The morning sun painted the Academy courtyard in hues of gold and gray, the polished stone reflecting the faint shimmer of violet, emerald, and other colored auras of those gathered. Today marked the start of the Succession Trials, a test of skill, judgment, and potential designed to identify the next generation of Himen—those who could rise to the highest ranks.
Shinjiru's chest tightened as he stepped into the central arena. The crowd of Himen in training robes watched silently, murmurs barely audible over the hum of the environment. This wasn't a regular examination. This was the Crucible, where the Elite themselves observed, judged, and guided the future of the Serium Realm.
Masaru's lessons echoed in Shinjiru's mind: "Every movement matters. Every choice leaves a trace. And restraint… always restraint." He gripped his kusarigama tighter, the familiar weight anchoring him to the present.
From the shadowed end of the arena, a single figure emerged: Kaoru Myojin, The Silent Monk. His white-gold aura glowed faintly, ceremonial kusarigama in hand, eyes unreadable beneath the hood.
"Welcome, Shinjiru Arakami," Kaoru intoned. "These trials are not about defeating your peers. They are about understanding the essence of balance: power, discipline, and morality. Fail any one aspect, and you fail entirely."
The first test began without warning. Panels of light and shadow appeared across the arena floor, each triggering illusions of past battles, moral dilemmas, and phantom Krawlers. Shinjiru's aura flared as he moved, instinctively phasing through minor illusions, dodging and weaving, recognizing the difference between real threats and simulations.
A sudden voice echoed from nowhere, unmistakably Hibiki Onryo: "What would you sacrifice for power, Shinjiru? For knowledge? For survival?" The air rippled with sickly green waves of sound that distorted perception. Shinjiru's pulse raced. He realized that this was more than combat—it was a test of will.
Focusing on his father's files, which Miyu had carefully allowed him glimpses of, Shinjiru centered his thoughts. His father had walked dangerous lines, had broken rules out of love and duty, and had paid the ultimate price. The echoes of that sacrifice guided him.
He moved again, facing a series of projected opponents, each representing a lesson from the Elite 8:
Ryuzen's shadowed decoys tested his tactical intuition.
Akihara's thorned chains manifested in spectral form, testing restraint.
Setsuna's lightning speed forced Shinjiru to predict and react almost before the attacks began.
Step by step, trial by trial, Shinjiru learned. He combined instinct with strategy, restraint with precision. He realized the trials were not simply about strength—they were about synthesis.
Hours passed, the arena's illusions growing more complex, weaving moral dilemmas and physical obstacles together. A sudden blast of crimson energy tore through the final panel, a spectral Orochi no Kyōfu testing his composure. Fear threatened to overtake him, but he remembered Shinu's rescue, the lessons of Aoi and Masaru, and the whispers of his father's legacy.
With a final decisive strike, Shinjiru trapped the spectral beast in a lattice of violet-phased chains, redirecting its force harmlessly. Silence fell. The illusions dissipated, leaving the arena empty but for him and Kaoru, who had been observing silently the entire time.
Kaoru lowered his head slightly, a rare gesture of acknowledgment. "You have survived the first trial," he said. "But survival alone does not mark a Himen for succession. Tomorrow, you will face the tests of judgment—where every choice you make weighs against the consequences of another's life."
Shinjiru exhaled, muscles trembling, aura flickering with exhaustion but also with resolve. He had taken the first step into the Succession Arc, but the path ahead was steep, shadowed, and dangerous.
As he left the arena, a violet shard of light brushed his vision, faint and fleeting—a reminder that his essence, unlike any other in history, carried both the burden of his father's actions and the promise of becoming the first ninth Elite Himen.
And somewhere, far beyond the Academy walls, whispers of chaos stirred. The Stage 3 Krawlers were moving, and Ranko Hoshi's rebellion was gathering force. Shinjiru's trials were only the beginning.