My Pheonix System

Chapter 8 - hunter test

"Silence!"

Instructor Brann’s voice cracked like a whip, and the arena fell into a tense, immediate hush. Hundreds of hopeful students stared up at him.

“My name is Brann. I will be conducting this assessment, so listen well. Your future here depends on it.” He let his gaze sweep over them. “Every one of you falls into one of two classes: Warrior or Mage. Warriors rely on physical power, speed, and defense, channeling mana into their bodies. Mages wield special abilities, from elemental manipulation to healing.”

He gestured to a large, glowing crystal to his left. “The assessment is in two parts. First, the mana-evaluation crystal will ascertain your current stage and class.” He then pointed a thick finger toward a humanoid figure in the center of the combat platform. “Second, you will face that training dummy in combat. Do not underestimate it.”

The dummy was a formidable sight, a mannequin wrapped in segmented black rubber plates that resembled obsidian armor.

The testing began. In groups of five, students were called forward. The crystal glowed, announcing stages in a monotone voice. Reactions varied wildly.

“initial 1 star warrior hunter ,” the crystal intoned for one boy. His shoulders slumped. “I trained so hard…” he mumbled, shuffling toward the dummy, which promptly knocked him off his feet in three seconds.

A moment later, a girl’s badge glowed silver as the crystal announced, “Peak 1 star Mage hunter.” A smirk appeared on her lips. She then used a controlled gust of wind to blast the dummy away, earning a nod from Brann.

A murmur ran through the crowd. “See? It’s not just about raw power,” one observant student whispered to his friend. “If you can’t apply it in a fight, you’re just a mana battery.”

Then, Brann’s voice boomed again. “Harry Caelum, Lucian Cross, Graece Silverleaf, Latisha Kronocrest, step forward.”

Harry was first. He placed his hand on the crystal.

“Peak 3 star ,Mage.”

"wow at such a young age what a talent" said an instructor.

He sauntered onto the platform.The dummy rushed him, its fist a blur. At the last possible moment, lightning crackled across Harry’s body. He became a flash of light, sidestepping and driving a fist wreathed in electricity into the dummy’s chest.

ZZZT–CRACK!

The dummy staggered back, a black scorch mark on its torso. The crowd erupted.

“Did you see that?He moved like lightning!”

“I didn’t even see him move!”

Instructor Brann gave a curt nod.“Peak Stage 0, Mage. Proceed.”

“Next! Graece Silverleaf.”

Graece moved with an unnerving serenity. The crystal glowed: “Mid 3 star Mage.” As she took her place on the platform, the dummy charged. She didn’t flinch, her face a placid mask.

The crowd grew restless. “Is she just going to stand there?” someone hissed.

“She’s frozen!She’s going to get hit!”

Just before impact, she knelt, placing her palms flat on the floor. “Forest Release: Vine Bloom.” The stone floor ruptured. Thick, bark-like vines exploded upwards, striking the dummy with explosive force.

CLANG!

One vine hammered its torso, hurling it back. Another snaked out, entangling its arm and yanking it brutally to the floor.

BAM!

The dummy was systematically ensnared and battered into submission before a final, whip-crack vine across its chest silenced it completely. Graece stood, brushed a speck of dust from her skirt, and exhaled softly. A stunned silence blanketed the arena, broken by a hushed whisper.

“She…she destroyed it without even throwing a punch.”

“What kind of mage is she?”

From the instructor’s dais, a female instructor smiled. “Impressive control for a Middle Stage.”

Brann nodded,his arms crossed. “Indeed. This year will be interesting.”

“Latisha Kronocrest. You’re next.”

The crystal confirmed her as a Peak Stage 0 Mage. Latisha’s eyes held a sharp, competitive glint as she fell into a fluid fighter’s stance. The dummy lunged, unleashing a blistering combination of punches aimed at her head. She weaved and slipped, each strike passing millimeters from her face.

“Phew, that was close,” she muttered with a breathless grin, more to herself than anyone.

It tried a spinning kick. She leaned back, letting the force whistle past her. She shot a quick jab, which the dummy blocked, countering with a ferocious overhead swing.

BLINK.

She vanished, reappearing several meters away, casually brushing dust from her shoulder. “Too slow.”

She sprinted forward,feinted with her right, and vanished again—reappearing behind the dummy. Her shin whipped into the back of its knee.

BANG!

As it stumbled, it countered with a blind spinning kick, hitting only air.

BANG!

Her elbow smashed into its head.

Without pause, she lunged, leaping into the air. The dummy jumped to intercept, but she vanished mid-flight, reappearing above it. “Gotcha.”

Her axe kick descended like a hammer,crushing the dummy’s head into the floor with a final, thunderous BANG!

She landed lightly, brushed her hair back, and walked off the platform. The crowd was caught between awe and disbelief.

“She teleports!How are you supposed to fight that?”

“Did you see the power in that kick?She’s a mage who fights like a warrior!”

Finally, it was Lucian’s turn. He placed his hand on the crystal.

“mid 1 star Warrior.”

A surge of confidence warmed him.‘Middle Stage… my training is paying off.’

He stepped onto the platform, cracking his knuckles. "Let's get this over with."

He took the initiative, lunging forward. His first punch slammed into the dummy's chest, making it stagger. It countered immediately with a blow toward his ribs. Lucian twisted, barely getting his forearm in the way. The impact stung. “Too close,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

As it shot another punch at his head, he ducked under, slammed his shoulder into its torso to unbalance it, and followed with a brutal uppercut. The dummy’s head snapped back. Seeing his opening, Lucian roared, pouring all his strength into one final, explosive straight punch.

BANG!

The force sent the dummy flying off its feet before it crashed to the floor, its lights flickering out.

Lucian stood panting, a bead of sweat tracing his temple. He allowed himself a small, satisfied smirk. “Not bad for a warm-up.”