The teacher's sharp gaze locked onto the next student. "Rank 38, step forward," Reynold commanded.
The class watched with heightened anticipation as another student prepared to showcase their abilities.
Asher, sitting silently in the back, observed it all with mild interest.
One by one, the students stepped forward, each showcasing their unique abilities. The room was alive with tension and anticipation, the air charged with the thrill of discovery and the weight of Reynold's critical gaze.
The first few students displayed fairly common abilities—useful but not particularly extraordinary. Reynold assessed them with a sharp eye, offering both praise and constructive criticism.
One student, a young man with short black hair, demonstrated his ability to manipulate vines. He summoned a thick tangle of thorned greenery that spread across the stage, capturing one of Reynold's summoned training orbs in a matter of seconds.
"Vine Snare," Reynold remarked, pacing around the captured orb. "A classic crowd-control ability. Your control is decent, but your execution is too slow. In real combat, a skilled opponent would have broken free before your vines could fully envelop them. Work on speed, or you'll find yourself outpaced by higher-ranked combatants."
The next student, a petite girl with vibrant blue hair, stepped forward nervously. She introduced herself as Mia and revealed her ability to manipulate water. With a wave of her hands, she summoned a swirling torrent of water that coalesced into a sharp, spear-like form.
"Water Lance," Reynold said, nodding thoughtfully as she launched the attack toward a designated target. The spear struck true, piercing through the reinforced dummy with surprising force.
"Your aim is precise, and your technique is refined," Reynold said, his tone softer than before. "But your power output is lacking. The lance barely punctured the dummy. For an ability to be effective in combat, it needs to carry more weight. Focus on increasing the density of your water constructs."
Mia nodded, her cheeks flushed with a mix of pride and determination as she returned to her seat.
A student with an ability called "Echo Step" followed, demonstrating his talent for duplicating himself in battle. He created two perfect replicas of himself that moved independently, attacking a training orb from three different angles.
Reynold watched with keen interest. "Impressive for your rank," he said. "Your clones are synchronized, and their movements are fluid. However, your own position gives you away. If an enemy figures out which is the original, your entire strategy falls apart. Train yourself to blend in with your copies, or learn to control them remotely."
As more students took the stage, the class grew more animated, whispering among themselves about each performance. Abilities ranged from elemental manipulation to psychic powers, each one bringing a new challenge and earning a unique critique from Reynold.
One particularly striking student showcased the ability "Shadow Bind," summoning tendrils of darkness that slithered across the stage, trapping Reynold's training orbs in an instant. The room buzzed with excitement at the sight, but Reynold remained composed.
"Shadow abilities are versatile and dangerous," he said, inspecting the tendrils. "Your control is excellent, but your shadows are fragile. A single burst of light energy would dissipate them entirely. Learn to fortify your constructs or pair them with complementary techniques."
Despite his critiques, Reynold's comments carried a sense of genuine investment in the students' growth. Each piece of advice was tailored to the individual, leaving them with a clear understanding of their strengths and weaknesses.
By the time Reynold called for Rank 20, the class was buzzing with energy, the atmosphere charged with a mix of awe and determination. Asher remained seated at the back, his expression unreadable as he observed the proceedings.
Reynold's gaze eventually landed on him again, a glimmer of expectation in his sharp eyes. "Magnus," he said, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "I saved you for last for a reason. Let's see if you're worthy of that top rank."
Asher rose from his seat, the room falling silent in an instant. All eyes were on him as he stepped onto the stage, his calm demeanor radiating an aura of quiet confidence. "Whatever you say, instructor," he replied coolly, his crimson eyes glinting under the room's light.
The stage was set for the top ranker to show what made him different from the rest. If you want to read more chapters, please visit Novel~Fire. (n)et
Asher stepped onto the stage, his movements unhurried, exuding an air of indifference that only heightened the anticipation in the room. The class watched in silence, their earlier murmurs dying down. Even Reynold, who had maintained a composed demeanor throughout, seemed slightly more alert.
"Magnus," Reynold began, his tone sharp, "state your ability."
Asher tilted his head slightly, his crimson eyes glinting with a faint amusement. "Blood Manipulation," he said simply, his voice steady, almost bored.
The class erupted in hushed whispers, students exchanging startled glances. Blood Manipulation was a rare and powerful ability, often feared for its versatility and lethality.
Many in this class are unlike the Supreme families and now they want to see it, though many of them has also saw it when Asher and Darren fought but mostly didn't saw it, as now Asher going to demonstrate it the all look forward to it.
"Silence," Reynold ordered, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade. He turned back to Asher, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "An powerful ability from one of the Supreme Families. Show me how you've honed it."
Asher raised a hand, and the air around him seemed to shift. His veins glowed faintly as crimson orbs of blood began to materialize, swirling lazily around him. The orbs solidified into sharp, blade-like constructs, each one pulsing with a menacing energy.
"Blood Blades," Asher announced casually. He flicked his wrist, and the blades shot forward, striking Reynold's summoned training orbs with pinpoint accuracy. The orbs shattered, unable to withstand the sheer force behind the attack.
The class watched in stunned silence as Asher's blades returned to him, reforming into a single, larger scythe that he held effortlessly in one hand.
"Impressive," Reynold said, his smirk widening. "Your control is precise, and your power is undeniable. But raw power isn't enough. Let's see how you fare under pressure."