After enrolling in the Wutang Academy, a student typically had 4 years to go through its various courses before graduating from the school.
Each school year was made of two separate semesters, with some classes even finding their school year broken into three.
For every year and class, there was already a determined curriculum, assigned exercises, and a set nature of exam.
For the third-year combat class, at the end of the first month of the second semester, they all had to participate in a special evaluation.
Different from the previous evaluations where their teacher randomly pitted them against each other to take stock of their strength and score them, this one carried far more weight.
Not to say the previous evaluations were inconsequential, as they determined who was the possible scrap of the class, but this one saw the first mould for the shape of their future truly begin to form.
The students might not show it, but they knew that up at the top of the stands, in the room covered by dark glass, its occupant hidden from view, was the principal and several agents from different parties.
There were organizations and military divisions looking for diamonds in the rough, wanting to see if they could get a first pick ahead of the competition.
Aside from the prospects, one's performance during this particular evaluation would determine how many resources the school would be willing to offer them for the rest of the semester.
Resources were scarce and had to be distributed efficiently, and the academy hardly bothered to hide its favoritism for the strong.
Thirty students engaged in single one-on-one matches, those closest in strength matched against each other.
Everyone had an opportunity to make a showing; if they fumbled it, that was on them.
Some matchups might be unfair, but such was life, or so Bana and the rest of the school's administration believed.
An example was Naoi's matchup against Roy. She had been completely crushed, her strength not to be underestimated, but her foe a living terror.
After decimating the woman, taking all the glory for himself, Roy stood looking to claim another's glory, and the stern teacher accepted.
Sarah needed an opponent to show her ability. If a student could not be punctual for such an important exercise, then he deserved to be passed over.
Mrs. Stenson looked at the two students who faced each other, nodding inwardly as tension immediately sparked between them.
The condescending look in Roy's eyes was gone, and as for the princess, she had her body tight and ready to react.
"Fight."
The word was given, and as the teacher retreated, Roy slowly walked around his opponent, observing her form, a sense of relief washing through him.
Catching a glimpse of his teacher from the corner of his eyes, Roy snorted within. In his eyes, the woman was a redundant fool.
For her to think and pit him against Naoi instead of against the female across from him was a strong sign of mental illness.
When Roy thought about who had been chosen ahead of him, sparks flew within him and he sped forward.
Sarah, with strands of her blue hair showing from the side as she had covered her head with a scarf, giving herself an aura of simplicity, did not underestimate her opponent.
Tapping against the floor with her right foot, she pushed forward, meeting his charge head-on, her right leg soon colliding with his fist.
Sarah was no stocky muscular female; she was a beauty, the most beautiful of the class.
Like Naoi, she possessed a slender frame, hers seen as even more elegant given her graceful steps and superior heritage.
This, though, did not mean she was as fragile as the former.
Bam!!
The result of their first hit was quick to show, Roy's punch successfully countered.
Sarah took a step forward, coming closer to Roy, this time their fists meeting, the boy dodging a right hook she threw and retaliating with a powerful kick.
Quickly, the girl took a step back, avoiding the attack, feeling the wind that whipped across her face, then she swiftly took a step forward, her fist charged up and driving toward Roy's plexus.
Out of balance, it seemed like the first clean hit of the match was about to be made, but Roy quickly brought his forearm to bear, tanking her attack and sending himself stumbling backward.
"Finally, he's picking on someone his own size."
"That bastard."
"Seems they're evenly matched."
"The princess is just getting started on that cow."
The cheers and mockery from the side reached Roy, but he did not in any way let it bother him.
No matter how much they shouted and screamed, he could hear it in their tone, the jealousy, the envy. They all wished they could be him, wished their names could evoke the caution his did.
This was a world where strength determined its course, and Roy had his gaze tilted upward, his sights on dreams bigger than Sarah and even that monster.
This particular fight, this noisy arena, even the presence of scouts above, it all felt like a stepping stone to him.
Whether Sarah stood in front of him like a proud noble or a composed fighter did not matter. He would crush whatever rose before him, and he knew it.