Let's get set up

Luke had heard correctly—he had passed. It wasn't a surprise, but there was still a sense of relief. Despite having concealed most of his strength throughout the spar, Luke couldn't shake the feeling that even at full power, he might not have been able to truly challenge the senior knights. Their skill and experience were leagues ahead, leaving Luke with a newfound respect for the academy's top warriors.

As the afternoon wore on, the entrance exam finally came to an end. Luke reflected on the grueling process, noting that it had only taken so long because of the sheer number of participants. The senior knights, however, looked completely unfazed—still standing tall and composed as if the entire ordeal had been nothing more than a warm-up.

They didn't even break a sweat, Luke thought. He marveled at their stamina and discipline. Not once had they rested, despite facing candidate after candidate.

Some participants, too stubborn to concede defeat, had pushed beyond their limits even after being disarmed. Those who refused to yield faced harsher consequences, sustaining severe injuries. Even the academy's priests, renowned for their healing abilities, couldn't erase the scars left behind—physical reminders of their defiance.

By late afternoon, only fifty participants, including Luke, remained standing in neat rows in front of the stage. The air was thick with a mixture of exhaustion, anticipation, and quiet satisfaction. These were the survivors—the ones who had earned a place at the prestigious Knight Academy.

"Wonderful! That went well!" Instructor Andrew's voice boomed from the stage, his energy undiminished by the long day. "Let's give a round of applause for the completion of the Entrance Exam!"

Silence. Not a single candidate clapped. Most were too tired or still processing what had just happened. The awkward pause hung in the air.

Andrew sighed theatrically, shaking his head. "No fun," he muttered before refocusing. "Alright then, let's get you all set up!"

The instructor's tone shifted to a more practical one as he began explaining what lay ahead. "Each of you will be assigned a dorm and will be subjected to five classes a day for the next four years. Your fifth and final year? That one's special—something to look forward to. So, in total, you'll be stuck with me for five years, with visits home allowed only once every two years."

Andrew mumbled to himself, loud enough for the front rows to hear, "At least I won't have to listen to the chairman's inspiring speeches more often than that."

The candidates in the front exchanged glances but said nothing, amused by Andrew's candidness.

Clearing his throat, Andrew continued, "You'll be escorted by your second-year seniors. Feel free to ask them any questions along the way. They're here to guide you."

Just as it seemed he was wrapping up, Andrew's voice took on a more serious tone. "Oh, and one more thing—listen carefully." His gaze swept over the newly accepted students, his eyes narrowing. "You are required to participate in at least eight arena battles per month. No fighting outside the arena. Anyone caught violating this rule will be dealt with—severely."

A cold edge had crept into Andrew's voice, and the candidates immediately sensed the gravity of his warning. The arena was where strength was tested, and discipline enforced. There would be no room for recklessness.

With that, Andrew stepped back, leaving the second-year seniors to take charge of the new recruits. Luke, along with the other fifty successful candidates, prepared to follow their new mentors, already feeling the weight of what lay ahead. The road to becoming a knight had only just begun, and the real challenges were yet to come.