The moment the king stepped down from the platform, the air changed.
It didn't relax—if anything, it tightened—but the nature of the tension shifted. Anticipation replaced awe. Uncertainty replaced excitement.
A clear chime rang out, sharp and resonant, echoing across the vast plaza.
"Parents, guardians, and sponsors," a mana-amplified voice announced, "please follow the royal attendants."
Confusion stirred immediately.
Uncle Garen nodded. "This is where the real exam begins."
I smiled faintly. "I'll just do my best."
He chuckled. "That's all I ask for."
They were guided away, gradually disappearing into the mass of adults being led beyond the plaza walls. For the first time since arriving in Crownspire, I truly felt it.
We were alone.
Thousands of us.
The king stepped forward again, silence following him like a tide.
"From this moment onward," he said evenly, "your performance belongs to you alone."
His gaze swept over the candidates.
"This entrance examination consists of two stages."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
"Stage One," the king continued, "is a demonstration of potential."
He gestured toward the colossal exam hall behind him, its doors towering like the mouth of a giant.
"You will individually step forward and showcase your abilities before the representatives of every magic academy present."
That made my chest tighten.
"There is no pass or fail," the king said calmly.
Some candidates visibly relaxed.
"There is only judgment."
That relief vanished instantly.
"Stage Two will be a duel phase," he went on. "Opponents will be assigned based on your performance in the first stage."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
"You will be evaluated not merely on power—but on control, adaptability, and resolve."
Then, softer but no less firm:
"Tonight, you will return to your assigned dormitories. Rest well."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"You will need it."
I overslept.
Not by a little.
By a lot.
Sunlight poured through the dormitory window, far brighter than it had any right to be.
My eyes snapped open.
"…No."
The bells were already ringing.
I rolled out of bed, tangled myself in my cloak, barely fastened my boots, and sprinted down the hallway.
"Move—sorry—excuse me!"
I burst through the dormitory doors just as attendants began sealing them.
"Wait!" I shouted.
One of them glanced over. "Candidate 327?"
"Yes!"
A moment passed.
Then he stepped aside. "Go."
I slipped inside just as the doors closed behind me.
High above the exam hall, behind enchanted glass, five figures sat around a circular obsidian table.
The Top four Magic Academy Headmasters.
Archmage Valerian Aetherion of Aetherion Royal Magic Academy folded his hands calmly. "Shall we begin?"
Lady Selene Lunaris of the Lunaris Arcane Institute smirked. "We all know who the real prizes are."
Master Thorne Eldora of Eldoria High Academy snorted. "That's what you said last year. Half your 'prizes' dropped out."
Roseveil's headmistress, Lady Roselyn, chuckled softly. "Children grow. Not all in the ways we expect."
A projection flared to life.
Rank Five — Brannic Holt
A massive boy appeared, muscles dense even at rest.
"Physical reinforcement," Selene said. "Spark III across bone and muscle."
"Knight bloodline," Edrin added. "Ironcrest family. They raise their children like weapons."
Vaelor nodded. "Simple. Reliable."
"And breakable," Maribel said lightly. "Raw power ages poorly."
Rank Four & Three — The Velaryn Twins
The image shifted to two figures.
"Ah," Selene said. "The twins."
"Kael Velaryn," Vaelor said. "Fire mastery, Spark III."
"And Lyra Velaryn," Selene continued. "Water affinity with ice manifestation."
Edrin leaned forward. "Old mage lineage. Taught from infancy."
"Which means limits," Maribel countered. "They think the same."
Selene smiled. "Until they don't."
Rank Two — Rael Storme
Lightning crackled across the projection.
"One A-rank skill," Vaelor said. "Three B-rank. Two C-rank. One empty slot."
"At thirteen," Edrin muttered. "Absurd."
Selene's eyes narrowed. "He'll explode or ascend. No middle ground."
"And that empty slot," Maribel said thoughtfully, "is dangerous."
Rank One — Princess Elowen
The room fell silent.
Golden hair. Calm eyes.
"Seven skill slots," Vaelor said quietly. "Two A-rank. Four B-rank."
"And the S-rank?" Selene asked.
Vaelor exhaled. "Still a rumor."
Edrin scoffed. "Rumors exist for a reason."
Back in the hall, names echoed endlessly.
Magic roared. Stone cracked. Mana surged.
When my name was called, I stepped forward.
The pressure was immediate.
Over a hundred academy heads watched me like predators.
"Begin when ready," an attendant said.
I inhaled.
Spark III. Don't go further.
Mana flowed.
Wind gathered.
I released it.
A razor-thin slash of air tore across the field, stopping precisely at the barrier without excess force.
The silence was deafening.
Then—
"Did you see that control?"
"He compressed it perfectly."
"That boy held back."
Above, Selene leaned forward. "Interesting, we have a sixth talent among us."
Vaelor smiled faintly.
Hours later, rankings appeared.
15th — out of 3,528.
I exhaled.
Not the top.
But close enough.
As I turned—
"Hey."
A familiar voice.
A girl stepped forward, smiling faintly.
"You made it."
Something about her felt… familiar.
She leaned closer. "Try not to oversleep tomorrow."
And for just a moment—
I thought I saw recognition in her eyes.