"The losers will be eliminated."
The words dropped like a guillotine. A pulse of light exploded beneath the students' feet, and in an instant, the entire class was swallowed by a spatial warp.
They reappeared in a grand arena beneath the academy—a coliseum forged from ancient stone, veined with glowing runes that pulsed like a slumbering heart. Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
> "Was that spatial magic…?"
"The Headmistress is a four-star sorceress… she moved us all without a single chant."
Joe—Ashenix—stood silent, eyes narrowing. His voice was low, almost inaudible,
> "She's far stronger than she pretends to be."
From atop a hovering platform, the Headmistress raised her hand. Massive training arenas began to emerge from the floor with mechanical precision, stone shifting as if responding to her will.
Alexander, her assistant, floated down from above, landing in the center of the platform. His sharp blue uniform contrasted his relaxed demeanor.
> "Welcome to the real beginning," he announced. "Today's tests are combat-based. Each duel is determined by either forcing your opponent out of the ring or making them surrender. Killing is strictly forbidden. Any injury can be healed… unless you make it lethal. No weapons, magical tools, or outside aids allowed."
A pause.
> "Fight with your magic. Fight with your will."
Joe adjusted the gloves on his hands.
> "Looks like I'll need to use a little of his power…"
---
Whispers echoed as the first fight was called. Eli, a first-year elf with snow-white hair and long, elegant ears, stepped into the ring. Her youthful face belied her sharp gaze. She summoned a twisting lattice of vines beneath her bare feet.
A group of students muttered from the sidelines.
> "That's Eli, right? One of the student council members."
"Yeah, she's strong. But have you heard? She refuses to even speak to humans."
"Figures. Typical high-elf racism."
Joe—still quiet—watched.
> "Even the plants obey her like pets."
Her opponent barely stood a chance. Within seconds, roots coiled around his legs, and a single sharp whip of a thorned vine flung him out of the ring. He hit the wall with a thud.
She bowed wordlessly and left the ring.
---
Alfred stepped up next. A hybrid—half-elf, half-human. He was an anomaly, spurned by both his bloodlines.
The students whispered:
> "Isn't that the halfbreed…?"
"Yeah. I heard he can use both fire and water magic… but he never uses fire."
A sphere of water circled him like a loyal guardian. His battle was graceful—fluid and defensive. He dodged, manipulated moisture from the air, and gently pushed his opponent to the edge with a wave that felt more like mercy than victory.
Joe watched in silence.
> "He hides a fire that could burn this world... yet he chooses calm."
---
Jonathan entered the ring next—a towering ghoul with dense muscles and a glare like steel. Second-year, infamous among the students for his volatile temper.
> "It's the brute."
"They say he bullies weaker kids."
"Never proven though."
His opponent was barely able to stand against the relentless rushes of Jonathan's reinforced physique. Within moments, the student stumbled and fell outside the ring.
But Jonathan didn't smile.
Inside, he burned with doubt.
> "Every ghoul has a secondary trait. I have none. What kind of warrior am I... if I'm incomplete?"
He stepped down, alone in his strength.
---
Linda descended like a vision of winter. The elf in white robes, her hair veiled, eyes serene.
> "That's the Saintess of the Church."
"The head of the student council."
She raised her hand. Frost bloomed beneath her steps. Her opponent tried to resist but found the arena floor turned to ice. A glowing orb of silver light enveloped him, lifting him gently and casting him outside the ring like a falling snowflake.
She didn't gloat.
She only turned and walked away.
And for a brief moment, her eyes brushed past Joe. She hesitated. Her breath caught.
> "That boy... there's something wrong about him…"
---
Finally, it was Joe's turn.
His opponent: Richard, an elf with a permanent sneer and control over the earth.
> "Another human?"
"Time to bury the trash."
The ground beneath Joe's feet lurched. Spires of stone shot toward him.
Joe didn't move. At first.
Then he exhaled.
> (Why do I bother?)
(Everywhere I go, the same eyes… disgust… superiority… like I don't belong.)
His cloak burned away.
A strange golden-white aura ignited around him.
He vanished—a blur of fire and radiant wind.
The audience gasped as he sidestepped the stone lances and closed the distance. With one punch, infused with golden heat, he shattered Richard's defenses and sent him flying.
Silence.
Then whispers.
> "That wasn't normal magic…"
"What was that glow?"
"Did he just… beat Richard?"
---
After several more duels, the training session finally came to an end.
Alexander descended once more, his presence cutting through the murmurs.
> "This concludes the first day. You have one week to prepare for the written exams. Study well... because the losers will be eliminated."
A chorus of outrage echoed from a corner of the students.
> "That's not fair!"
"We deserve another chance!"
Alexander unsheathed his sword. Lightning pulsed from its edge.
> "You stand on academy property. Resistance means treason."
Silence fell like a dropped blade.
No one dared move.
---
Far above them, in the shadows of the academy's spires, a council watched.
Faces obscured, their voices masked.
> "He showed the spark."
"Too soon."
"What of the seal?"
A faint rumble echoed from beneath the academy's lowest levels.
A beast stirred in its sleep.
Not a dragon.
Something older.
Something watching.
---
Later that night, Joe lay on the narrow bed in his dormitory, staring at the ceiling. The faint glow of magical lanterns flickered on the stone walls.
> (If I am light… then what kind?)
(Power? Morality? Friendship? Or something else?)
(I have one week until the written trials. One week until the "Bride of the City" festival. One week… until something breaks.)
His eyes slowly drifted shut.
> "They say he wasn't born evil. He chose it… when he saw what the light truly was."
Then silence returned.
And sleep followed.
But deep inside him, something stirred.
Not magic. Not power.
Something ancient. Watching. Waiting.
---
End of Chapter III