Somewhere deep in my chest, excitement was starting to bubble up again — that same quiet hum I'd felt when the system showed me the map.
I'd just about gotten comfortable pretending to nap when I felt someone's gaze on me again. You know that strange sixth sense that tells you you're being watched closely? Yeah — that one.
I cracked one eye open and scanned the crowd.
That's when I saw her.
A girl was walking down from the middle rows, her boots making soft clicks against the stone steps. For a second, I thought she was headed somewhere behind me, but then her eyes met mine.
Wait.
Hold on.
Is she—
I blinked, sitting up a little straighter. She's coming to me?
Yep. No mistake. She was walking straight in my direction.
She stopped right in front of me, and suddenly, I was very aware of how awake I was.
"Hey," she said.
Simple word. But somehow, the way she said it made it sound like a challenge and an invitation at once.
I looked up at her fully this time, and… yeah, I may have forgotten what words were for a second.
Plump red lips. Short, neat blue hair that framed her face just right — soft-looking, with a few strands tucked behind her ear by a little silver hairpin shaped like a tiny potion vial. Her eyes were bright, curious, and she had that kind of cuteness that made it impossible to look away for too long without feeling guilty.
Her outfit didn't help my composure either — brown shorts, dark tights with thin straps that wrapped neatly up her thighs, a fitted grey top under a black short jacket. Boots that looked built for travel. Everything about her was practical yet… dangerously flattering.
"Uh—hey," I said back, managing a smile.
Her eyes flickered to my face, then down again almost immediately. Was that a blush? Yep, definitely a blush.
Oh great. My smile did that? I wasn't sure whether to feel proud or embarrassed.
"Mind if I sit here?" she asked after a brief pause.
"Sure," I said quickly, shifting to the side and making some space. "Go ahead."
She sat down beside me, close enough that I could catch a faint whiff of something — flowers maybe, or whatever nice-smelling thing people who actually took care of their appearance used.
Her hands rested neatly on her legs, fingers tapping lightly against her thighs. She didn't say anything else. Just sat there, looking straight ahead, posture polite but a little stiff.
I waited for a second. Then another.
Nothing.
Okay… maybe she just wanted a seat?
I glanced sideways at her. Her face was calm, though the faint pink on her cheeks hadn't faded. She seemed deep in thought — or maybe pretending not to notice that I was probably overanalyzing her entire existence.
I looked away again, suppressing a small smile.
Alright then, mystery girl. You win. I'll mind my own business.
For a while, we just sat there quietly, side by side among sixty other candidates, the noise of the crowd humming around us.
It wasn't awkward exactly — just strange. Quiet in a way that made me more aware of everything else: the wind brushing past, the smell of dust, the soft sound of her boots against the stone as she shifted slightly.
Still, if she really had just come down here to sit, that was fine by me.
At least she wasn't spitting insults like the noble from earlier.
I leaned my head against my palm again, half a smile tugging at my lips.
Maybe today won't be so bad after all.
...
We sat there for a good while, the arena slowly filling up with more and more people.
At first it was just a few trickling in every few minutes — a couple of nervous-looking boys, a group of girls whispering among themselves, a handful of people who looked like they already thought they owned the place. But as time went on, the trickle turned into a steady stream.
Every so often, someone new would enter through the door on the far side, usually followed by a brief burst of chatter before they found a seat. It went on like that for what felt like forever.
The blue-haired girl beside me didn't move much. I occasionally caught her sneaking glances at me, but she didn't say a word.
Still nothing, huh? I thought, resisting the urge to cough just to break the silence.
So I stayed put, half-lounging, half-listening, while the crowd around us grew.
By the time the door finally stopped opening, there were a little over a hundred of us in total — all gathered in the stone arena with rows of tiered seats circling the central platform. It looked like the kind of place meant for duels or executions. Hopefully duels.
The air buzzed with a mix of excitement and nerves. Some people were chatting loudly, others were whispering, and a few were trying way too hard to look calm.
That's when the heavy doors at the far end of the arena opened again — but this time, it wasn't another nervous teenager who stepped in.
An older man walked in with the kind of presence that instantly quieted everyone down. His steps were steady, deliberate, his boots clicking sharply on the stone floor.
He wore a dark green coat trimmed with gold, the kind of thing that screamed noble money without even trying. A silver insignia gleamed at his chest, catching the morning light.
His hair was more grey than black, but his back was straight, his eyes sharp.
"Good morning, everyone," he said, voice calm but carrying easily across the entire space. "I am Count Hall — though within academy walls, you may call me Professor Hall, for those who make it past this selection at least. I will be overseeing this stage of the selection."
A ripple of murmurs ran through the arena. I leaned back, trying not to look as tense as I suddenly felt.
So this was the big guy.
He clasped his hands behind his back and paced slowly across the central platform, his eyes scanning us like he was already measuring our worth.
"First of all," he said, "congratulations on making it this far. You have passed the preliminary tests and have been recognized as individuals with potential."
His tone made potential sound suspiciously like barely adequate.
"This," he continued, "is the final stage of the selection. And let me be very clear—"
He paused, looking around, making sure he had everyone's full attention.
"—this part can be either the difficult part… or the more difficult part."
A few people chuckled weakly. I didn't. Something about his smile told me he wasn't joking.
He began explaining the format, voice even and steady, like a man who had done this many times before.
"This stage will take the form of a three-versus-three combat assessment. Each group will face off against five different teams. These will not be elimination matches — rather, they are designed so that we, the proctors, may observe your individual and group abilities."
The crowd started buzzing again, people exchanging glances, already sizing each other up.
Three-on-three, huh?