In a split second, Philip shifted his philosophy. He stopped fighting the iron and started fighting the air.

Using a master level redirection technique, Philip suddenly loosened his grip on the back end of his wooden weapon. As Maddy’s greatsword pressed down, he didn’t resist; he pivoted his lead foot inward and performed a rare technique. He allowed the tip of his wooden weapon to dip toward the floor, letting Maddy’s heavy blade slide harmlessly off the side of his stick.

The sudden loss of resistance should have sent Maddy stumbling forward, but she adjusted her weight.

"No... I cannot let it end this fast!"

But Philip didn’t give her the chance to reset. With a lightning fast motion, a fan like flick of the wrist, Philip whipped the wooden weapon around in an arc. He didn’t aim for her sword or her shield. He aimed for the small of her lead knee, a strike meant to disable, not kill.

"I apologize, girl. But this ends...now!"

His weapon whistled through the air, but Maddy had already anticipated the trajectory. She didn’t jump back; instead, she leaned into the movement, using the very momentum Philip had redirected to spin her entire body.

The force of the collision compelled Philip to skip backward three paces to regain his breath. He was sweating now, the gray hair at his temples damp. He looked down at his hands; they were shaking.

It wasn’t just the physical shock of the block—it was the realization that an F rank applicant had not only read his intent but had used his own momentum against him with the precision of a master.

Philip panted, his eyes never leaving Maddy’s.

"You handle that iron like it’s an extension of your own bone," he breathed. "That heavy sword... that shield... most beginners would have tipped over the moment I redirected their weight. But you? You’re anchored. It’s like you’ve wielded those weapons a thousand times before. Or I might say... you’ve used them in war."

Maddy felt a sharp jolt of surprise. For a moment, her grip on the heavy iron hilt tightened. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

"Does he see through me already?"

She wondered, her mind raced back to the cave, the memory of harvesting monsters in the cave.

"War? If you mean a war against the hunger of a village, then yes. I’ve spent years hunting monsters in the woods just to keep my family fed. I suppose the forest is its own kind of battlefield if you stay in it long enough."

It was a half truth—a convenient lie to cover the tracks of a demigod princess’s muscle memory. As she spoke, she could see the faint red lines of her own deception through her Divine Eyes. On the inside, however, her estimation of the man shifted.

"This gray haired old man... he reminds me of those strict high school lecturers. The kind who carries a heavy stick and doesn’t hesitate to slap your desk or your hand the moment you stop paying attention to the lesson. He’s sharp. He can read a person’s entire history just by how they shift their weight."

Philip gave her a sharp, piercing look, that half truth story seemed to have struck a chord with him.

"Hunting... right. That is the ultimate forge. That adrenaline—the kind where no training or special instructor is needed because the only lesson is survival. You grab a weapon and you strike, or you die. It’s the purest way to master any blade."

Maddy let out a quiet, inward sigh.

"Woah... did he actually buy it? Gosh, this man is... surprisingly easy to lie to when you give him a narrative he likes! Well, I’ve got to hand it to that young man. His fairy tales actually inspired me to come up with a decent one of my own."

She cleared her throat, a subtle signal that, in her mind, the combat was over. That recognition from Philip was exactly what she had been angling for—the key to unlocking the gate of this trial.

She lowered her guard slightly and asked softly,

"Uhm... so, does that mean I pass?"

Philip didn’t answer immediately. He straightened his posture, the wooden weapon still held loosely in his hand, and looked around the room. The weight of his gaze returned to Maddy, no longer testing her strength, but evaluating her potential. He let out a final, huffing breath, the tension finally leaving his shoulders.

"Ten whole years... I have watched and tested thousands of mediocre, arrogant applicants who dared to boast that they had a bloodline—a family dynasty of known adventurers. Yet... I have never felt this way with them."

With a fluid motion, Philip reached over his shoulder. There was a faint clack of wood as he drew a second weapon from the leather harness on his back. He now stood with a weapon in each hand, crossing them in front of his chest in a deadly X.

"You remind me why I chose to become an examiner in the first place... It’s because what this guild needs is not the borrowed flames of ancestors, but the raw talent of a person’s own hands."

The air in the training hall seemed to sharpen. The dual wielding stance changed everything—his reach, his speed, and his redirection capabilities were now doubled. He wasn’t just an instructor anymore; he was a combatant in his prime.

"I’ll let you pass, if you survive me... for thirty seconds."

A ripple of stunned silence washed over the onlookers before a chorus of frantic whispers broke out. The other examiners, who had been lazily overseeing other applicants, stopped for a moment.

"Did... did Philip just draw his other Arnis?"

"I don’t believe it... He’s actually serious. Look at his stance—that’s the Lightning Stick style. I haven’t seen him draw both sticks since... when was it?"

"Ten years."

An older guild member answered, his voice trembling with awe.

"The last time Philip drew his second Arnis was when he tested the Hero who appeared ten years ago. Not once since then has an applicant forced him to use his full technique."