9527 spun her around once, building momentum, and hurled her into the sandbags with a calculated, controlled force.
Thud!
The impact sent several heavy sandbags tumbling and scattering across the floor.
"Whoa! Big guy, take it easy!"
"Man, going too hard is as bad as going too easy. Are you trying to get your bonus docked?"
"Did not the staff meeting say we needed to balance the difficulty? Everyone has gone through tons of practice matches—why is he still like this?"
"9527... Remember that number. Let us cut his bonus after this."
One instructor, however, shook her head. "Actually, I think this level of intensity is just right."
"Huh? Why?"
"Because that is Noah Melkvey. You do not know her like I do—she is the top student in the Young Dragons Division for a reason. This level of challenge will not crush her; it will push her to shine."
Noah let out a soft groan as she pushed the heavy sandbags off her body and slowly, deliberately, stood up.
She bent forward at the waist, her arms dangling loosely at her sides, her silver hair falling like a curtain over her face.
While the observing instructors did not notice anything unusual, 9527, standing closest to her, was surprised to sense a faint, yet unmistakable, aura of pure dragon's might beginning to radiate from the small girl.
"I am going to..." Noah's voice was a low growl.
She stepped out of the wrecked sandbag pile, her head lifting to reveal eyes now glowing with faint blue light.
"Rip you apart!"
Lightning erupted around her hands in a brilliant corona as she launched herself forward again, this time like a vengeful bullet.
Caught off guard by the sudden intensity, 9527 instinctively took half a step back.
This armor cost a fortune; do not you dare ruin it! he thought irrationally.
Before he could dwell on it, Noah's attacks came at him from two distinct angles—a double lightning strike that left no room for lateral movement.
But—
"Your attack pattern is a bit too predictable."
A low, mechanically altered male voice emerged from the helmet, the tones deliberately obscured.
Before Noah could process his words, 9527 suddenly dropped into a low squat. She could not adjust her trajectory in time.
The next moment, 9527 drove his knee upward, aimed directly for her abdomen.
"Hey, is not that a bit much?"
"Who is under that armor? Let us split his bonus next shift!"
"Big guy, lighten up, I am telling you!"
"Wait, look closely—his attack did not actually hit her."
At the very last second, 9527 had snapped his own hand between his rising knee and Noah's stomach, cushioning the impact. His knee struck his own palm with a dull thud instead of her body.
Noah, though momentarily stunned by the speed of the counter, was not hurt. She realized the protective measure as she landed gracefully several meters away, her feet skidding slightly on the stone.
She regained her footing instantly, narrowing her glowing eyes at 9527.
"Why did you call my attack predictable? I was not using any mainstream tactics taught at the academy," she asked, genuinely puzzled. The instructors outside had noted the same uniqueness, adding weight to her question.
"Using basic combination strategies and assuming they will be enough to pass? That is naive, kiddo," 9527 taunted in his distorted voice.
Despite the electronic alteration, Noah could not shake the strange sense of familiarity in his cadence and wording. The fact that he had recognized her personalized style so well suggested he was intimately familiar with her fighting habits.
Suppressing her rising suspicions, Noah refocused her energy.
"Alright, let us see how you handle this."
She raised her right hand, gathering crackling lightning for another projectile strike. As 9527 subtly shifted his weight, preparing for a repeat of her earlier moves, her left hand extended slowly, fingers splayed, and a shimmering, blade-like construct of pure energy formed in the air beside her.
A B-rank lightning spell: Lightning Blade Formation.
"Here I come!"
Noah's third charge was faster and more aggressively fluid than the last.
9527 leaned back slightly, his helmeted head tilting as he carefully tracked her movements. The combination of the lightning projectile and the energy blade opened up a multitude of attack angles, finally forcing him to take her more seriously.
"So, your plan is to use the blade to close the distance while relying on the projectile to restrict my movement, right?" he mused, almost to himself.
Seeing through her primary strategy made dodging easier, and he began planning how to counter without being overly harsh.
But his prediction failed.
The lightning blade swept forward, forcing him to evade to his right, only for her lightning strike to veer at the last moment and target the space his chest now occupied.
"She tricked me..." he realized a split second too late.
9527 twisted his body in a contortion that should have been impossible in full plate armor, narrowly avoiding the direct hit, though the attack still left a faint, smoking scorch mark on his chest plate.
This was the closest Noah had gotten to landing a solid blow so far.
As she glanced at his armor, her sharp eyes caught something unusual on the left side of his chest plate—a tiny, almost imperceptible flaw in the craftsmanship, a specific pattern she had seen a thousand times before.
Her eyes widened in sudden, absolute realization.
Oh no... she thought, a new, fierce determination settling over her. This is about to get real.