They arrived without ceremony.
No banners.No music.No announcements echoing through the academy halls.
Five convoys reached the outer gates before noon—each escorted, each silent, each observed by more eyes than they were meant to notice.
The academy felt it immediately.
Not power.
Presence.
Students stopped training.Instructors paused mid-lecture.Even the wards adjusted—subtle, involuntary recalibrations as unfamiliar elemental signatures crossed the perimeter.
"Those are them," someone whispered.
The chosen.
PYRAEN — Fire Delegation
They came first.
Five figures stepped forward from scorched transport armor, heat radiating even without visible flames. None of them spoke. Their eyes moved quickly—assessing angles, distance, exits.
"They look ready to fight," a student murmured.
"No," another corrected softly. "They look ready to start one."
Fire did not wait.
AQUELIS — Water Delegation
Their arrival barely registered.
One moment the path was clear.
The next, five figures were simply there—robes damp at the edges, footsteps soundless on stone.
They didn't scan the academy.
They watched people.
"They're measuring reactions," an instructor noted.
Water remembered everything.
GAIATH — Earth Delegation
The ground felt heavier before they appeared.
Five broad silhouettes approached at an unhurried pace, every step deliberate. They didn't avoid eye contact. They didn't seek it either.
"They won't move unless pushed," someone said.
"And when they do," another replied, "something breaks."
Earth did not announce itself.
ZEPHRA — Wind Delegation
There was laughter.
Then emptiness.
Then five figures leaned casually against a railing that had been unoccupied seconds earlier.
They didn't stand together.
They didn't stand still.
"You didn't see them arrive," a student said in disbelief.
Wind rarely did the same thing twice.
VAELRION — Lightning Delegation
Last.
And least visible.
No escort.
No convoy.
Just five silent arrivals spaced too far apart to feel like a group.
No pressure.No flair.No display.
That disturbed the academy more than raw force ever could.
"They don't feel like lightning," someone whispered.
"They feel like aftermath."
Across the main courtyard, students and delegates passed each other without acknowledgment.
No names exchanged.
No greetings offered.
This was intentional.
Masako watched from above.
"This is the only moment they're equal," she said quietly.
Raishin folded his arms. "They won't be after the first trial."
Kurogane stood apart from both students and delegates.
He didn't look at the five groups.
He felt them.
Fire pushing outward.Water wrapping inward.Earth holding ground.Wind refusing center.Lightning—
Fragmented.
Unsettled.
Incomplete.
His jaw tightened.
"They were chosen," he murmured. "But not for the same reason."
Raishin glanced at him. "Neither were you."
That evening, a second notice appeared.
Shorter than the first.
Colder.
ASSESSMENT STRUCTURE CONFIRMED
Participants will proceed through sequential trials.
Final evaluation will include cross-village engagement.
Rankings will be determined by cumulative performance.
Victory alone is insufficient.
No date.
No explanation.
Just inevitability.
In dormitories, training halls, and guest quarters alike, the same realization settled in:
The Evaluation had already begun.
The fights would come later.
But the sorting had started the moment the chosen arrived.