Reborn With A Technology System In A Fantasy World-Chapter 39: Academy Examination (2)

The examiner’s face was one of authority as he addressed the fifty kids.

"Every group gets a unique test. For you, it’s a duel tournament. You’ll face off in pairs, one against one. The winner advances to the next round. I’ll be judging each fight, and the two weakest winners will duel for the twenty-fourth spot to keep the numbers even. Understood?"

The kids nodded, some with clenched jaws while others shifted uneasily.

"The rules are simple and canon No magic, not even a flicker. No killing or crippling your opponent. I’ll stop any nonsense before it goes too far. You can use any weapon you like, but no enchantments. I’m inspecting every single one before we start."

Adrian’s breath hitched for a moment. ’No magic?’ His gun wasn’t enchanted — it channeled mana through a mechanical crystal matrix, only emitting when activated. Still, a sliver of doubt gnawed at him.

’Will it pass as a regular weapon?’ He steadied himself, trusting the gun’s design. It was his ace, and he’d make it work. The examiner pointed to the forming line. "One at a time, show me your weapon. Move!"

The kids lined up, clutching their gear — swords, spears, axes, and a few bows.

Adrian reached into his bag and pulled out the Mana Gun.

The gun’s strange look drew some whispers from around him, but Adrian kept the gun powered off. ’Let them think it’s just a strange club,’ he thought.

One by one, the kids presented their weapons to be tested for magic, and each of them received a parchment with a number, signed by the examiner.

It soon got to Adrian’s turn, and he stepped forward, holding the gun held casually. The examiner’s eyes narrowed as he looked at him.

"What’s this supposed to be? A weapon or a toy?"

"It’s my weapon."

The examiner scoffed before snatching the gun.

He muttered a low chant and like Adrian guessed he soon returned turning it back to him. "There’s no magic. It’s valid."

Adrian fought back a smile. ’As expected,’ he thought. ’Enchanted weapons leak mana constantly. My gun’s dead silent unless I power it up.’

He nodded. "Okay."

The examiner’s skepticism lingered. "Don’t know what you’re thinking to bring something like that into a fight. Grab a spear or staff, it would serve you more than your fancy toy."

"Thanks for the advice," Adrian said in a polite tone. "I’ll be fine."

"Suit yourself," the examiner muttered, handing him a parchment with ’18’ written in bold ink, signed with a sharp flourish. He waved Adrian off before moving over to the next kid.

Minutes later, the inspections were complete. The examiner clapped his hands, his voice cutting through the murmurs.

"Alright, we’re ready. First pair, number one, step into the arena!"

A hush fell and the air was thick with anticipation, as two boys ascended the stone platform. One, a broad-shouldered kid with a sword, wore a grim, focused expression, his stance screaming discipline.

The other, a tall, brown-haired boy with a spear, grinned like he came to play, his weapon twirling lazily in his hands.

Adrian leaned forward, eager to size up the knight track’s skill. The sword boy’s intensity suggested rigorous training, his grip steady and low.

The spear boy’s casual demeanor, though, hinted at something more — confidence born of experience.

’Don’t pick a winner yet,’ Adrian thought, but his gut leaned toward the spear boy. That smile wasn’t just bravado; it was a mask for something sharp. ’Let’s see what knights are made of.’

The examiner stood between them, his presence a wall of authority.

"No lethal blows. You’re wielding real weapons, so don’t make me stress myself to interfere. Stick to the rules."

The sword boy gave a curt nod, his eyes never leaving his opponent. The spear boy’s grin widened and his nod was almost mocking.

"Ready?" the examiner barked. "Go!"

The arena exploded into motion. Both boys moved with surprising agility for their age — not lightning-fast, but far beyond average.

Their footwork was precise, their grips practiced, revealing that they had some training prior to this.

The sword boy struck first, lunging with a powerful slash aimed at the spear boy’s chest. The lean boy, still smiling, sidestepped with liquid grace, his spear’s shaft snapping up to deflect the blade with a ringing clang.

The crowd gasped, the sound echoing off the stone walls.

The sword boy pressed his attack, his blade a silver arc as he swung again, aiming for the spear boy’s shoulder.

The spear boy’s strength was deceptive for someone as lean as him — he parried with ease, the spear’s length giving him control.

The two locked weapons with the sword boy’s muscles bulging as he pushed, while the spear boy held firm, his grin unshaken.

It looked like a test of power, a deadlock — until the spear boy shifted the game.

With a flicker of movement, he leaned into the clash, masking his true intent.

His leg lashed out and a vicious kick landed squarely on the sword boy’s groin.

The impact was brutal, a dull thud that made half the crowd wince.

The sword boy collapsed and a piercing scream escaped from his throat as he clutched himself, his sword skittering across the stone.

The spear boy stepped forward, his spear’s tip hovering over the sword boy’s chest and his smile as bright as ever.

"I win," he said, with the calmest of voice and the same bright smile that was on his face.

The sword boy, face twisted in agony. "You dirty cheat! Why the hell—"

His words dissolved into a sob and the examiner soon walked closer to finish him off.

"Winner! Get up, kid, and walk it off."

Officials hauled the sword boy away, his curses fading, while the spear boy turned around and spread his hands as if trying to hug the audience, twirling his spear like a prize.

Adrian’s lips curved into a faint smile.

"Victory at all costs," he murmured, his respect for the spear boy growing. ’Smart. Brutal. He saw the opening and took it.’

The move was low, but exploiting weakness was fair game. Adrian tucked the lesson away and continued to watch.

The next fight pitted two girls, both wielding swords. Their duel was a study in patience, a slow burn compared to the spear boy’s lightning strike.

Their blades clashed in a rough dance, sparks flying with each parry and thrust.

They circled, testing each other’s defenses with neither willing to overcommit.

The crowd watched with silence as the minutes stretched and finally, one faltered — her foot slipped on a slick patch of stone, throwing her balance.

The other pounced, her blade striking her opponent’s wrist, sending the sword flying.

The examiner called it: "Winner!"

The victor offered a hand, helping her opponent up in respect, but the other girl was still crying on the floor, as she understood what she has just missed out on.

Most duels followed suit — some ended in seconds with a single, decisive strike, others dragged on as kids matched skill for skill.

A boy with a mace battered his axe-wielding foe into submission. A girl with a staff outmaneuvered a dagger user, tripping her with a low sweep.

Winners advanced, their faces alight with relief or pride; losers trudged off, some nursing bruises, others their egos.

The arena was filled with cheers, gasps, and the occasional groan and the air was heavy with the stakes.

Then, the examiner’s voice boomed: "Number eighteen, step up!"

’Finally,’ Adrian thought, before calmly walking up to the arena in slow steps, with the mana gun in his hand.

Its sleek, shiny design caught a few curious glances, but most dismissed it as an oddity.

His opponent, a girl with a stern, focused expression, stepped up opposite him, her short sword gripped with both hands. Her eyes flicked to the gun, a flash of confusion crossed her face, but her resolve didn’t waver.

The examiner eyed Adrian’s weapon, his sigh heavy with doubt. "Still going with that thing, kid? Better not disappoint."

He raised his hand and announced in a sharp voice. "Ready? Begin!"

The girl charged instantly, her sword raised, strength and determination in every step.

Her eyes burned with focus and she had her blade angled for a clean strike.

Adrian didn’t flinch for a second. He raised the gun with the ease of someone who’d faced more.

His last encounter had taught him precision — how much power could disable without crossing the line into "grievous injury."

He dialed the trigger to its lowest intensity with his thumb steady.

As the girl closed in, her sword arcing down, he aimed at her shoulder and fired.

~ZAP~

A blue pulse lanced forward in a streak of light too fast to dodge. It struck her shoulder with a sharp crack and the impact threw her off balance.

She collapsed with a cry afterwards, her sword clattering away and her hand clutching the singed, bruised spot as pain contorted her face.

Silence engulfed the entire arena as every eye remained locked on Adrian and the fallen girl.