Another day of crimson skies dawned, and the Mysterious Academy's arena was already alive with whispers before the trials even began.
The students had started calling it "Judgment Day"—each new sunrise beneath the Hunter's Moon felt like a divine sentence waiting to be passed.
The moment Aaron Aetherwyn entered the viewing deck, the crowd fell into dead silence.
He walked casually, adjusting his sleeves, hair tousled slightly from sleep, and sipping from a fresh cup of tea. That was all it took for three first-year candidates to murmur last rites.
Aaron glanced down at the field and sighed. "I hope today is less stressful."
That sentence alone sent one student fleeing the staging area.
In the seats nearby, Lily Virelith pinched the bridge of her nose.
"You keep saying that and they keep getting more terrified."
"I just mean I want fewer injuries," Aaron replied honestly.
"Then stop talking like a harbinger of calamity," Lily muttered. "Please."
Nova, seated beside her, giggled. "Oh no, let him. I think it adds flair."
Aaron watched as a young girl stumbled into the field.
The announcer called her name. "Candidate: Eyla Freen. Opponent: Dual-Tusk Mantacore."
The beast emerged with a snarl, tail lashing and spines gleaming in the red sky. Eyla trembled. Her wand shook in her hands. But she stood her ground.
Aaron noticed her stance was slightly off. He frowned.
Eyla noticed that frown.
She immediately dropped her wand and raised her hands. "I—I FORFEIT!"
The instructors didn't even look surprised anymore.
Aaron blinked. "I just thought she was leaning too much on her left foot…"
Behind him, a junior instructor whispered, "Even his observations are lethal."
The second match was announced, and this time, the crowd braced as a large, broad-shouldered student named Bross entered the ring.
Unlike the others, Bross wasn't afraid.
He was overconfident.
He puffed his chest, swung a massive axe, and declared, "I will show the Demon Professor what real strength is!"
Everyone gasped.
Aaron, halfway through sipping his tea, paused mid-gulp.
Lily turned, shocked. "He just said what?"
Nova leaned forward with excitement. "This will be fun."
The moment the duel began, Bross charged, roaring, and swung his axe with the force of an avalanche. His opponent, a mana-armored boar beast, met him head-on.
The crowd held its breath.
Then came the echo.
A single loud crack across the arena.
Not from the beast.
But from the axe.
It shattered in Bross's hands.
The force of Aaron's passive aura had compressed the ambient mana around the field so tightly that enchanted metals were beginning to destabilize.
Bross stared at the shards in his hands.
Aaron frowned. "Poor quality weapon?"
Bross dropped to his knees. "Forgive me! I did not mean to offend the High Professor! I only sought your attention, not your wrath!"
Aaron looked up, mouth half-open. "My what?"
Lily was already burying her face in her palms.
Nova clapped slowly. "Well, he got your attention."
The match was declared void. Bross was escorted out on a stretcher—not from injuries, but from extreme mana-induced stress.
The day continued with more battles, but the pattern was unshakable.
Even when Aaron said nothing, his mere existence made the students believe they were under divine scrutiny.
Some fought with desperation, trying to escape his gaze. Others fought harder, hoping to earn it.
By noon, several instructors had begun privately grading based on who lasted longer under Aaron's "invisible pressure."
Lily updated the scoreboards with shaking hands. "They've started categorizing him as an exam section…"
Kaelen approached during a break and stood silently beside her.
"You realize," he said slowly, "he's unintentionally changed the very format of our combat trials."
She didn't respond.
Because it was true.
Aaron had become a trial all his own.
And still, he had no idea.
Later that day, when Nova brought Aaron a small pastry, he smiled slightly and said, "You know, I think the students are improving. Fewer people passed out today."
Nova laughed. "That's because the weaker ones already dropped out."
Aaron blinked. "Oh."
In the corner of the arena stands, Axel had resumed writing.
> "Theory #46: He has begun culling the weak through sheer presence."
"Theory #47: His smile is the final stage of judgment."
"Theory #48: Survive. Observe. Offer tea tribute."
The bell rang for the final match of the day.
Aaron leaned forward, curious.
The next candidate was someone who hadn't been notable in earlier rounds—a quiet boy named Jarn. Short, forgettable, always trailing behind the others.
But the moment he stepped onto the field, he didn't shake or flinch.
He looked straight at Aaron.
Aaron tilted his head.
Jarn bowed.
"Thank you, Professor Aetherwyn," he called, voice calm. "Your silence has guided me."
Aaron froze. "Huh?"
"I realized… to survive, I must not fear death, but understand it."
Aaron turned to Lily. "What is he talking about?"
"You've become a symbol of death," she replied flatly.
Jarn activated a gravity-based martial spell and launched into a flawless set of maneuvers. With speed and precision, he subdued the beast in under twenty seconds.
When the fight ended, the entire arena was silent.
Then came the applause.
Not just from the instructors—but from the candidates.
Not out of celebration.
But respect.
And fear.
Aaron stood awkwardly, unsure what to do.
Lily walked past him and whispered, "You didn't mean to do this, but you've become their god of war."
He scratched the back of his head. "I just wanted to teach theory classes…"
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End of Chapter 35