Chapter 62: Short temper of a small man

It was finally time for the school year to start, and the excitement was through the roof. The children in Year One couldn't wait to explore all the wonders of the Academy, and everyone in Year Three couldn't wait to prove themselves.

From today onwards the easy part of their academic lives was over. Now they had to prove they were worthy of the privilege of being students here. And their first test was going to begin in fifteen minutes.

"So what's new with you guys?" Ciaran asked his friends, not one bit worried about any of it.

The only thing he was worried about was that his friends had all outgrown him. Rayon was given. The boy had been at Rank One for a while now, and that tended to accelerate the growth of a person by a significant margin. The boy stood at one meter and sixty-four centimeters (5, 2 feet) which was more than a head taller than his brother.

If that was all Ciaran would stomach it, but the boy had the nerve to also start growing facial hair. He was also starting to show signs of puberty, and soon he would leave them in the dust.

Clara was less showy than him but she was also a bit taller than Ciaran, standing at one meter forty-nine centimeters (4,10 feet). She had decided to let her hair grow a little, and now it reached all the way to her shoulders. Even if she wasn't showing any signs of maturing, the boy knew she would start soon.

Only Sunny stayed loyal to him as they were more or less comparable in size. Both of them stood at one meter thirty centimeters (4,3 feet). He was glad there was at least one person who didn't forget about him and didn't leave him behind in the race called Youth.

"I finally caught up to Ray, how about you shorty?" Clara said as she let out an aura of a Rank One.

Ciaran was about to protest, but then Sunny cut him off with just one word 'Same' and she also let out her aura. Now Ciaran was left out as the only member of the gang who was still at Rank Zero.

"Well, I learned to cock chicken, and how to fry eggs. " He said and looked down at the uncultured.

One part of his statement was to show off without revealing he was a Novice. That part had to remain a secret, and another was that he truly viewed his cocking skills as one of his premium features. After having subjected himself to eating raw meat, the boy quickly learned that there were more essential skills than those used to punch someone in the face more efficiently.

The banter continued before the teachers of every class came and collected their students. Everyone except Year Three went to their classrooms. The ones who stayed were headed behind the Academy, to an open field.

The kids were going to compete for an opportunity to go to the second floor of the Library. There were two known ways to qualify. One was to take an exam and show your knowledge, and the other was to beat up the competition and show off your martial prowess.

Naturally, most students opted for the second option. Most children had gone to a summer camp where their instructors pushed them until they were ready to take the procedure. As a result, almost every child was at Rank Zero.

Ciaran didn't like the fact they were catching up, but he wasn't too worried about it. He was leagues in front of them when it came to actual power, it was just that he had to compete with two hands behind his back.

Without magic and Ariadne, his overall power dropped to less than one-third. His worst nightmare was if he had to fight Clara. Being beaten by Ray was one thing, but losing to Clara was a whole different ballgame. She would never shut up about it, and her gloating might hurt more than his mentor's fists.

"Alright, settle down all of you. I would like to congratulate you, our class is by far the most prepared for the upcoming tests. We have three Rank Ones, and I believe the rest of you are no pushovers either. Do your best and make me proud. "Mrs. Elizabeth Parker said.

She had never given a speech to Third Years before, so she was a little stiff, but the children were too excited to notice.

The first round was starting. Ciaran's opponent was a boy with black hair. Ciaran didn't even bother analyzing his opponent. The other kid had taken the standard military stance. The feet are shoulder-width apart, with one foot slightly forward and the other foot turned slightly outward. The knees are bent, but not deeply, and the weight is distributed evenly between both feet. The hands are held up in front of the body, with the elbows close to the sides and the fists held in a position ready to strike or block.

It was practical and efficient. It didn't focus on anything and was very versatile. It was also extremely easy to read through, especially in the hands of someone so inexperienced. The black-haired boy circled his opponent, trying to find an opening. Ciaran showed him several, and when the other boy tried to exploit them, Ciaran used his own momentum to trip him and send him to the ground.

Then he just kicked him in the ribs until the teachers told him to stop.

The boy had learned to act normal in a calm environment, but in a fight, he reverted back to the savage that came back from the mountain.

The medics were busy treating the kid, but his teacher was ready to give him a piece of her mind.

"Why did you kick him like that? You seriously hurt him. You could have won even if you went easy on him." She was angry. The year just started and this brat was already making trouble.

"And why would I do that? It's called the martial path because it is prone to violence. If they can't even take a little beating, they should go and study. The sooner they learn, the better. Or do you want them to pick a fight outside your area of protection, where the medics would take their sweet-ass time to show up?" He retorted, the savagery still in his eyes.

She wanted to argue, but seeing how her colleagues were agreeing with the boy, she felt sick to her stomach. This was precisely why she had stayed as a teacher only to the youngest of children. They were annoying sometimes, but largely innocent.

With his match done, and his teacher's lecture over before it began, he was free to observe how his friends fought.

Sunny, as always was the worst. She could have ended the match already, but she liked to slowly inflict small damage on her opponent. With their Ranks not being disclosed the other kid thought he had her where he wanted her.

'She is getting tired. Soon, victory will be mine.' The thoughts going around his head were running along that line.

Ciaran didn't really enjoy the show for long. He was getting kind of angry actually. No one lectured her on ethics even though what she was doing was arguably worse in his eyes.

"At least I don't give them false hope." He grumbled.

Clara waited exactly five minutes before knocking her opponent down with sheer speed. She had a

Light element, and the speed she demonstrated was nothing short of monstrous.

Ciaran prayed to all the Gods, and some of the more generous demons to spare him the fate of an ass-kicking via Clara.

To his surprise, Rayon actually had some trouble. His opponent was a very small girl, shorter and skinnier than Sunny even. She wasn't too weak, but if Rayon wanted he could have won faster than even his brother. The problem stemmed from the fact that the boy just couldn't bring himself to hit such a delicate creature.

All he did was block, parry, and occasionally dodge. Fifteen minutes in and the girl was too exhausted to continue, so Rayon won by default.

Rayon was very happy with his victory, but his brother was waiting for him with a frown on his face.

"Never do that again Ray. I know you didn't want to hurt her, I understand that much, but you need to be a little more self-aware. Of the four of us, you probably hurt your opponent the most. What you did was essentially tell her that she isn't worth your response." Ciaran worded it like that because if he told the big boy that mercy like that could get him in trouble one day, it would go in one ear and through the other.

Rayon was strong, and even though he was largely a humble kid, he tended to think himself invulnerable to his peers. He would never fight back for real, not even against his friends.