Chương 44: Chapter 42 – The Test Inside of the Test

The E-rank assessment was explained while they walked toward the next field. After the teleport. Unlike the first test, this one was much simpler. It was a sparring assessment. Wooden weapons. Demonstrate combat capability. One of the female proctors had just started reaching for a wooden spear when Adriane interrupted.

"I will spar with her." The woman paused.

"She needs to use her real weapon," Adriane continued calmly.

"I don't trust that she won't kill someone here accidentally. She nearly killed Dewey during practice not long ago." The proctor slowly turned toward five feet five inches of Chelsea. Chelsea smiled politely and waved. The woman looked unconvinced. Her gaze drifted toward Dewey instead, a mountain of a brute currently dominating his own assessment match against another adventurer with terrifying ease. Then she looked back at tiny little Chelsea. Her nose wrinkled slightly.

"Alright," she finally said.

"I'll allow it. And it probably goes without saying, but try not to kill your little sister.."

"I make no promises," Adriane replied with a polite smile of her own.

"Adriane!" Chelsea protested. Her sister smirked. Adriane accepted the provided wooden sword while Chelsea retrieved her spear from her bag. The nearby proctor visibly paused at that. The bag really wasn't helping Chelsea seem less suspicious. Chelsea stretched her arms while Adriane patiently waited across from her. Unlike Bea, Adriane didn't tease her about warming up.

She simply settled into a proper sword stance with the relaxed confidence of someone who could kill everyone present without raising her heart rate. Chelsea circled carefully. Even knowing Adriane was holding back, Chelsea still felt excitement building in her chest. This was different from training with Bea. Bea trained her like prey being sharpened into a weapon. Chelsea didn't know how Adriane would train her. Chelsea thrust first. Adriane slipped aside more slowly than expected. Interesting.

Much slower than Bea. Chelsea immediately adjusted her expectations. Fighting Adriane felt like fighting a weaker, cleaner version of Bea. Less savage pressure. More technical. Adriane countered instantly with a forward lunge. Chelsea reacted on instinct, knocking the wooden blade aside with the shaft of her spear. The sword strike was weaker than Bea too. Adriane was intentionally making herself weaker.

"Good. Good," Adriane praised with an approving nod. Chelsea felt stupidly happy hearing that. She pressed forward again with another thrust. This time Adriane used the same deflection Bea had caught her with repeatedly during training, knocking the spear wide. Except Chelsea expected it now. Instead of resisting, she let the momentum carry through naturally and drove the butt end of the spear upward toward Adriane's ribs.

The wooden sword dropped instantly to intercept while Adriane's bracer absorbed the rest of the impact. Adriane was still approving. But she seemed to have a strange look on her face. Chelsea stepped back into stance.

"Very nice," Adriane encouraged. Then her posture shifted. It was subtle and controlled. Chelsea's turn attacking was over. Adriane advanced immediately. Her attacks came in measured succession. Slash. Thrust. Step. Pressure. Not as brutally fast as Bea. It wasn't nearly as violent nor did she use the same amount of strength. But the strikes were precise enough that Chelsea found herself scrambling to keep up anyway.

The shaft of her spear cracked against the wooden blade repeatedly as she struggled to keep Adriane from slipping inside her reach.

"She's doing well," the proctor remarked from the sidelines. Chelsea wasn't entirely convinced. Holding her own for a few exchanges against Adriane while the woman intentionally restrained herself did not exactly scream competence to Chelsea. Still, she pressed forward again, trying to apply what Bea had drilled into her. Forward pressure. Keep the spear moving. Control distance. She launched another chain of thrusts.

Adriane smoothly redirected each one with calm efficiency, her feet barely shifting across the dirt. Chelsea could already feel herself falling into a predictable rhythm. Thrust. Recover. Thrust again. Adriane was reading her too easily. So Chelsea broke pattern. Instead of another straight stab, she suddenly twisted her grip and swiped sideways toward Adriane's shoulder. Adriane's eyes widened slightly in surprise at the uncharacteristic attack. Her wooden sword came up automatically for a simple intercept.

The expected impact never happened. Chelsea loosened her grip for the briefest instant. The spear vanished. Several nearby spectators gasped. Chelsea immediately grabbed the shaft again as it recreated itself in her hand mid-motion, shortening the weapon's travel just enough to slip around Adriane's guard. The spear tip sliced a shallow line across Adriane's cheek. Chelsea immediately hopped backward into stance expecting retaliation. None came. The entire training area had gone quiet.

Adriane slowly raised her fingers to the thin line of blood on her face. She stared at the red staining her fingertips for a long second before finally looking back at Chelsea.

"You tricked me," Adriane said. Chelsea swallowed nervously.

"Did you devise that yourself?" Chelsea absolutely did not want to explain YouTube videos or Star Wars lightsaber arguments right now.

"Yeah," she answered instead. Adriane stared at her another moment before slowly nodding. Then she looked toward the observing proctor.

"I was fighting at typical low to mid D-rank power and speed," Adriane explained calmly.

"My suggestion is to pass her to E-rank and let her learn there for a while. Ultimately, it's up to you, though." The poor proctor looked caught somewhere between professional evaluation and realizing an S-rank legend was effectively telling her the answer.

"Uh, yeah," she replied quickly.

"Sounds good to me, Miss Wixx." This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Actually," another voice interrupted, "I would like to test her." A second proctor approached the field with his arms crossed.

"Otherwise, it may be seen as nepotism or favoritism." Chelsea immediately looked toward Adriane with visible panic.

"No," she whined slightly. A few nearby adventurers laughed quietly at that. The new proctor raised both hands in a calming gesture.

"Don't worry," he assured her.

"I will lessen the power of my attacks just as Miss Wixx did." Chelsea still looked deeply unconvinced. Her forehead creased with stress as she slowly shook her head toward Adriane. Adriane sighed.

"It's not herself she's worried about," Adriane explained. The new proctor blinked.

"What rank were you when you retired?" Adriane asked him.

"B," he answered simply.

"Okay." Adriane turned toward Chelsea.

"Chelsea, if you happen to defeat him and find yourself in the same situation as Dewey, I will stop you. Is that okay?" Chelsea let out a long suffering sigh before nodding reluctantly.

"Good girl," Adriane praised. Adriane stepped aside toward the original proctor while the new man walked into the sparring space.

"Miss Wixx," he began, offering a polite nod, "we haven't been introduced yet. I'm Tyler. I'm from the guild in Ponda. Ever been there?" Chelsea shook her head. He nodded thoughtfully.

"Ah. I thought perhaps you had. We have a couple of demons in our kingdom. Thought you may have originated from there." Chelsea's curiosity immediately flared. Other demons? Actual demons living openly somewhere. She wanted to ask him everything all at once, but remembered… Bodarex mentioning that demons in other lands were usually pampered nobility and apparently insufferable. Tyler kept talking before she could say anything.

"Anyways," he continued casually, "feel free to go all out. I'm more sturdy than I look." Chelsea looked at Adriane for permission to do so. Her sister tilted her head side to side thoughtfully while considering the situation. Finally, Adriane gave a small nod. Chelsea tightened her grip on her spear. Across from her, Tyler reached over his shoulder and pulled free a massive steel sword nearly as wide as Chelsea's torso.

"I hope it's okay if I use a real weapon as well," he said. Chelsea stared at the sword. Then back at him.

"Sure," she answered slowly. Then realization struck her.

"Wait. Have you seen me fight before?"

"No," he replied.

"Oh. Okay," Chelsea replied, deciding not to offer any helpful information about how she fought. She adjusted her helmet slightly and tightened her grip on the spear. Across from her, Tyler casually rested the massive sword against his shoulder.

"You can begin," the observing proctor announced. Chelsea immediately started circling. Just like with Adriane. Though this prey happened to be a retired B-rank carrying a sword large enough to cut her in half by dropping it. Chelsea spread her wings fully as she moved, letting the black membranes catch the wind dramatically. Part intimidation tactic. Part distraction. The sunlight filtering through the trees cast huge shifting shadows around Tyler as her wings moved. He did not seem impressed.

With The Baby Bird active, the wind felt almost alive around her. She could feel tiny shifts in pressure brushing against her fur and skin. Movement felt easier. Chelsea crept forward and tested him with a simple thrust. Tyler slipped around it effortlessly. Not fast in a flashy way. He was efficient and controlled. Chelsea pressed harder, chaining one thrust into another. Tyler maneuvered carefully around every attack, always keeping the spear tip several inches away from his body. Never wasting motion.

Never overcommitting. He was crazy fast. Faster than Adriane had been while suppressing herself. Honestly, his movement speed felt much closer to Bea during training. That realization sort of terrified Chelsea. After her sixth thrust, Tyler retaliated. The enormous blade swept horizontally toward her with frightening force. Chelsea noticed his feet shifting right before the swing began. A tell? Maybe. Maybe not. It was still worth remembering.

She shoved backward hard with both her legs and wings simultaneously, blasting herself out of range before the sword could connect. Dust exploded beneath her feet as she escaped the strike. A few nearby adventurers shouted in surprise. Chelsea landed cleanly and immediately reset her stance. She wasn't panicking. She surged back in before Tyler could reclaim space. The clash of wood and steel echoed repeatedly as Tyler redirected attack after attack with the flat of his blade.

Despite the sheer size of the sword, he wielded it with absurd precision. Chelsea needed another angle. She attempted the same trick she'd used on Adriane. A sweeping attack. Release the spear to make it disappear. Re-grab it mid-motion. But Tyler didn't even attempt the expected block. Instead, he dipped low underneath the sweep entirely. Crap. He had definitely watched the earlier match. Tyler immediately transitioned into a low thrust toward her stomach. Chelsea had overextended too far to recover in time.

So she abandoned the ground completely. Her legs exploded upward while her wings snapped downward with brutal force. Chelsea launched herself high into the air just as the sword passed beneath her. Gasps erupted from the surrounding assessment groups. She kept climbing. Ten meters. Twelve. Fifteen. The forest clearing suddenly looked much smaller below her. Now other assessment groups were stopping to watch openly. Chelsea spotted Dewey in the distance standing beside his sparring partner.

Below her, Tyler calmly reset into a defensive stance. He wasn't panicking. Nor was he leaving any reckless opening. An aerial assault against someone prepared for it would be stupid. Chelsea folded her wings slightly and let herself begin to fall. The air rushed past her face. At roughly five meters above the ground, she snapped her wings open again and lunged forward aggressively toward Tyler. The retired B-rank shifted his footing for leverage. There. That movement again. Chelsea reacted instantly.

Instead of continuing the dive, she reverse flapped hard. The sudden burst of force stopped her momentum almost immediately and blasted a huge cloud of dirt and sand directly into Tyler's face. Several spectators yelled in shock. Tyler reflexively shut his eyes as the grit struck him. It was only for a second. But a second was enough. Chelsea shot forward. Her spear thrust directly toward his face. Anger flared within Chelsea. How dare he dodge that. That strike that cut Adriane.

For a split second, it wasn't about the assessment anymore. It wasn't about ranks or passing or proving anything. It was the sting of it. The clean read. The calm reaction. The way he had seen through her trick when Adriane had not. It burned. He made her look predictable. He made Adriane look beatable. He lied about not seeing her fight. The thought twisted sharp in her chest, something darker riding right behind it. A hot, hungry edge that urged her forward. She could almost taste his defeat. No.

Chelsea, what the hell are you doing? The realization hit her mid-thrust like cold water. This wasn't a fight. This was a test. He wasn't an enemy. He was trying to evaluate her. And she was about to put a spear through his face? Where was Adriane? Her eyes flicked past Tyler for half a heartbeat. There she was. Watching. She wasn't concerned. Adriane was trusting her. She was never actually going to stop Chelsea like she had with Dewey. This was a different sort of test. That steadied something.

Chelsea adjusted at the last possible moment. The spear tip shifted just enough to miss his head. Her wrists twisted with precise control, turning the killing thrust into something harmless. The flat of the blade tapped against the side of his head, gently. A clean hit.

"That's it," the other proctor declared immediately.

"Miss Wixx is the winner." The tension snapped like a cut string. Tyler lowered his sword and brought both hands up to his face, rubbing at his eyes as he blinked through the lingering grit.

"Damn, that stings," he muttered trying to get the sand out of his eyes. Chelsea exhaled slowly, the leftover heat draining out of her system. Her grip on the spear loosened just a fraction. She looked toward Adriane. Her sister gave a small smile and a nod. That felt better than the win.

"Tyler, what's your opinion?" the proctor who watched both fights asked. Tyler dragged his hands down his face one more time, squinting as his vision cleared. He took a moment, looking Chelsea over from head to toe, then glanced at the disturbed ground around them.

"Move her to the D-rank assessment," he said. A murmur rippled through the nearby onlookers.

"You can tell she's still new to using spears. Very new. Maybe started within the last couple of weeks?"

"Last few days," Chelsea confirmed. Tyler gave a short, impressed nod.

"Right. But her strength is definitely D-grade, and with decent flying skills, her talent would be wasted in the E-grade." He paused, then added, "What level are you, Miss Wixx?" Chelsea didn't even think about it.

"I'm not allowed to say," she replied automatically, glancing toward Adriane. Adriane chuckled softly. Both proctors turned toward her. Adriane gave a simple nod.

"Levels are personal and Wixx business. If either of you wants to marry Chelsea, then you might find out, but until then, it's a secret."

"No thank you!" Chelsea blurted instantly. The speed of her response made a few people nearby laugh.

"I mean..." she added quickly, her voice dropping a notch as she looked between the man and woman, both clearly amused now.

"I don't know them well enough. At least take me on a date first." She giggled.

"There you have it," Adriane said lightly.

"We'll keep her at E for now. Like you said, she's very new to her weapon." The two proctors exchanged a glance and shrugged. There wasn't much room for argument. Adriane Wixx had spoken.

"Alright," the nameless proctor said.

"We're going to get back to the other assessments. Teleportation cards are over there." She pointed toward a nearby table. The tension around the field began to dissolve as people returned to their own tests. Chelsea reached up and removed her helmet. Her long dark hair fell free around her shoulders, catching a bit of sunlight as it settled. She stepped forward and gave both proctors a polite curtsy, followed by the smile she was coming to call her trademark smile.

"Thank you for everything today," she said.

"I hope to meet you two again." They both glanced toward Adriane before offering their polite replies, clearly choosing their words with care. Chelsea gave them one last nod and turned away, heading toward the card table. As she passed, she caught a hushed exchange behind her.

"Are you sure she's a demon?" Chelsea didn't turn around. Instead, a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Good. That was the point. If that was the reaction she was getting now, then she was doing something right. She could work with that. One person at a time. One conversation at a time. One very confused proctor at a time. Her thoughts drifted briefly to Henry, the guild clerk. Except him. She was perfectly fine letting him stay terrified.

"Very well done today," Adriane said, pulling Chelsea out of her thoughts as she approached the table.

"You finished the first exam in twenty-one minutes. I was counting." Chelsea looked up at her, clearly pleased with herself.

"Did you know I'd use my wings?"

"No," Adriane admitted, folding her arms.

"But I knew you'd do something. You always come up with something very Chelsea to push the boundaries." Chelsea gasped softly, placing a hand against her chest in mock offense.

"I'm sorry, using my name as an adjective is hurtful."

"I don't know what that means," Adriane replied without missing a beat, "but it sounds very Chelsea." Chelsea tried to hold it together. She failed. A laugh slipped out as she shook her head, already turning back toward the table to grab what she needed to get back to the city.