A horde of girls
Ash froze. His brain short-circuited.
"Uh— thanks?" he managed, smiling awkwardly.
"You're so strong," one girl said, eyes sparkling. "Are you looking for a girlfriend?"
"I don't care if you're taken!" another chimed in, smirking. "I can share."
"Can I lick your feet?" someone else said far too cheerfully.
"Can I have your baby!" another screamed out loud from somewhere, drawing everyone's attention for a second.
Ash blinked. Wait, what?
The words hung in the air like a thunderclap. The girls giggled, crowding closer. He could feel the heat of their bodies pressing in from all directions.
He tried to back away — no space. He tried to raise a hand — one of them grabbed it, clutching his fingers.
He was trapped.
A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek. "Um… ladies, maybe—"
"Excuse me, ladies!"
The sharp, irritated voice cut through the noise like a blade.
Maya.
Her expression was somewhere between anger and disbelief as she stepped forward, arms crossed. "He just got out of a fight, could you maybe not suffocate him immediately after?"
The girls blinked at her.
"B-but—"
"No buts."
Maya marched right into the crowd, grabbed Ash's arm, and yanked him out of the circle with surprising force. She locked her arm with his and gave the others a glaring look that could melt steel.
Ash barely had time to register it. "Maya, I—ah, uhm thanks."
"Don't thank me yet," she said quickly, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red.
Ash glanced down at her side profile — her face was glowing, her lips pressed tight, and she was deliberately looking anywhere but at him.
He smiled lightly, his voice soft. "Still… thanks."
"You're welcome," she muttered.
Up in the stands, Count Hall actually chuckled — a rare sound for him. Around him, a few teachers were grinning, some even pitying the poor boy's earlier plight.
"Lucky bastard," one whispered."Ladykiller already, huh?" another murmured with a smirk.
"You can imagine one of the lesser nobles trying to tie him down in the academy. A commoner young man with top tier looks and talent to boot. A recipe for disaster. Hopefully he won't be in any of my classes."
Count Hall hid his amusement behind a hand, clearing his throat before standing. "Alright, that's enough excitement for one day."
The Count's voice boomed across the arena, amplified by magic. Instantly, all chatter died down.
"In a moment, I will now announce the academy's new students," he said. "If your name is called, step forward and receive your student identifier token and uniform."
A murmur spread through the crowd. Excitement. Fear. Hope.
"The token serves as both identification and a personal storage device," he continued. "Small, by our standards — only about three cubic meters of space. Your uniform will be stored inside."
A collective gasp swept through the stands.
"Three cubic meters?!" someone whispered. "That's small?!" another hissed." And they get to keep it?!"
Ash raised an eyebrow. Three cubic meters, huh…? Not bad. He had a better storage space in the system, which was many times bigger, so he had no right to complain.
Count Hall began reading names from a parchment, his voice calm and precise.
"Elaine Mirren."
"Drake Felsworth."
"Ray Ardent."
Ray grinned broadly as his name echoed across the arena, earning cheers from his group. He stepped forward, receiving his token and bowing slightly to the Count.
"Maya Crestfield."
Maya's eyes widened slightly. She looked at Ash, who smiled at her encouragingly. She walked up, her short hair bouncing slightly as she moved, and accepted her token with both hands. Count Hall gave her a nod of approval.
"Well fought," he said simply.
"Thank you, my lord," she replied, cheeks tinged pink.
Then, the Count's voice rang out again — steady and clear.
"Ash Morales."
A hush fell. Dozens of eyes turned toward him.
Ash blinked, a bit caught off guard by the sudden sharp turning of gazes toward him. Then he smiled faintly and stepped forward.
Count Hall's gaze lingered on him longer than anyone else. "Your coordination, combat sense, and healing technique are… exceptional," he said, his tone almost admiring. "I expect to see your name rise quickly in the academy."
Ash bowed lightly. "Thank you, sir."
As he turned away, he caught sight of the opposing team — the spear girl, the archer, and their tank — each of them now being called as well.
"Sylvia Lehn, Torvin Grey, Eren Vale," the Count read out.
Each stepped forward in turn, their faces still marked with exhaustion, but proud nonetheless.
The names kept coming — around forty in total by the time he finished. Forty out of one hundred and twenty-six had come up front.
Gasps and murmurs filled the air as reality set in. The rest of them had not made it.
Count Hall rolled up his parchment. "To the rest of you," he said, voice carrying easily, "you fought well — but you fell short. Train harder. There is always next year."
No one dared to speak against him, though the disappointment was palpable. Shoulders slumped, feet shuffled, sighs filled the air.
"You are dismissed," he said finally.
Dozens began to leave, muttering among themselves.
The remaining forty, though, were practically glowing — some whispering excitedly, others hugging or jumping in place.
Count Hall raised his hand. "Don't be relieved just yet," he said, his calm tone cutting through the chatter like a whip. "The hard part begins now. Within the academy walls, competition is fierce. Dropouts and expulsions are common. If you cannot handle the pressure, you will be cast out. You will either break beneath the pressure, or use it as a whetstone to sharpen yourselves. Where you end up, it will only be a matter of time before we get to see."
That sobered everyone immediately.
He continued, "You have one week to settle your affairs. Return here within that time — show your token, and you will be led to the academy gate. Those who fail to arrive within that week will forfeit their admission. My advice — don't delay. Oh and that rumour you heard about your performance determining dorms and placement in the academy, all false. You all have the same starting line when you enter the academy, so don't let this selection get to you head."
Silence. Then, slowly, nods of understanding spread through the group.
"Now. For those wishing to depart for the academy immediately," he added, "step aside."
Less than five did — including Ray.
"Good," Count Hall said. "The rest of you may leave. Dismissed."
Ash and Maya walked side by side through the exit leading out of the arena, the noise of the dispersing crowd behind them. At some point, they both realized they were standing a but too close to each other, hands brushing awkwardly.
They blinked. Looked down. Then awkwardly stepped apart.
"Sorry," Maya said quickly, her face red again.
"No, uh— my fault," Ash said with a grin, rubbing his neck.
They exchanged a sheepish chuckle and continued walking, shoulders occasionally brushing.
"So," Ash said after a pause, "what'll you do now?"
Maya looked thoughtful. "I'm going home. To tell my parents I got in."
Ash nodded. "Good idea. I need to buy some things and sort things out at the inn. Probably head to the academy in a day or two."
They walked in silence for a few moments — comfortable, quiet. The late sun bathed the street in gold, long shadows stretching before them. Maya fidgeted awkwardly as she walked, pressing the fingers on each of her hands together as if in thought.
Then Maya suddenly turned to him, eyes bright. "Hey… how about you come have dinner at my house?"
Ash blinked. "Dinner? At your place?"
She nodded eagerly. "You haven't eaten since morning, right? I owe you at least that much for saving me back there."
As if on cue, his stomach growled. Loudly.
Maya laughed. "See? That settles it."
He chuckled, scratching his cheek. "Alright, you win."
They turned down a paved street leading toward the uptown district. The buildings grew grander, cleaner, the air filled with the faint scent of blooming flowers.
They talked easily as they walked — small things, funny things, things about the fight and the people they'd met. The kind of talk that flowed naturally between two people who'd shared something intense together.
Before long, they stopped in front of a large, elegant mansion surrounded by a tall wrought-iron fence and a wide courtyard filled with trimmed hedges and glowing lanterns.
Ash's eyes widened. "Wow… this is your house?"
Maya smiled shyly. "Welcome."
A servant by the gate noticed them, hurrying over to open it. "Welcome home, my lady," he said with a bow. Then, glancing at Ash, added politely, "And welcome, honored guest."
Ash blinked, stepping inside as the gate closed softly behind them.
The evening light caught the polished stone of the mansion walls, making them gleam faintly gold. For a moment, Ash felt a strange warmth — anticipation mixed with curiosity.
He turned to Maya, who gave him a small smile.
"Come on," she said. "Let's go inside."
They stepped through the grand double doors.