The Duke's Worthless Daughter Awakens an SSS+ Guide Core

The relentless barrage of crimson energy beams finally came to an abrupt halt as the three-minute testing timer expired. One after another, the floating tactical drones ceased firing and drifted back to their original positions atop the slender metallic poles.

The intense scarlet light faded completely from their optical sensors as they entered standby mode, leaving an almost unsettling silence hanging over the massive arena. Several completely exhausted candidates immediately dropped to one knee, desperately struggling to steady their ragged breathing.

Others leaned heavily against the transparent safety barriers surrounding their platforms, sweat pouring down their flushed faces after surviving the intense assault. A few unfortunate applicants simply stared blankly at the bright warning lights flashing above their stations, completely devastated by their sudden failure.

The flashing indicators spelled out their immediate disqualification from the academy admissions process in bold lettering. These defeated individuals slowly gathered their belongings, their dreams of joining the elite ranks crushed in a matter of minutes. Meanwhile, the remaining survivors tried to compose themselves before the final tallies were officially broadcast across the stadium.

Merianah remained standing quietly in the absolute center of Platform Twenty-Seven, her posture completely upright and stable. Her breathing remained remarkably slow and controlled, showing no signs of the immense physical strain that had broken the others. Although her standard uniform was slightly disheveled and a few stray strands of silver hair clung to her forehead, she exhibited no panic or fatigue.

She looked up at the quiet machines with a detached sense of evaluation, finding the entire exercise somewhat lacking in intensity. To her, a mere three minutes of predictable laser fire was far too short to truly test a warrior’s limits.

"This simulation lacks the chaotic malice of a real battlefield," she thought to herself, remembering much harsher trials from her past life.

A loud electronic chime drew everyone’s attention back to the sky as the automated system finished processing the final data. The massive holographic screens hovering above the stadium flickered dynamically, projecting the final statistics of the reaction assessment across the entire facility.

[Phase Three: Final Statistics]

[Assessment Metric] [Candidate Count]

[Perfect Evasion] - [5 Candidates]

[Minor Hits Registered] - [45 Candidates]

[Major Hits Registered] - [115 Candidates]

[Total Eliminated] - [50 Candidates]

A low, collective murmur quickly swept through the viewing stands as the spectators analyzed the remarkably low survival rates. The aristocratic families and instructors alike realized that the reaction test had been significantly harder than any of the previous phases.

"Only five people managed to avoid getting hit a single time," an older gentleman remarked to his companion in the upper tier.

The specific names and identification numbers of those five successful candidates slowly materialized directly beneath the statistical breakdown. The glowing text drew the eyes of everyone in the arena, highlighting the elite performers of the morning session. Merianah’s designation sat prominently near the top of the short list, cementing her achievement.

[Candidate No. 8]

[Candidate No. 27 (Merianah Emperion)]

[Candidate No. 43]

[Candidate No. 156]

[Candidate No. 211]

Kaelen Viremont instinctively searched the glowing display, his eyes darting frantically across the lines of text in search of his own number. Unfortunately, his identification was nowhere to be found among the flawless performers listed on the main screen.

A small warning indicator hovering directly above his own platform confirmed that the system had registered two distinct hits during the chaotic finale.

His jaw tightened instantly as a wave of bitter frustration washed over his features, ruining his previously composed demeanor. He had completely failed to achieve the perfect score his prestigious family expected of him.

"This is absolutely impossible," he muttered under his breath, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

He turned his gaze toward Platform Twenty-Seven, staring at the silver-haired young woman who stood there with complete indifference. The reality that she had outperformed him in consecutive trials was a incredibly bitter pill to swallow. He could not understand how a disgraced noblewoman could suddenly possess such unnatural defensive capabilities.

High above the bustling arena floor, a group of senior instructors had gathered tightly around the central tactical display console. Dozens of high-speed video recordings replayed the test from multiple angles, offering a comprehensive view of the applicants’ movements. Yet, despite the immense variety of data available, every single monitoring screen eventually returned to the exact same subject.

The technical crew isolated Merianah’s footage, magnifying her movements to allow for a comprehensive structural analysis. The veteran officers watched the playback in complete silence, their expressions growing increasingly serious with every passing second.

"Is this an extraordinary display of raw reaction speed?" one instructor asked thoughtfully, rubbing his chin as he scrutinized the telemetry. He had never seen an academy applicant move with such fluid grace under a multi-directional assault.

The tactical commander standing next to him slowly shook his head, rejecting the simple explanation immediately.

"No, this exceeds the biological limits of normal reaction speed entirely," he replied firmly. "She is performing at a level that shouldn’t be possible for someone her age."

The senior technician enlarged Merianah’s specific footage on the primary monitor, slowing the playback down frame by frame for closer inspection.

The detailed analysis revealed that she never made a single wasted movement or lost her balance during the trial. More importantly, she never had to correct her trajectory mid-step to escape an incoming energy bolt.

Every single step she took across the platform was already the mathematically correct choice before the hazard even arrived. It appeared as though she possessed an intimate understanding of the machine’s internal targeting algorithms. The younger instructors in the room frowned deeply, completely baffled by the flawless display of evasion.

"Then what exactly are we looking at right now?" a younger officer inquired, turning toward his superiors for guidance. He gestured toward the screen where Merianah easily bypassed a triple-laser convergence without breaking her stride.

A heavy silence settled across the entire command center as the staff contemplated the technical data before them. No one wanted to voice the impossible conclusions their minds were forcing them to consider. Finally, Colonel Serena Vale stepped forward to break the oppressive quietness of the room.

"Look closely at this specific sequence," Serena instructed, pausing the recording precisely one frame before a drone discharged its weapon.

The image froze instantly, capturing the exact moment the mechanical unit initialized its firing sequence. Merianah had already begun shifting her weight to the side, anticipating the threat perfectly.

"The energy beam had not even been fired when she initiated her defensive maneuver," Serena pointed out to the gathered officers. "She moved well before the actual attack existed in physical space."

Several senior instructors exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of the colonel’s observation sinking in. They knew the profound implications of an individual possessing that specific caliber of battlefield awareness. Serena folded her arms across her chest, her sharp eyes reflecting the cool light of the frozen monitor.

"Normal reaction begins only after a clear danger appears to the senses," Serena explained, her tone completely even. "However, true combat intuition begins long before the danger is actually born."

The room fell completely silent once more as the officers processed the profound distinction she had just made. A veteran Sentinel instructor, who bore the scars of numerous border conflicts, finally spoke up in a hushed tone.

"I have only witnessed instincts of that caliber from elite soldiers returning alive after decades on the frontlines," he admitted.

Serena nodded slowly, her expression remaining deadpan as she acknowledged his accurate assessment.

"So have I," she responded quietly, her gaze never wavering from the silver-haired girl’s recorded image. "And that is exactly why this particular situation concerns me so deeply."

The senior technician looked thoroughly confused by her ominous statement, tilting his head in bewilderment.

"Why would a performance this spectacular concern you, Colonel?" he asked, tapping his stylus against the console.

Serena tapped the digital interface to bring up Merianah’s official background profile on the main screen.

"She is only eighteen years old," the colonel noted, highlighting the official documentation for the room to see. "According to these records, she has absolutely no history of military service or combat deployment."

She paused briefly, allowing the stark contrast between the records and reality to sink into their minds.

"So tell me," she continued, her sharp eyes sweeping across the silent room of tactical experts. "Where exactly did an eighteen-year-old noblewoman learn to move like someone who has spent an entire lifetime surviving brutal wars?"

No one in the command center could offer a definitive answer to her haunting question. The room remained perfectly still because no logical explanation existed within the parameters of her official file. The mystery surrounding Candidate Twenty-Seven had only deepened following the completion of the physical trials.

Far below the command deck, entirely unaware of the intense discussion unfolding above her, Merianah quietly stepped off the platform. The initial physical examination phase of the admissions process had officially come to an end for all participants.

"The real test begins now," she murmured to herself, stretching her arms slightly as she walked toward the exit.

She could feel the faint, invisible weight of distant surveillance tracking her movements across the arena floor. It was clear that someone of significant authority had started paying very close attention to her every action. She welcomed the scrutiny with a calm mind, ready to face whatever challenges the academy chose to throw her way next.