The morning sun glinted off the training grounds, casting long shadows across the stone courtyard. The crowd of students murmured, eager to watch the newcomers face off in the preliminary trials. Eryndor adjusted his stance, feeling the subtle hum of lightning along his knuckles and the tug of wind guiding his movements.
The first round of names had already been called. Eryndor's name came next. He stepped forward, taking in his first opponent:
Rovan Kaelith — a fiery-haired boy with a mischievous smirk, wielding a minor fire affinity. His movements were aggressive and confident, his eyes scanning for openings as if daring Eryndor to strike first.
The trial began. Rovan lunged with a burst of flame, aiming to overwhelm with brute force. Eryndor dodged using Pulse Step, letting the wind carry him lightly to the side. The flames licked the stone where he had just stood, and he countered with Arc Lash, lightning striking the air to disrupt Rovan's rhythm.
Rovan staggered back slightly, surprised at the boy's fluidity. Eryndor moved into Gale Feint, spinning around Rovan with a controlled gust of wind guiding his momentum. The two circled each other, one fueled by fire, the other by wind and lightning, until Eryndor landed a precise strike that unbalanced Rovan and ended the match.
Before Eryndor could catch his breath, the next opponent was called:
Selara Veyrin — a lithe, agile girl with a minor water affinity. She moved like liquid, her steps unpredictable, her strikes flowing with deceptive speed. Her water tendrils reached for Eryndor, each strike testing his timing and perception.
Eryndor relied on Eightfold Flow, letting his body guide the strike and counter instinctively. Nerve Ignite subtly disrupted her grip on the water tendrils as he dodged, then he weaved lightning into a combination of punches and kicks, landing just enough to push her back without overwhelming her. The fight ended with a mutual nod—a sign of respect from a rival Eryndor knew would appear again in the top rounds.
The narrator interjected, calm and observing:
In these trials, the difference between magic and martial arts becomes clear. Magic can reach beyond the body, strike from a distance, or manipulate elements with raw force. Martial arts, however, is the body itself as a weapon, a tool for reading, adapting, and controlling the flow of combat. Eryndor's strength is not in raw power—it is in the fusion of both, the ability to read his opponent while enhancing every strike with Ember Tier energy. Even now, weak by some standards, he is already extraordinary.
The final match of the preliminary round brought forth another opponent:
Torrin Ashvale — a large, imposing boy with minor earth affinity, known for brute strength and relentless pressure. Torrin charged immediately, aiming to overpower Eryndor with sheer force. Eryndor let the wind guide him, Pulse Step allowing him to evade, Gale Feint letting him redirect Torrin's momentum, and Arc Lash cracking along his fists. Every movement flowed naturally, like the storm within him dictating his strikes.
Torrin's strength was considerable, and the match pushed Eryndor to focus every ounce of attention. But with calm rhythm, precise strikes, and the subtle disruption of Nerve Ignite, he managed to land the finishing move—small but decisive—proving his control even under pressure.
Kael observed from the platform, expression unreadable, but his eyes lingered on Eryndor longer than any other student. The boy was clearly different—not the strongest, but the most adaptable. His Ember Tier abilities and martial fusion made him a rare talent in the academy, and Kael's mind cataloged every movement, every choice.
As the preliminary rounds ended, the top ten were slowly revealed. Names were called in no particular order, but Eryndor's placement was undeniable. He had survived each match, adapted to each style, and subtly displayed the Ember Tier abilities Kael had once pushed him to master.
The narrator's voice echoed in thought:
Stormcrest Academy is not about who can strike the hardest. It is about who can adapt, survive, and harmonize body and elemental energy under pressure. Eryndor, though still considered "weak" in raw power, has already displayed a level of intuition and fusion that will mark him as a student to watch. The trials are only the beginning.
Eryndor exhaled, feeling the electricity in his fingers and the wind tugging at his coat. The top ten were set, and the real test—their showdown against each other—was about to begin.