The Imperial Capital of Velis always seemed to breathe differently during the Academy Entrance Season.On ordinary days, its streets bustled with merchants hawking enchanted trinkets, noble carriages rolling past, and commoners trying to avoid both. But today, the city itself seemed to lean toward one direction—the Coliseum of Ascendance, the sacred grounds where the annual Entrance Examinations were held.
It was said that the Coliseum was built by the first Archmage Emperor himself, layered with hundreds of spell formations. Even now, runes shimmered in the air like constellations, glowing against the pale morning sky. Floating platforms drifted lazily above the grounds, reserved for noble families and honored guests. And towering spires of crystal flared to life, measuring mana fluctuations and recording the feats of each participant.
Tens of thousands filled the massive plaza outside. Nobles in their banners, merchants, guards in polished armor, and wide-eyed commoners who dared dream of glory. All had come for a single purpose: to witness which among this year's candidates would rise to the pinnacle.
And this year promised to be special.
Not only had the four most dazzling young ladies of the generation reached the age of testing, but word had spread that professors from all twenty Academies of the Empire had been dispatched to watch personally. Even the mighty Mervilin Ace Academy, first in the Empire's rankings, had sent three of its own deans.
The plaza quieted for a moment when a luxurious black carriage turned the corner. Its wheels were gilded in gold, and the crest painted on its side gleamed with enchantments—a golden griffon clutching a coin.
Whispers immediately rose.
"House Davisus…""The merchant Dukes. Look, that's their youngest…""Lucien Davisus? The useless one? Hah! He's probably here to donate gold to the examiners."
The carriage slowed, and the door swung open.
A young man stepped out, his cloak lined with silver thread, his boots polished until they gleamed. His hair was dark, his eyes sharp, and his lips curled into a faint, amused smile as though he found the whole world rather entertaining.
Lucien Davisus.
The last son of Duke Alaric Davisus. To most, he was nothing more than a spoiled noble brat who had accomplished nothing but spending coin. But to himself?
"So this is the test ground, eh? Hm. The mana density is thick… the architecture reeks of wasted funds. If they'd auctioned half these rune-stones, the Empire's debt would be cut by thirty percent. And all these fools call this a 'sacred site'? Tch. I see an overbudgeted project ripe for resale."
Lucien's smirk deepened as he slowly walked down the steps, letting the whispers ripple.
Every eye followed him, but where others might have flinched or straightened their back with pride, Lucien did neither. He simply looked at them as though they were products on a shelf, waiting to be priced.
The gathering of youths in front of the Coliseum was a sight to behold. Some arrived in ordinary carriages, others on floating discs or with magical beasts in tow. Each bore the crest of their noble houses, and each carried the hopes of their families.
Lucien's gaze swept across them lazily, but his mind was anything but idle.
"Let's see… ah, there's the Mage Association's brat. Damian Arcanos, right? Son of the Chairman himself. Nicknamed the 'Crown of Magic.' He's got the arrogance of a rooster and the brains of a pickled cabbage. Perfect bait for when I need someone to draw attention away from me later."
Sure enough, Damian Arcanos strutted into view, robes embroidered with spell arrays. His lackey scuttled behind him, loudly boasting about his master's achievements.
Lucien smirked. "Every empire needs its clowns. The fact they provide their own for free is good business."
But the murmurs grew louder when two figures arrived from the western gate.
One was radiant in crimson, her hair flowing like a waterfall of fire. She carried herself with the grace of royalty, yet the glint in her eyes promised trouble. This was Princess Selene Veradis, the Empire's last princess, nicknamed the Crimson Rose of the Empire. Notorious for sneaking out of the palace and playing pranks on noble sons.
Beside her, dressed in simple white robes trimmed with green, walked a girl with gentle features and a serene smile. Her aura radiated comfort like a spring breeze. She was Elira Calvus, daughter of the Chief Healer of the Academy, known as the Saintess of Serenity. Beloved by commoners, admired by nobles, and universally regarded as too good for this world.
The crowd gasped. "The Crimson Rose and the Saintess together!"
Lucien's lips twitched. "The Empire's most mischievous spark and its kindest candle walking arm in arm? That's like putting fire and honey in the same jar. Whoever tries to sip that drink will choke."
But the day was not done with its surprises.
From the northern gate arrived two more dazzling figures—rivals to the first pair.
One wore a scholarly green gown, her posture upright, her eyes calm and calculating. Seraphina Mervilin, daughter of the Governor of Mervilin Ace Academy itself. Nicknamed the Emerald Scholar, she was famed for her strategic mind and icy detachment.
At her side, dressed in silver and blue, was a girl who seemed to outshine even the runes above. Proud, aloof, and breathtakingly elegant, she was Aurelia Astralis, daughter of Duchess Lyra Astralis—the Empire's only female Archmage. Her nickname: the Silver Star.
The plaza buzzed again. Four peerless beauties, two alliances, eternal rivalry.
Lucien's eyes gleamed as he folded his arms.
"The Crimson Rose, the Saintess, the Emerald Scholar, and the Silver Star. Four peerless roses, each with thorns sharper than daggers. And all of them here, in the same test. Hm. If I play this right, their rivalry will sell itself. The only question is whether I should invest in perfume or bandages first."
The ground trembled as a pulse of mana rippled through the Coliseum. Above, floating platforms extended outward, filled with robed figures. Professors from all twenty Academies had arrived, each distinguished by their robes and insignias.
Some bore flames, others icy crystals, some runes of law or shimmering glyphs. The mere sight of them silenced the crowd.
An elder in gold robes spoke, his voice booming through the enchanted air.
"By decree of His Imperial Majesty, and in the presence of the Academies, the Entrance Examination for this year shall now commence!"
Scrolls unfurled in the sky, glowing with runes.
"The trials shall test your mana, your will, your wit, and your resolve. Today, legends will be born… and failures will be forgotten."
Lucien tilted his head back, smirking as he watched the display.
"Legends and failures, hm? Heh. Wrong. Today, businesses will be born… and fools will fund them. Let the games begin."