You might be thinking, isn't it unfair to pair strong students with other strong students? I mean, first of all, most students of Class A were paired among themselves, and the same applied to other classes. In fact, even within the same class, stronger students were paired with each other.
There was a reason for that. The reason was simple, actually: in the real world, strong people are teamed up with other strong people. For example, why would a powerhouse team up with an SS-rank? Just like that, the academy paired the stronger with the stronger.
And you can guess that since I was teamed up with Althaea, that means I am perceived as strong.
In fact I accepted this because in our mission when Lucas was knocked out unconcious then I alone handled that shadow like figure. Though professors themselves weren't there to evaluate it's strength but Lucas also gave the account of it. And the fact that Lucas was so helpless in front of it was proof enough that that shadow like figure was strong and then while Lucas was unconcious I alone rescued Lucas while dealing with shadow like figure. And all this combined gave a rough estimate of my capabilities.
---
The next day.
The day began in the grand auditorium, sunlight spilling through tall stained-glass windows. Every first-year pair sat on the front benches, still flushed with excitement from the recent event. Professor Kael strode to the center, hands clasped behind his back, and surveyed the students. Silence fell immediately.
"First-year students," he began, his voice calm yet commanding, "the event has been conducted with remarkable skill. I will take a moment to review how each pair performed."
He started with Alaric Blackwood and Roderick Stormrider.
"Your combination of observation and sheer strength allowed you to navigate the Maze of Mirrors and Mana Stream with efficiency. While your puzzle alignment was slightly slower, you compensated with precise movements in the final arena."
Kael moved to Thalia Trystan and Liora Blackthorn.
"Your agility and coordination were excellent. Liora, your unpredictable approach complemented Thalia's precise calculations. You were slightly behind in the Maze due to hesitation, but you recovered quickly."
Then Elric Lewin and Althaea Arkwright.
"Elric, your execution was flawless, though at times it seemed you let your partner take the lead." He paused briefly, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Althaea, your decision-making under pressure was commendable. This combination of tactical analysis and execution is what the Academy encourages."
"Lucas and his partner demonstrated exceptional improvisation skills. You were able to adjust on the fly and maintain steady coordination. Your ingenuity deserves recognition."
The professor continued, detailing how the other pairs performed.
Finally, Sylwen Starleaf and Seraphine Nightingale. Kael's expression softened slightly.
"Their intellect, planning, and timing throughout the challenges were near-perfect. Every move was calculated, every risk minimal. They demonstrated a level of synergy above most first-year students I have seen."
He stepped back and let the students absorb his words. The room was alive with quiet chatter—some students exchanging impressed glances, others slightly envious, and some now simply bored after the lengthy evaluations.
Kael raised a hand.
"Overall, each pair performed admirably. Today, you were all tested on skill, intellect, coordination, and adaptability. Take note: events like these are designed to challenge you, but also to teach you teamwork, strategy, and resilience under pressure."
Kael's eyes swept the room.
"The official winners of this year's First-Year Event are Sylwen Starleaf and Seraphine Nightingale."
The room erupted in muted applause. Sylwen gave her characteristic calm smile. Seraphine simply nodded, though it looked like she was holding herself back from jumping, her violet eyes glinting with quiet satisfaction.
Kael continued,
"They emerged victorious due to exceptional strategic coordination, combined with the ability to solve complex problems under pressure. They anticipated illusions, adapted to traps swiftly, and used both intellect and magical control with minimal effort. While the other pairs demonstrated admirable skill, Sylwen and Seraphine's harmony and decision-making set them apart."
"The Event of third year will be from a month from now. For 2 weeks the classes will continue for first year and second year normally. Then classes will be closed. the next 2 weeks those who want to volunteer for helping set up event of third year can tell their teachers. Others who don't want to volunteer will either have to leave academy or will have their movements restricted inside academy for security reasons.
---
As I listened to Kael, I couldn't help but think about the larger purpose behind these events. First- and second-year events weren't just casual competitions—they were part of a bigger system, a way to prepare students for the real spectacle: the Third-Year Main Event.
Every year, the academy coordinated simultaneous competitions for the first and second years. While first years tested agility, puzzle-solving, and magical skill like today, second years faced more advanced trials: tactical exercises, cooperative combat simulations, and magical dueling scenarios. The goal wasn't solely to determine winners, but to gauge every student's growth, adaptability, and synergy with their partners.
The main focus, however, remained the Third-Year Fighting Event, a spectacle held in the academy's open arena, capable of seating spectators from across the world. It was the largest arena in the world, with a seating capacity of a million people, along with separate VIP chambers.
This event was far more than an internal evaluation—it was a demonstration of talent, magical ability, and combat skill for all to witness.
Students trained for months, honing spells, techniques, and coordination. Each year, the academy invited not only internal instructors but also external observers: merchants, nobles, representatives of kingdoms, and occasionally members of the royal family. The event functioned on multiple levels.
From the academy's perspective, it was both a training exercise and a celebration. Students learned by watching their peers, understanding advanced techniques, and seeing the practical application of their studies. But for outsiders, it was an opportunity to identify promising talent. A kingdom could spot a prodigy in elemental magic, swordsmanship, or strategic thinking—and cultivate a potential alliance or mentorship.
For commoners, the spectacle was fascinating. Magical constructs, duels, spell displays, and athletic feats combined into a festival-like experience. Families came to watch, cheer, and perhaps imagine their own children becoming part of the academy someday. It was, in essence, a bridge between the academy and the outside world.
I leaned back slightly in my seat, watching the first-year students whisper to each other. The strategy and skill we displayed in our mini-arc were nothing compared to what third years would perform. They were the true display of power, and the stakes were much higher.
It was clever, really. By making the first- and second-year events smaller while running them simultaneously, the academy ensured uniform evaluation across levels. Meanwhile, the main event remained the showpiece: a grand exhibition that allowed kingdoms to assess potential successors and notable nobles.
The academy's approach also had a political dimension. Successors of various kingdoms—even young nobles—were often invited or observed. One could see who possessed the power, intelligence, or temperament to strengthen alliances. A kingdom that appeared weak could be revealed as surprisingly strong if its heir demonstrated exceptional magical or combat talent. Thus, the event doubled as both training and soft diplomacy.
From my perspective, as someone who had already read the novel, it was fascinating. Students were evaluated not only on raw power but also on problem-solving, teamwork, and strategy. A seemingly minor accomplishment in a first-year event could hint at extraordinary potential later. And during the third-year event, kingdoms could scout students and establish early connections, fostering long-term relationships between influential families and powerful mages.
This setup also ensured that students gained a practical understanding of the world outside the academy. They weren't just learning spells or martial techniques in isolation. Every maneuver, every decision, every slight adjustment could have consequences—not just within the academy, but beyond its walls.
And it worked brilliantly. Commoners, merchants, and nobles alike were invested in the outcome. The academy, by blending public spectacle with internal evaluation, created a system where excellence was visible, observed, and appreciated. Students learned, alliances formed, and talent was recognized—all under the watchful eyes of those who might shape the future of kingdoms.
I leaned back, considering the broader implications. Every year, students unknowingly participated in a grand system that encompassed learning, strategy, and influence. And while first- and second-year events seemed small in scale, they contributed to something much larger—one that shaped the perceptions of kingdoms, merchants, and families alike.
And all of this occurred while the students believed they were simply competing, learning, and having fun. That subtle genius of the academy was something only a few—perhaps those who had seen the broader world—could truly appreciate.
And the one responsible for this was the Principal. He was truly something else. There was a reason why the academy was now free of political strings. The Principal ruled it with no one to tell him what to do or how to do it.
Finally, I left and went to my dorm with Lucas, talking along the way.