The gates of Arcane Aurora Academy were not mere stone and metal. They were a nexus of swirling, solidified light, humming with a power that made the very air crackle. Aspirants from across the continents gathered, their auras a riot of competing elemental energies—the crackle of lightning, the whisper of wind, the solidity of earth. They were the best of their generations, pride and nervousness warring on their faces.
Among them, one figure was an island of absolute silence.
He moved with an unnerving, predatory grace, his steps making no sound on the enchanted cobblestones. He wore simple, dark traveler's robes that offered no insignia of any house or clan. His face, handsome and sharp, was a mask of chilling indifference. But it was his eyes that truly set him apart—they were not windows to a soul, but twin pools of still, dark water, reflecting nothing, absorbing everything.
This was Yuzar. The name meant "Void Walker" in an ancient, dead tongue. Kaelan was a ghost, a memory of a weak boy who had died in a forest. Yuzar was what had emerged from the ashes.
The Black Dragon's spirit coiled contentedly within the void of his dantian. "Feel their fear, their ambition. It is a stench. They are lambs bleating before the slaughter. Today, you will show them the wolf."
Yuzar did not respond. He simply absorbed the thought, filing it away. Emotion was a luxury he could not afford. The love for a mother who discarded him, the devotion to a girl who betrayed him—these were not memories; they were data points, evidence of a weakness that had been systematically excised. His goal was singular: power. Absolute, undeniable power. And this academy was merely the first stepping stone.
The trial was announced by a floating orb of crystal that pulsed with the headmistress's voice. It was serene, melodic, yet carried an undeniable weight of absolute authority. The voice of Seraphina of the Phoenix Clan. The sound of it caused no flicker in Yuzar's eyes.
"The path to Arcane Aurora is earned, not given," the voice echoed across the grounds. "You will each be given a trial token. Enter the Mirror of Conquest. Within, you will face challenges tailored to your strength. Your goal is not merely to survive, but to conquer. The top fifty aspirants who hold the most tokens at the end will earn their admission. All techniques are permitted. Fatalities are… discouraged, but not penalized."
A ripple of excitement and fear went through the crowd. This was a brutal, merciless test.
Yuzar received his token, a simple copper disc. As he stepped towards the shimmering surface of the giant mirror-portal, a hulking youth with fists wreathed in stone blocked his path.
"Hey, Null," the brute sneered, having overheard whispers about the strange, magic-less boy. "Give me your token. Save yourself the embarrassment. Someone like you doesn't belong here."
Yuzar stopped. He slowly turned his head, his dark eyes focusing on the youth for the first time. He did not speak. He simply reached out, his movement faster than the eye could follow.
He didn't channel magic. He activated the First Stage: Void-Forged Body. His hand, reinforced with the resilience of the abyss, closed around the youth's magically-enhanced stone fist.
There was a sickening crunch.
The brute screamed, not in pain, but in shock and terror as the earth magic around his fist shattered like glass under the pressure, the bones within faring no better. Yuzar plucked the youth's token from his belt with his other hand, then released him.
"Thank you for your contribution," Yuzar said, his voice a flat, emotionless monotone. He stepped through the mirror, leaving the weeping aspirant and a circle of stunned, silent onlookers behind.
"Efficient," the Black Dragon purred.