Test

Disappointed by his failure in the mana sensitivity test, Ragnar focused his attention on the upcoming physique test, the final chance for him to prove his worth. He couldn't deny the strangeness of his own body, a familiarity tinged with an unsettling sense of unfamiliarity.

The testing room for the physique examination was equipped with a Fibre Capsule, an apparatus designed to gauge the resilience and endurance of the applicant's body. Mr. Hartwell, the examiner overseeing the test, cut an imposing figure with his robust physique and stern demeanor.

"Good morning, everyone. I am Mr. Hartwell, in charge of this exam," he announced, his voice carrying an air of authority. "The Fibre Capsule will subject you to intense physical stimuli, stimulating your muscle nodes. My role is to ensure none of you accidentally perish in the process."

The participants exchanged nervous glances; apprehension evident in their eyes. Despite their fear, however, none wavered in their determination to prove themselves worthy of becoming warriors.

With a smirk, Mr. Hartwell reassured them, "You have nothing to fear. With me overseeing the test, the likelihood of fatalities is non-existent."

After explaining how the test was going to go, he called out the names one by one, the first participant stepped forward. He possessed an average build, with well-defined muscles focused primarily on his forearms and shoulders—a clear indication of extensive sword training. With determination etched on his face, he boldly removed his shirt and entered the Fibre Capsule, closing his eyes in preparation.

Observing the proceedings, Mr. Hartwell nodded to the officer overseeing the settings, signaling the start of the test. Initially, the participant appeared composed despite the chill of the air against his bare torso. However, it wasn't long before beads of sweat began to form on his forehead, his muscles tensing as discomfort set in.

Gritting his teeth, the participant struggled to maintain his composure as his muscles spasmed intermittently. The strain became increasingly evident, culminating in a loud grunt of pain. Reacting swiftly, Mr. Hartwell halted the test, concern evident in his expression as he moved to assist the distressed participant.

Upon exiting the Fibre Capsule, the participant staggered, his legs trembling like noodles beneath him, drained of energy from the intense test. Mr. Hartwell nodded approvingly, acknowledging the participant's efforts.

"Good job. Your potential is great. Your body grade is C," Mr. Hartwell announced, his voice carrying a note of encouragement.

The participant beamed with pride upon hearing his grade. "Thank you!" he exclaimed, bowing graciously before departing the testing area.

One by one, the remaining students underwent the test, their grades ranging from D to E, with occasional C and B grades interspersed among them.

The body grade, categorized from A to E, served as a measure of the sensitivity of the muscle nodes in the body. A higher grade indicated a greater potential for strengthening the body with mana.

When Ragnar's turn finally arrived, he approached the Fibre Capsule with confidence, opting not to remove his shirt as he entered. Mr. Hartwell raised an eyebrow at Ragnar's decision, noting the young man's lean yet robust physique even with his clothing on.

Ragnar entered the Fibre Capsule and closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the test. As the officer initiated the test, mana surged into the capsule, targeting Ragnar's muscle nodes with precision.

Focusing his entire being on the influx of energy, Ragnar allowed himself to become immersed in the sensation. At first, it was invigorating, a rush of power coursing through his veins. But soon, the intensity escalated, his body heating up as the energy surged erratically.

Despite the mounting discomfort, Ragnar gritted his teeth and persevered, refusing to succumb to the searing pain. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead as he endured the ordeal, his determination unyielding.

As the pain threshold reached its peak, Mr. Hartwell watched in disbelief. The young man's resilience surpassed anything he had witnessed before, defying the expectations of someone his age.

The intensity of the test was already at maximum output. It pushed Ragnar to his limits, but he remained steadfast, his resolve unshaken by the agony coursing through his body.

After enduring a grueling ten minutes of testing, Mr. Hartwell finally ended the examination, impressed by Ragnar's unwavering determination and resilience. Though Ragnar's legs threatened to give out beneath him, he managed to step out of the capsule, supported by Mr. Hartwell's steadying hand.

"Congratulations. Your body grade is A," Mr. Hartwell declared, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I hope to see you in my class when the academy starts."

Ragnar nodded appreciatively, a sense of accomplishment washing over him. "Thank you, professor. I will do my best," he affirmed with a determined smile.

After taking a moment to catch his breath and recover from the ordeal, Ragnar exited the testing room and made his way towards the final testing area—the arena.

Navigating through the bustling corridors of the academy, Ragnar couldn't help but be drawn towards the electrifying atmosphere emanating from the arena. The sounds of cheering and excitement echoed throughout the halls, guiding him towards his destination.

As he approached the arena, Ragnar was greeted by the sight of a packed crowd, their fervent energy palpable in the air. The stands were filled to the brim with spectators, eagerly awaiting the commencement of the final test.

In the spectator stands, parents filled the seats, their faces alive with pride and anticipation as they cheered on their children participating in the test. The air buzzed with excitement as the crowd erupted into cheers and screams, each expression a testament to the unwavering support of family and friends.

Meanwhile, Ragnar made his way towards the participant's side of the arena, finding a seat among the eager contenders awaiting their turn. Despite the intense tension in the air, Ragnar couldn't help but notice Julius's absence. He was among the last to be tested so he must still be in the previous test room, Ragnar surmised, likely amid his mana examination.

As the first participant's name echoed through the arena, a well-built young man with a sword at his waist rose to his feet, ready to face the instructor in the arena. With poised determination, he squared off against the instructor, awaiting the signal to begin.

"The rule is simple," the instructor declared, his voice carrying over the expectant silence. "You may attack me in any manner you wish. I will assess your fighting potential based on your performance."

With the ring of the bell, the student sprang into action, launching a series of strikes towards the instructor with swift precision. However, the instructor effortlessly parried each blow with graceful ease, using only his sheath as a defense. His movements were fluid and precise, resembling a mesmerizing dance as he deftly evaded each attack.

Despite the student's valiant efforts, it became apparent that the vast strength gap between them rendered his attempts futile. The instructor, a seasoned rank 2 warrior, remained unruffled and composed throughout the exchange, his superiority evident to all who watched.

With a nod of acknowledgment, the instructor halted the match as the student's exhaustion became evident. "You may take a seat," he announced, his voice carrying over the arena. "The results will be announced once all participants have completed their tests."

As the tests continued, Ragnar patiently waited his turn, mentally preparing himself for the challenge that lay ahead in the arena.

The test went on for quite a while and soon enough it was Ragnar's turn.