The hall buzzed with whispers after Elisa's announcement, tension and excitement building like a storm pressing against the walls. Two thousand out of twenty thousand. For most of them, this would be the end of the dream.
Then the air shifted.
It wasn't sound at first, but weight. Mana thickened, dense and suffocating, until every breath felt heavy. The air itself seemed to bow. A few students clutched their chests. Some dropped to their knees without even realizing it.
And then—light.
A flash like a rift tearing open split the center of the stage. When it faded, someone stood there.
Scarlet Eveningstar.
The crowd erupted in chaos — screams, gasps, even sobs.
She didn't need to speak. She didn't even need to move. Her mere presence was enough to choke the life out of the noise, to silence twenty thousand voices as if a blade had cut through their throats.
Her beauty was not the soft kind of poets. It was raw, sharpened, and dangerous. Long white hair spilled down her back in a river that shimmered faintly, strands catching the glow of magic lamps above. One golden eye burned with a light too bright to stare at for long, merciless and all-seeing. The other was hidden beneath an embroidered eyepatch of black and gold, mysterious and commanding.
Her uniform was more than clothing, it was a declaration. A sleek black military commander's suit trimmed in gold, the tailoring sharp enough to cut. A black coat clipped at her shoulders trailed behind her, embroidered with symbols only a handful in the world might dare to decipher. It wasn't just fabric; it was authority woven into thread.
The crowd could barely contain itself.
"That's Scarlet—!""The Vice Principal…""She's… she's here?""She destroyed half a basilica with a single hand.""She's the strongest person alive."
The last words carried through the hush, and none dared dispute them. Scarlet wasn't a myth. She wasn't just power whispered in taverns or penned into textbooks. She was living proof of what it meant to stand at the peak, to be untouchable.
Her gaze swept the crowd, her single golden eye like the sun cutting through storm clouds. Thousands of students flinched when it passed over them, as though the weight of her stare alone could peel back their souls and expose their worth.
And then, for the briefest instant, that eye paused. On Zane.
It was like standing naked before a blade honed to perfection. Not hatred. Not interest. Just judgment.
The silence was unbearable. The tension suffocating.
Then Scarlet took one step forward. The sound of her boot striking the stage echoed like a drumbeat, like thunder. Every heart seemed to beat in rhythm with it.
The strongest person in the world had arrived.
And finally, Scarlet Eveningstar opened her mouth to speak.
Her voice was smooth, low, and utterly indifferent. It carried across the vast orientation hall without effort, cutting through the air with precision sharper than any blade.
"Look at you," she said.
Tens of thousands stiffened as though the words had been aimed directly at them.
"You've come here from every corner of the continent. Sons of nobles, daughters of merchants. Heirs of forgotten bloodlines, gutter rats who clawed their way out of the mud. All of you," her eye swept the room, golden and merciless, "think you deserve to stand here. To claim you have a chance."
Her expression didn't change. It didn't need to. Even without a flicker of emotion, she radiated disdain. As though every single person in the hall was already beneath her notice.
"But this academy," she continued, "is not a sanctuary for dreams. It is a crucible. And those who cannot endure it will burn away into nothing."
No one dared speak. Not even a whisper.
Her boots rang against the stage as she moved forward, stopping so close to the edge that the first row of students leaned back in reflex, as though afraid she might strike.
"You have heard the numbers," Scarlet said. "Twenty thousand enter. Two thousand will remain. The rest of you will walk away broken if you can walk away at all."
A projection of light flared above the stage, an island, rugged and sprawling, surrounded by endless sea. Its terrain shifted as the projection moved: jagged cliffs, dense forests, ruins half-swallowed by vines.
"This," Scarlet said, "is where you will be tested."
Her tone didn't rise, didn't harden. It didn't need to. Her indifference was a weight heavier than fury.
"An island long abandoned. Wild. Untamed. It is filled with monsters. Weak ones. Strong ones. More than enough to drown the arrogant in their own blood."
The projection shifted, and shadows of monsters flickered across the island: wolves with cracked skulls, insectoid beasts skittering on too many legs, armored giants dragging rusted chains. The sight drew gasps, and a ripple of fear spread through the crowd.
"Here are the rules."
Scarlet's words fell like a hammer striking iron.
"You will have one day. From the moment the trial begins, we will judge you, watch your every move. To pass, you will need points. Kill to earn them. Survive to keep them."
The projection flared brighter, numbers burning across the air.
"An F-rank monster will grant you ten points." Her gaze moved across the crowd, and a smirk almost touched her lips. "If you struggle with that, leave now."
No one moved.
Scarlet's voice didn't waver. "An E-rank monster is worth fifty. Manageable, if you are not completely worthless."
The golden eye glowed faintly, cold and unblinking. "A D-rank will grant two hundred and fifty. Few of you will kill one. Fewer still will survive the attempt."
Murmurs broke out before being crushed again by the sheer weight of her aura.
"You may form groups. You may fight alone. You may fight each other. It does not matter." Scarlet let her hand drop, and the projection shattered like glass, fragments fading into nothing. "What matters is simple. If you do not reach the required threshold, you fail. If you die, you fail. And if you break the rules…"
Her golden eye sharpened, and the weight of her killing intent pressed like a knife against every throat in the hall. "I will make an example of you myself."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Not a cough, not a shuffle of boots, not even the sound of breath dared rise above the storm that was Scarlet's presence.
Finally, she stepped back, her coat sweeping the stage like the trailing shadow of a predator.
"Survive. Kill. Prove you are worth keeping." Her voice was ice, final, merciless. "Or vanish like the insects you are."
She turned, her white hair catching the light as though mocking the terrified stares fixed on her.
The strongest person in the world had given her judgment.
And now, the trial would begin.