The tournament grounds were quieter now, but tension filled the air like a storm about to break.
The battles were done.
Now came the moment everyone had been waiting for—the picks.
Zayn stood near the back of the gathered crowd, watching the rising platforms that hovered over the arena. Thirteen of them, carved from stone, metal, or strange glowing crystal, each marked with a glowing crest.
Atop those platforms, the Mystic Legion Captains stood.
Thirteen of the strongest mages in the land. Some looked young, others were older, but every single one of them radiated power.
"This is it…" Zayn muttered under his breath.
Beside him, Kael, his older brother, adjusted his collar. "Finally. They took long enough with the setup."
Lyra shifted nervously near them, her hands gripping the edge of her cloak tightly. "I've only ever read about this part… I never thought I'd actually be here."
Their eyes were drawn to the center stage where the tournament's announcer—a stern, sharp-eyed man named Master Alden—stepped forward.
His voice boomed through the arena.
"By the authority of the Mystic Legions, we now begin the Selection Ceremony."
The crowd fell silent.
Alden gestured to the captains. "Each captain may choose any participant, regardless of their magic affinity or status. Whether you wield fire, wind, spatial, or even poison magic—your fate lies in their hands."
That caused some murmuring among the contestants.
Zayn felt a strange knot form in his chest.
He already knew this part. It had always been like this.
The Mystic Legions didn't care about affinities. Orders weren't bound by elemental magic. It all came down to who the captains wanted.
Fire mages didn't automatically go to the Crimson Fang Order, nor did ice mages have to join the Frostbite Howl. It was about strength, potential, and personal choice.
But even so… everyone knew there were still certain unspoken expectations.
"You look nervous," Kael muttered to Zayn with a smirk. "Worried no one'll pick you?"
Zayn grunted. "Not worried about me."
Kael's smirk widened. "Good. I'd hate to see you shaking like a leaf in front of them."
Lyra let out a soft laugh despite herself. "Honestly, I think everyone here is nervous."
The first captain stepped forward on their platform.
She was a woman with sharp golden eyes, dressed in silver armor trimmed with red. Her long auburn hair was tied back, and her gaze swept over the crowd like a hawk.
Captain Selene of the Crimson Fang Order.
Her voice was calm but commanding. "I'll begin."
She raised her hand, pointing to a tall boy with wild green hair near the front.
"You. Darin Crestfall. Step forward."
The crowd whispered.
Darin's face lit up in shock as he stumbled forward. "M-me?"
"You impressed me," Selene said, her eyes steady. "Your trap magic was sharp and effective. You'll fit well."
Without another word, Darin walked up the stairs toward her platform, still stunned.
Zayn's heart pounded faster.
That was it. That was how fast your life could change.
The second captain moved next—a tall, thin man cloaked in black and violet, his mask covering the lower half of his face.
Captain Maelik of the Obsidian Shade Order.
"I'll take… Soren Mavren. Shadow magic. Controlled, precise."
Another participant was chosen, and the ceremony moved on.
One by one, the captains called out names, some familiar, others unknown.
Zayn noticed something else.
Most of the participants being picked weren't nobles. Some were commoners. A few, like Darin, were even outcasts like him.
Lyra leaned in and whispered, "They really don't care about status…"
Zayn nodded slightly but said nothing.
Then came the tenth platform.
A woman stood there, dressed in a deep blue coat embroidered with silver lines. Her hair was short and silver, and her eyes gleamed like ice.
Captain Freya of the Azure Gale Order.
"I will take… Lyra Emvalis."
Lyra froze.
Zayn turned to her, eyes wide.
"M-me?" she gasped aloud, stepping forward without realizing it.
Captain Freya's gaze was firm but kind. "You've shown mastery over water magic, and your instincts during combat were strong."
Lyra hesitated, glancing back at Zayn and Kael.
He gave her a small nod.
She swallowed hard and walked toward the stairs, her steps shaky.
Zayn watched her climb the stairs slowly. Her hands were trembling, but there was pride in her eyes.
The eleventh captain moved next—Captain Darius of the Emerald Veil Order, an older man with a rough beard and green robes.
"I'll take… Kael Veyre."
Kael didn't even flinch. He cracked a grin, muttering under his breath, "Finally."
Zayn gave him a look. "Try not to annoy them too fast."
Kael just chuckled and walked off confidently toward the captain's platform.
One after another, participants were called.
Zayn's remaining siblings—Eira and Ryn—were also chosen.
Eira, who wielded wind magic, was picked by the Golden Tempest Order, her calm, steady nature catching their captain's eye.
Ryn, with his fierce fire magic, was chosen by none other than the Crimson Fang Order, alongside Darin. He practically sprinted up to the platform, grinning wide.
Zayn stood there alone now.
Everyone important to him had been chosen.
And yet… his name remained unspoken.
The captains looked over the remaining participants.
Whispers filled the arena again.
"Why hasn't anyone picked him yet?"
"Isn't that the boy with the strange grimoire?"
"Outcast. No one will take that risk."
Zayn kept his face still, but his hands were clenched tight.
Then, the last platform stirred.
The thirteenth captain stepped forward.
Captain Lucan of the Void Serpent Order.
The air around him felt heavy, as though it sucked in sound itself.
Lucan's face was hidden beneath a dark hood, his black robes trailing like smoke.
He raised a hand toward Zayn, and a chilling quiet swept through the entire arena.
"You."
His voice was like distant thunder.
"Zayn Veyre."
The name echoed across the arena.
Everyone's eyes turned toward Zayn.
Whispers began again—hushed but sharp.
"The Void Serpent Order…"
"Is he really choosing him?"
"The boy with the empty grimoire…"
Zayn's heart pounded in his chest.
Captain Lucan's voice remained steady. "Your magic is unlike anything I've seen. You will join us."
Zayn's feet refused to move.
The thirteenth order. The Void Serpent. Known for its darkness and its feared members.
He glanced toward Kael, who frowned, clearly not thrilled.
Lyra was watching from afar, worry written across her face.
Zayn let out a breath and took a step forward.
But before he could walk, a sudden voice interrupted.
"Hold."
The voice was calm, deep, but powerful enough to silence the entire arena in an instant.
A tall figure descended from the highest balcony above the captains.
He wore robes of gold and deep violet, with a crest of twin serpents wrapped around a blazing sun. His presence was overwhelming.
Lord Maeron, a Demi-God—one of the highest-ranking rulers of the realm.
Everyone bowed instinctively as he approached.
"I will not interfere with the picks," Maeron said, his gaze locked on Lucan, "but I must ask… why choose this boy?"
Lucan's reply was simple.
"Because he is the only one who frightens me."
The arena froze at those words.
Maeron's brow lifted slightly in interest. "I see."
He turned his gaze to Zayn directly.
"You carry a burden heavier than most, boy. Choose carefully."
Zayn swallowed hard.
Then, slowly, he lifted his head.
"I'll join," he said firmly.
And with that, he began walking toward the thirteenth platform, his grimoire quietly humming at his side.
As he climbed the stairs, the whispers grew louder, but he didn't care anymore.
He was used to it.
He had been an Outcast his whole life.
It wouldn't change now.
---
Zayn stood at the foot of the stone stairs, the weight of the entire arena pressing down on him.
Then came the words—sharp, undeniable.
"I claim him," Captain Lucan said from beneath his dark hood.
The Void Serpent's crest glimmered faintly on his cloak, almost like it was watching.
Murmurs swept through the audience, growing louder with every passing breath.
Zayn didn't move.
His fingers brushed the cover of his dark, near-empty grimoire, still unsure whether to see it as a curse or a weapon.
But before he could speak, another voice drifted through the air, not loud, but clear enough to silence many.
"Are you certain?"
It was Captain Riven Kaelith of the Obsidian Talon Order, his gaze unreadable, his arms crossed lazily.
Lucan's hood shifted slightly toward him.
"I am," Lucan answered, his voice steady. "He belongs with us."
Several captains exchanged wary glances, but none stepped forward to challenge.
Even Lord Maeron remained quiet this time, his glowing eyes simply watching—curious, perhaps, but unmoved.
Master Alden swallowed hard, his voice breaking slightly. "I-It seems… no objections."
Lucan turned toward Zayn again, his tone leaving no room for denial.
"Come."
The word wrapped around Zayn's ears, cold and binding.
For a brief, wavering heartbeat, Zayn remained still.
This was the moment.
He knew what everyone thought. He wasn't supposed to belong here—not among Orders, not among the strong. He was an Outcast.
Yet, something in him—somewhere deep, in a place darker than words—pulled him toward Lucan's voice.
Slowly, step by step, Zayn walked up the stairs.
Silence thickened.
The entire arena watched as he stopped before Lucan, staring into that void-like hood.
Lucan didn't offer a hand. He simply nodded.
"Welcome to the Thirteenth Order," Lucan said, his voice like iron snapping shut.
The moment those words left his lips, the faint mark of the Void Serpent crest shimmered briefly across Zayn's skin—just over his collarbone, hidden by his shirt.
It wasn't a choice.
It was a binding.
Cheers didn't erupt. No celebration followed.
Only silence.
And then whispers—fearful, awed, uncertain.
As Lucan turned, his dark cloak swirling, Zayn followed without a word.
The captains watched them go, some with disgust, others with wary curiosity.
But none dared stop them.
Far above, Lord Maeron finally spoke, his voice quiet and almost amused.
"Well then," Maeron murmured to himself, unheard by most. "Let the chaos begin."