Chapter 45: Final Evaluation: SSS.

"Candidate 002, Evelyn Sterling!"

The automated announcement rang across the stadium.

For a moment, the entire arena seemed to hold its breath.

The chaotic noise that had followed Eric’s disastrous run faded almost instantly, replaced by a thick, expectant silence. Hundreds of eyes shifted toward the holding area.

Evelyn walked past the waiting pens with an unhurried calm that seemed completely out of place in such a tense environment. The black fabric of her combat suit caught the morning sunlight, while her high ponytail swayed gently behind her with each measured step.

She wasn’t wearing bulky protective armor.

She didn’t check her equipment or stretch her limbs.

She simply walked forward with the quiet confidence of someone entering a familiar garden rather than a dangerous combat course.

As she passed Lucian, Evelyn suddenly slowed.

She stopped beside him for barely half a second.

"Watch the third gate."

Her voice dropped into a soft murmur meant only for him.

"The pneumatic timing changes from a three-beat pattern to an irregular two-beat pattern at the forty-meter mark."

Her lips curved slightly.

"And don’t trip over your own laces, ’D-Rank master.’"

Lucian leaned casually against the guardrail, a faint smirk appearing at the corner of his mouth.

"I’m clumsy, remember?"

He shrugged.

"I’ll probably just close my eyes and pray."

Evelyn stared at him for a moment before releasing a quiet, melodic huff that sounded suspiciously close to a suppressed laugh.

Without saying anything else, she turned toward the starting arch.

A moment later, Evelyn stepped through the gate.

The stadium fell completely silent.

The moment Evelyn’s boots touched the starting plate, something about her changed.

The casual aristocratic composure disappeared, replaced by an almost ethereal focus. Her expression became razor-sharp, every trace of distraction vanishing as if someone had flipped a switch.

Chime.

The green light flashed.

Evelyn didn’t sprint.

She didn’t kick up dust or scrape the composite floor with unnecessary force. Instead, she simply leaned forward, so smoothly that for a split second, it looked as though gravity itself had decided to carry her.

Swoosh—!

Her slender figure blurred into a streak of midnight blue and azure.

Where Eric had charged forward like a battering ram, Evelyn moved like a feather caught inside the rising current of an inferno. Her boots barely touched the ground, each contact lasting only an instant as she converted every step into terrifying horizontal acceleration.

There was no wasted movement.

No unnecessary shift of her shoulders.

Not even the slightest hesitation.

Pshew! Pshew! Clack-clack-clack-clack!

The Agility Matrix suddenly came alive.

Sensors shrieked as thirty tracking lasers descended into an interlocking cage of crimson light. At the fifteen-meter mark, four pneumatic cannons fired simultaneously from opposite angles, their rubber rounds crossing into a deadly triangle directly in her path.

Evelyn didn’t slow down.

Not even by a fraction.

Her waist twisted with almost unnatural flexibility, her upper body slipping beneath the descending laser by less than half an inch. Her ponytail whipped through the narrow gap, yet not a single strand crossed the beam.

Before the rubber projectiles could converge, Evelyn’s rear foot touched the floor.

Step.

She disappeared from their trajectory.

A faint ripple of azure light followed in her wake as she performed the signature movement art of the Sterling family, The Azure Phoenix Feathers. Her body seemed to drift sideways through the air, sliding through the tiny gap between two incoming projectiles like a leaf caught in a powerful gale.

Thirty meters.

Forty meters.

Exactly as Evelyn had predicted, the system changed its firing cadence at the forty-meter mark. Eight cannons erupted in an irregular, stuttering barrage, filling the narrow corridor with a storm of black rubber projectiles.

Yet Evelyn’s eyes remained calm.

Clear.

Almost impossibly tranquil.

To her, the chaos around her wasn’t chaos at all.

It was simply a pattern waiting to be understood.

Evelyn leaned into a steep seventy-degree bank, her left hand brushing lightly against the smooth alloy wall as she used the contact to correct her balance. Her body twisted, spun, and dipped with frightening precision, every movement stripped down to exactly what was necessary.

There was no wasted motion.

Not a single step was larger than it needed to be, and not even a fraction of a second was lost. She wasn’t simply avoiding the attacks anymore; she moved with such perfect timing that it almost seemed as though the attacks themselves were flowing around her.

Zip—!

With one final, breathtaking leap, Evelyn cleared the remaining five meters of the corridor. It looked less like a jump and more like a moment of effortless flight, her body gliding through the air before her boots touched the terminal pressure plate with the softest possible sound.

She didn’t skid.

She didn’t roll.

Evelyn simply straightened, calmly smoothing a small fold from her sleeve. Not a single bead of sweat had appeared on her porcelain-like brow, and her breathing remained as steady as it had been when she entered the course.

Above the catwalk, the digital display suddenly went black.

For two full seconds, nothing appeared on the screen.

The main processor was recalculating the telemetry.

Then the darkness vanished.

Three enormous golden letters erupted across the display, shining so brightly that several students instinctively raised their hands to shield their eyes.

SSS.

The stadium went silent.

"Candidate Evelyn Sterling."

For the first time, the automated voice seemed almost subdued.

"Run time: 3.12 seconds. Laser breaches: 0. Kinetic impacts: 0. Final Evaluation: SSS."

"Three point one two seconds?!"

A municipal examiner sitting inside the VIP box suddenly crushed the porcelain tea cup in his hand. Scalding tea spilled across his trousers, but he didn’t even seem to notice.

"Sixty meters through a military-grade suppression grid in just over three seconds?"

His voice rose with disbelief.

"Zero laser breaches. Zero kinetic impacts. That’s not high-school agility!"

He stared at the display as though the number itself had become impossible to understand.

"That’s the movement profile of an advanced Martial Master!"

"The Azure Phoenix..."

An elderly general slowly rose from his seat, his usually composed expression replaced by genuine awe. His eyes remained fixed on Evelyn, who was already walking calmly away from the finish line.

"Her soul power naturally harmonizes with the surrounding air currents."

He exhaled slowly.

"She’s not fighting the resistance of the environment."

A faint smile appeared on his weathered face.

"She’s riding it."

His gaze sharpened.

"A true monster has been born in our city."

The entire stadium rose to its feet.

Applause, deafening cheers, and excited whistles crashed down from the bleachers like an avalanche. Even the usually expressionless military adjutants on the catwalk struggled to maintain their professional composure, their eyes wide as they stared at the young woman who had just rewritten the record books of the provincial military base.

Evelyn stepped through the exit turnstile with the same calm expression she had worn before entering the course. The roaring crowd seemed to have nothing to do with her as her clear gaze swept across the cheering students and stunned examiners.

Then her eyes found Lucian.

He was leaning against the far railing with both hands tucked casually into his pockets.

Evelyn raised one eyebrow.

There was no need for words.

The faint challenge in her eyes said everything.

Top that if you can.

Lucian stared at her for a moment before letting out a helpless sigh. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, already feeling a headache coming on.

Three point one two seconds...

Woman, are you trying to scare these poor old examiners into early retirement?

"Next candidate!"

The chief examiner’s thunderous voice suddenly cut through the celebration. He cleared his throat aggressively, as if forcing his vocal cords back into working order, then glanced down at his clipboard.

His eyes narrowed.

"Candidate 003..."

He paused.

"Lucian!"

The deafening cheers that had shaken the stadium moments earlier died almost comically fast.

A strange silence settled over the arena.

Then came the whispers.

A few scattered snickers rose from the eastern stands, quickly followed by skeptical murmurs.

"Here comes the inflated balloon."

"He punched hard because the Sterling family stuffed him with medicine. Let’s see how that bloated body handles an actual agility grid."

Another student laughed under his breath.

"Agility requires refined reflexes and proper movement techniques. You can’t swallow a pill and suddenly become nimble."

He glanced toward the starting area.

"He’ll probably get pelted into a bruised pig before he even reaches twenty meters."

Near the medical paddock, Eric Vance stood with an ice pack pressed against his ribs. The pain was still throbbing beneath his uniform, but the sight of Lucian being called forward brought a vicious smile to his face.

His eyes followed Lucian toward the starting line.

Eric’s fingers tightened around the ice pack.

upcoming wilderness trial, but not so good that people started asking questions about where his strength had really come from.

He needed to look talented.

But not terrifying.

An A-plus.

The answer came to him almost instantly.

Fast enough to impress them, but still believable for a heavily sponsored street brawler who has been fed expensive tonics.

That was the perfect balance.