Then Archery is my path

Altgard Academy Entrance Exam: 1st Stage

"Activate the Aether Circuit."

At that command, ManaVentis activated across the room, engulfing all the participants in their respective elemental auras. The entire hall was awash with vivid, shifting colors as mana representing different elements illuminated the space. The number plates we had been given earlier reacted to the activation of our circuits, changing their colors to correspond with our elemental constitutions.

I was surrounded by the soft yet forceful swirl of wind mana, and my plate turned a dark green. Around me, groups began to form based on their elemental affinities. For instance, Astrel's group was primarily composed of individuals with Ignis and Terra constitutions, while the group gathered around the descendant of Glaciar Dominion consisted mostly of Aqua users, with a smaller number of Ventus practitioners mixed in.

Smaller, tighter-knit groups were also visible. Luna, alongside the representative of Angel Warriors, attracted individuals with Lux and Umbra constitutions. These groups seemed deliberately isolated, likely due to the independence of their respective clans from the Coalition.

Then there were the loners—those who didn't belong to any group. I was one of them.

It seems we're going to be here for a while.

Time stretched on, yet no further instructions were announced. Initially, everyone had been on edge, but as moments turned into minutes and perhaps hours, a sense of relative calm—or perhaps resignation—settled over the room.

Unwilling to waste the time idly, I assumed a meditation pose and focused on my Aether Circuit. With each breath, I refined the flow of mana within me, honing my control and sharpening my awareness.

Still, time dragged on. Without any way to measure its passage—our watches rendered useless and no view of the outside world—most people began to grow restless.

At first, no one experienced any issues maintaining their circuits. After all, nearly everyone in the room was a trained fighter, conditioned for endurance since childhood. However, boredom began to gnaw at them. Groups, having exhausted their conversations, broke apart. Individuals sprawled across the room, each seeking their own space of comfort.

The prolonged inactivity began to take its toll. It was like staring at a glass of water without being allowed to drink, forced to watch it endlessly while thirst gradually set in. Initially tolerable, this longing for action grew unbearable over time. Frustration mounted, turning to irritation, and for some, quiet aggression.

Even I was not immune to this creeping restlessness. My muscles burned with the need for activity, begging for motion. The air felt too still, my body too tense.

Fine, I thought, if my body craves action, then I'll give it what it wants.

Without hesitation, I stood and did what I had trained to do countless times during my years of isolation: I began to run.

The gym was incredibly spacious. Even with so many people inside, moving around wasn't an issue. With plenty of room to maneuver, I decided to create an impromptu obstacle course, weaving my way through the crowd.

I got up and began running—not at full speed, but certainly faster than a casual jog. My movements weren't normal by any means. I navigated through the mass of people with precision, slipping past without so much as brushing against anyone, whether they were standing, sitting, or lying down.

Naturally, my actions drew attention. For a moment, the entire room turned their eyes toward me, watching as the hooded boy darted gracefully among them, avoiding contact at a speed that was neither slow nor frantic. After a few moments, however, it seemed my purpose clicked for everyone.

Soon, the gym buzzed with activity as people began to follow my lead.

Those with Ignis constitutions gravitated toward strength exercises—push-ups, pull-ups using wall surfaces, or simply challenging themselves with weight training.

The Aqua-affiliated individuals opted for stretches, contorting their bodies into positions that bordered on the impossible, demonstrating incredible flexibility.

Terra practitioners focused on static resistance exercises. Some balanced in handstands or crane poses, while others even maintained headstands for extended periods.

Umbra individuals practiced stealthy, fluid movements—quick, elastic transitions that were reminiscent of my own technique, though theirs carried an almost ethereal quality.

The Lux constitution group, in contrast, didn't engage in physical exercises at all. They remained in meditation, but their ManaVentis flowed unusually—thickening and condensing in some areas while shrinking in others, almost as if their aether obeyed commands issued through sheer willpower.

The Ventus group, unsurprisingly, joined my route, using the path I carved to practice their agility. Some mimicked movements similar to Tai Chi, but with a unique twist. I could see how the currents of wind around them shifted and responded to their deliberate gestures.

It wouldn't hurt to learn that, I thought, observing their fluid grace.

With this sudden surge of activity, the gym transformed into a chaotic yet focused training ground. People busied themselves practicing, discussing techniques, and exchanging ideas on how to refine their movements or make them more efficient.

But this newfound enthusiasm also ignited competition between groups.

The Ignis practitioners competed over repetitions or how much weight—represented by people, naturally—they could lift. The Aqua group tested who could hold or replicate the most difficult poses. Each element seemed to spark its own set of challenges.

Amidst this, I couldn't help but notice some of the Ventus practitioners challenging my running route. A few managed to keep up, while others even began overtaking me. One of them, however, didn't just overtake me. They turned back and addressed me directly, a cheeky grin on their face.

"Hey, can you go faster?"

I could have ignored the challenge—it wasn't like I had anything to prove. But honestly, with nothing else occupying me, the idea of a little competition didn't sound so bad.

I smirked under my hood and responded, "Don't regret those words."

At this point, our speed had increased to an exhilarating level—not so reckless as to risk crashing into others, but fast enough that tracking our silhouettes required intense focus. Blink once, and we'd be in a completely different area.

Our little competition quickly escalated. About twenty more people joined in, including members of the Umbra group. What started as a simple route now transformed into a high-stakes race with acrobatics woven into every movement.

In the leading group, it was me, the boy who had initially challenged me, and three or four others who managed to keep up with the intense pace we'd set. Then, that same boy issued another challenge, his voice sharp with excitement.

"A full circle around the entire room, starting from the Aqua group. Whoever gets there first wins. Are you in?"

The thrill of competition crackled in the air. Without hesitation, the front runners—and a few more who had just caught up—nodded their agreement.

We neared the Aqua group, and the countdown began.

"Three… two… one… start!"

At the sound of "start," we burst forward, a collective surge of energy and speed. The force of our movements stirred the air, creating gusts of wind that rippled outwards, brushing past the unfortunate onlookers who stood too close. But before they could react, we were already gone.

The speed was exhilarating. Everything in my peripheral vision blurred, leaving only the narrow path ahead in focus. Behind us, a distinct current of wind trailed, a testament to the sheer velocity of our race. It was no longer just a competition—it was a spectacle.

The entire hall turned their attention toward us. Some watched in awe, others with curiosity or envy. But as if responding to our chaotic energy, members from various groups decided to intervene and make things more… interesting.

The first obstacle came from the Terra group. They formed a wall of bodies, their massive frames creating an imposing blockade. But for us, it was little more than an inconvenient pile of rocks. We adapted effortlessly.

Some leapt clean over the wall; others slid beneath it, weaving through their legs with agile precision. As for me, I opted to use the wall itself, running up its side for a few steps before flipping back to the ground, maintaining my momentum. The others followed suit, and we barely lost any speed.

Next came the Ignis group, who posed a greater threat. Their explosive movements and unpredictable bursts of power made their barricade far more dangerous.

"One, two, three—" I counted in my head as I zigzagged between them, jumping to the right, darting to the left, and then shifting back to the right again. I applied the principles of Territory Formation, though without fully activating it, ensuring precise movements to evade their fiery strikes.

This time, however, our group didn't make it through entirely unscathed. A few of our runners were caught by the Ignis group's explosive tactics, their progress halted.

As we closed in on the finish line, I found myself in third place. The boy who had issued the challenge, along with another runner, had managed to overtake me while I navigated the Ignis group's defenses.

But the race wasn't over yet.

In front of us stood the Aqua group, their flexible yet powerful stance immediately indicating that they were ready to halt our wind-driven advance. Among them, standing out like an ominous shadow, was Astrel's competitor. His presence raised the stakes, making it clear this was going to be more than just a race—it was a test of adaptability and ingenuity.

Sensing the challenge ahead, I instinctively increased my speed, and the group in front narrowed to just the three of us: me, the boy who had initially provoked the race, and the silent runner from the Umbra group. As we closed the gap to the Aqua blockade, the boy spoke, his voice carrying a mix of adrenaline and determination.

"Ahhh, good luck to us! Let's split into three paths," he suggested.

I asked, "Who'll take the center?"

He smirked. "What? Afraid to be the one?"

"Fine. I'll take the center," I replied without hesitation.

With that, we separated—me in the middle, the chatterbox on the right, and the Umbra runner, who offered nothing but a small nod, taking the left flank.

The Aqua group quickly adapted to our strategy, dividing themselves into three smaller units to intercept each of us. However, I noticed the most skilled and dangerous among them remained in the center—directly in my path.

How do I deal with this?

A head-on confrontation flashed in my mind, but I quickly dismissed it. The Aqua constitution's strength lies in a combination of fluid flexibility and precise, explosive power. Slowing down would only make me an easier target, yet charging headlong seemed like a guaranteed loss.

What can I use?

I scanned the surroundings, searching for something, anything, that could tip the odds in my favor. My eyes darted back for a brief moment, and that's when I saw it—a major wind current trailing us, an echo of the collective speed and energy we had generated.

Eureka!

With a plan forming in my mind, I executed my move.

I reduced my speed slightly, just enough to bait the Aqua group into tightening their formation and preparing for the interception. As I approached the blockade, a wall of hands lunged toward me, aiming to grab hold. At the last moment, I dropped into a sliding motion, one leg extended forward, the friction slowing me just enough to stay in control.

Halfway through their formation, I saw more hands reaching toward me. With no time to spare, I shifted my weight, bent my knees, and launched myself upward in a leap. The sudden jump carried me above the Aqua group, but my momentum was spent—I hung in midair like a star, limbs stretched wide, with no forward drive to carry me past them.

Come on, faster. I'm waiting for you, I thought, silently urging the wind current behind me to catch up.

And it did.

The rushing current swept into me like a gale, giving me the forward momentum I needed. I adjusted my posture midair, arms and legs tightening into a streamlined position, and landed with a controlled roll. As soon as I hit the ground, I used the momentum to push myself forward, accelerating back into the race.

Behind me, the chatterbox followed close, breaking through his own flank with a mixture of cunning and agility. The two of us, now neck and neck, launched into a final sprint toward the finish line, leaving the others behind.

The hall erupted with noise as everyone's attention locked onto the final stretch. The air felt electric, and the thrill of competition coursed through my veins. I could see the finish line ahead, tantalizingly close, but the race was far from over. The chatterbox was relentless, and I couldn't afford to let my guard down—not now.

He managed to conserve a portion of his inertia, closing the gap between us with impressive precision. Before I knew it, he was right next to me, both of us sprinting side by side toward the imaginary finish line. The crowd's eyes were locked on us as if the entire hall was holding its breath, the tension thick enough to cut with a blade.

Then I noticed it—subtle but unmistakable. Currents of wind began to accumulate around him, wrapping him in an almost invisible force that seemed to propel him forward. His pace increased dramatically, the distance between us growing with each passing moment.

A technique?

A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. If he was going to use a technique, why shouldn't I?

With only 10 meters separating me from the finish, and 6 meters for him, I made my move.

Movement Technique: Wind Kingdom (4★)

Stage 1: Territory Formation

Instead of activating the technique in a single burst that would be too obvious, I layered several smaller territories in quick succession, each one giving me a slight boost in speed. The air around me responded instantly, currents shifting and converging as I glided through them.

Seeing this, he instinctively began to pull more wind currents toward himself, unaware that my subtle adjustments were forcing the air to funnel toward both of us.

The finish line loomed ahead.

5 meters.

3 meters.

With a final burst, I tapped into the last territory I had created. My feet barely touched the ground as I surged forward, neck and neck with my challenger in the final stretch.

And then—FINISH.