“You’ve got to be kidding me! She’s just a kid!”

  The loud voice rang out abruptly within the group, drawing everyone’s attention in an instant.

  “I’ve been a soldier for over ten years. I’ve survived bloody battles you can’t even imagine—and now I’m supposed to take orders from a kid who doesn’t even come up to my chest?!”

  Eryndra’s brow furrowed. Her piercing gaze immediately found the source of the disturbance.

  A towering man, easily over two meters tall, stood fuming in the center of the recruits.

  His long, curly hair fell to his shoulders, and a thick, tangled beard covered most of his face.

  He was clad in worn leather armor, clearly battle-tested.

  One of his companions tried to de-escalate the situation, speaking in a low voice.

  “Careful, Gorran. She’s a Class-7 adventurer. She must’ve proven herself…”

  Gorran, clearly irritated, ignored him and raised his voice even more.

  “A runt! Barely taller than a chair! And I’m supposed to take orders from her?!

  I’ve fought ten years on battlefields where every day was a struggle to survive.

  This whole training is a joke! I’ve got nothing to learn from some kid who probably struggles to hold a sword!”

  The silence that followed was heavy—oppressive.

  All eyes turned to Eryndra.

  Some recruits looked intrigued. Others uncomfortable.

  A few wore amused smiles, clearly waiting to see how the petite instructor would handle the open challenge.

  Eryndra took a slow breath, keeping her posture upright and her expression unreadable.

  Then, with steady, purposeful steps, she descended the platform and walked toward Gorran.

  Her presence exuded calm authority, as though she were stepping into an invisible battlefield.

  Standing before him, she had to tilt her head slightly to meet his eyes—but she didn’t falter.

  “Gorran, is it?” she asked, her tone neutral, her gaze locked onto his.

  “Yeah. And what do you want, kid?” he shot back, flashing a smug grin.

  Eryndra didn’t blink.

  Her voice was soft—but sharp as a blade.

  “Ten years on the battlefield, you say? Impressive.”

  She tilted her head slightly in polite acknowledgment—

  but her next words landed with surgical precision.

  “Yet here you are, standing in a beginner’s line… seeking approval from the very ‘kid’ you’re mocking.

  If you were truly as accomplished as you claim, why are you here?”

  Gorran stiffened, jaw clenched—but Eryndra didn’t give him a chance to reply.

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  “I’m not questioning your experience. Or your strength.

  I’m questioning your arrogance.

  If you want to prove you’re worthy of being here—or of challenging me—I’ll give you an option.”

  She rested her hand on the hilt of the dagger at her belt, a faint smile touching her lips.

  “Show us what ten years of battlefield experience is worth.

  I invite you to a demonstration.

  If you can land a single scratch on me, I’ll let you walk out of here, untrained and with my apology.”

  A wave of murmurs swept through the group.

  Some exchanged nervous glances, others leaned forward with anticipation.

  Gorran, caught off guard by her boldness, let out a booming laugh.

  “Seriously? A demonstration? You against me?

  Fine, little girl. Just don’t cry when you get hurt.”

  Eryndra took a single step back, her clear voice ringing through the air:

  “Then let’s begin. In front of everyone.

  Perhaps this will serve as your first lesson.”

  The recruits quickly stepped aside, forming a wide circle around them.

  Tension crackled in the air.

  The duel had begun—and every eye was locked on this clash of David versus Goliath.

  Eryndra locked eyes with her opponent, a cold, unwavering resolve gleaming in her gaze.

  This confrontation didn’t worry her—it was a perfect opportunity.

  “Unlucky for you,” she thought, watching Gorran, the massive brute. “You’re about to become an example.”

  Gorran, overflowing with confidence, immediately shifted into an aggressive stance.

  He spread his legs slightly, opened his thick arms wide, and clenched his fists, ready to crush his target.

  “So, ready, little girl?” he growled with a sneer.

  Eryndra simply gave a slight nod—barely noticeable, but more than enough.

  The giant charged forward like a rampaging beast freed from its cage.

  His sheer momentum sent a ripple of fear through the crowd—several recruits instinctively stepped back, startled by the force barreling toward the small instructor.

  “Not even a stone wall could survive that,” someone whispered in awe.

  And yet—Eryndra barely moved.

  With utter calm, she shifted her left foot back and tilted her body ever so slightly forward.

  One hand remained behind her back. The other stretched out, palm facing the oncoming storm.

  A faint glimmer of magic sparked at her fingertip—barely visible.

  Gorran, convinced of his imminent triumph, was nearly upon her.

  His arms opened wide, ready to grab her—

  And then, everything stopped.

  His charge froze mid-air, as if an invisible force had seized him.

  Some in the crowd had caught the brief flash at Eryndra’s fingertip, just as she brushed her finger against Gorran’s outstretched hand.

  A touch so minimal it was nearly imperceptible—yet it had completely paralyzed him.

  With a swift, fluid motion, Eryndra pivoted, seized Gorran’s extended arm, and with a surge of mana glowing faintly around her legs, reinforced her body in an instant.

  She redirected his massive momentum with effortless precision—

  and slammed the giant into the ground.

  The impact shook the courtyard, kicking up a cloud of dust.

  When it cleared, Gorran lay unconscious, flat on his back, eyes rolled back in his head.

  Silence followed—then erupted into applause and shouts of disbelief.

  “Incredible!”

  “She floored him like a child!”

  “Her level is insane!”

  Murmurs turned into awe. Doubts vanished. Respect flooded the air.

  Eryndra ignored the cheers.

  She calmly brushed the dust off her uniform, then turned to face the group, her stern gaze sweeping across the recruits.

  “See? Size and noise mean nothing in the real world.

  If you want to become true adventurers, leave your egos behind.

  Only skill and discipline matter here.”

  She pointed to two men in the crowd.

  “You two—take him to the infirmary. He’ll be fine.

  The rest of you, form two lines. Immediately.

  Your training starts now.”

  The whispers vanished.

  In their place came swift, orderly movement.

  Everyone now understood:

  Despite her small stature and delicate appearance—this woman was not to be taken lightly.