Thirty years had passed since the Demon War. The shadows still remembered it, and the ruins still bore the marks of burning bones — yet the world had learned to breathe again.
On a clear, cold morning, the Academy of Knights and Mages stood tall like a fortress of stone and memory — high pillars, a stone bridge leading to a vast courtyard, and in its center two colossal statues:
Oungan, the King's former sword and symbol of courage who defeated two demon generals and severed the arm of Morlock, father of Asmodeus, the Demon King;
and Hades, who sacrificed his magic to destroy that very King.
Today marked the tenth cycle — an event held every three years to recruit a new generation of knights and mages. Students from kingdoms, villages, and different races — all driven by fear and hope alike — filled the stone stairs, their faces pale with excitement, tension, or determination.
Among them stood Arthur Leonhart, son of King Ragnar.
At sixteen, he had hair white as snow and eyes red as dawn — a look that drew whispers wherever he went. The white heritage was either a blessing or a curse… even he did not know which. Yet his heart was heavy with promises — ones made to himself and to the world.
Arthur looked at the statues before the academy, reverent yet burdened.
His fingers gripped the hilt of his sword, his voice barely a whisper:
"So this is Uncle Oungan… and Lord Hades, who crushed the Demon King's army and sacrificed their lives for the world. Fine then. I'll surpass you both… and become the one who exterminates the demons."
The words were cold as frost — but they burned with conviction.
Behind him, more students arrived: two elegant elf girls whispering spell tactics; a thin boy clutching a rune-covered book; and a dark-skinned boy eyeing Arthur as a potential rival.
Among them stood Hestia, Arthur's cousin — short white hair and red eyes, sharing his striking traits.
The crowd was alive with laughter and chatter, but in Arthur's eyes, there was only one goal — to enter the Academy.
Then came the King himself — Ragnar Leonhart, once the sword of the previous king Arlin, now ruler of the realm. He walked among the students like a father among his children. His presence carried the weight of old battles and silent pride. He did not speak publicly to Arthur — his hand on his son's shoulder was a silent blessing.
At the front sat the exam board — Kyle Leonhart, Arthur's older brother, age 27, known as the White Shadow. His disheveled white hair and sharp crimson eyes radiated power and command. In his hand rested his legendary white blade — Valkorion.
Beside him sat Zeus, the Academy's headmaster — over 150 years old, a hero of the First Demon War, eyes filled with untold stories. Once a mentor to Ragnar himself, he now oversaw the test with calm judgment.
Zeus's gaze briefly lingered on Arthur, assessing him quietly before addressing the crowd.
"Welcome, children of the new era!" his deep voice carried across the courtyard, silencing the noise.
"Today you will be measured — not by what you claim to be, but by what you do when cornered. Remember this: strength without wisdom seeks only ruin. The Academy does not forge weapons… it forges balance."
His words echoed through the courtyard.
But Arthur only heard the pounding of his heart.
In his mind's eye — the face of a dark figure, the one who led the Demon King's army, haunted him still. He didn't know how or when that evil might return, but he swore — this time there would be no mercy.
When the Exam Gate opened, glowing runes carved a passage of light. The applicants were split into groups — sword users, mages, and hybrids. Arthur was placed in a mixed group, perfect for him, for within his sword arm slept a faint spark of lightning — a gift taught by his brother long ago.
As he stepped forward, a short girl blocked his path — blue braided hair, ocean-blue eyes sharp as blades. She studied him with curious defiance.
"You're from the Leonhart family, aren't you?" she asked. "I'm Marcia, daughter of Poseidon, King of Atlantis. An honor to meet you."
Arthur replied with composed indifference, a faint politeness beneath his tone:
"My name's Arthur."
Then his eyes shifted toward the young man beside her — blue messy hair, ocean eyes like hers, holding a trident shimmering with runes. Their gazes locked — sparks of rivalry forming instantly.
Arthur smirked, whispering under his breath:
"Heh… this exam's going to be interesting."
Marcia smiled knowingly, then turned to the young man.
"What do you think, Arion? The son of Father's friend…"
Arion replied coolly, "He looks strong… but I won't lose to the likes of him."
Before another word could be said, the exam doors burst open. The group stepped inside in solemn silence.
The chamber was a vast dome, its floor engraved with ancient symbols glowing blue flame.
At its center, a single stone pulsed — alive with energy that seemed to read their very souls.
As each student stepped onto the stone, they felt its warmth surge through their veins — not a fire to burn, but a flame to test.
A whisper echoed inside every mind:
"Show what you truly are."
The walls shifted, the room expanding into a grand arena.
From a high platform, Zeus's commanding voice thundered across the dome — ageless, absolute:
> "The first test… one-on-one duels.
We will not judge strength alone, but control, intent, and the path you choose to win."
A heavy silence filled the hall. Every student waited, breath held.
Kyle Leonhart extended his hand to the blue crystal tablet before him — names flickered in glowing light until two stopped, shining brighter than the rest.
Narrator:
Who will fight first...?