The battle royale had narrowed the academy hopefuls from 1,000 to just 100.
Now, only the strongest would earn a place in the elite tier—the top 20. Prestige, private training, and royal sponsorship awaited them. The rest? They'd still attend, but as shadows among giants.
The sky over the Royal Ascension Arena glowed crimson, mana saturating the air like static before a thunderstorm. Towering spires of stone formed the colossal battlefield. Spectators from every major faction—royalty, generals, merchants, and hidden powers—watched from floating balconies above.
"Let the final combat trials begin," the Grand Chancellor's voice boomed.
Twenty battlegrounds. Ten simultaneous duels.
Every eye turned toward Elric.
Wreathed in glimmering gold mana, Elric's presence was radiant. His bloodline—the rare Celestial Ignis—gave him control over transcendent fire. His System interface gleamed behind his eyes.
> [Quest Accepted: Defeat Ranked Challenger - 40 Points]
[Bonus: Win Without Injury - 20 Points]
[Skill Suggestion: Ignition Halo Lv.3 - Equipped]
His blade blazed as he faced off against a girl with obsidian wings and shadow-infused claws. She lunged. Elric vanished, reappeared above her, and sent a cascading wave of holy fire downward.
Boom!
The explosion tore apart the platform, sending chunks flying across the arena. The crowd roared as Elric descended through the smoke, untouched.
On another field, a blue-skinned warrior from the Leviathan Depths danced across a river-like platform. His glaive surged with tide mana, crashing against his elven opponent who countered with lightning-infused arrows.
Each duel was a spectacle of raw power and trained genius.
But the center of attention gradually shifted.
It wasn't Elric.
It wasn't the elemental prodigies.
It was Alaric Thorneveil—the boy who hadn't moved an inch.
Sitting calmly on a blackened throne conjured from earth mana, a porcelain teacup steaming in his hand, Alaric had been there since the beginning of the royale.
Unbothered.
Untouched.
And yet—no one approached him.
Not even the most aggressive candidates dared draw close.
Because those who had tried… disappeared.
One attempted to snipe him from a distance.
Alaric didn't even glance their way. A needle of wind pierced the attacker's shoulder and hurled them unconscious out of the arena.
Another, cloaked in invisibility, crept up from behind. Alaric slowly lifted the teacup, swirled the contents, and whispered, "You're three seconds late."
A shockwave detonated beneath his throne.
The intruder's illusion shattered. They collapsed, convulsing, eyes wide in disbelief.
Everyone understood.
The boy sipping tea was untouchable.
Even more curious—no one could see his element.
His aura was clean, unblemished. Like the still surface of deep water. That terrified them more than if he had roared with thunder or scorched the sky with flame.
Only one dared defy the silence.
A youth with short platinum hair, a black war coat, and cold blue eyes stepped forward.
Caelum Varenth.
Descendant of the Lunar Serpents. Feared assassin of the Varenth Guild. Ranked fifth in the trials so far.
He said nothing, only drew his dual blades and stepped onto Alaric's platform.
Alaric smiled.
"I was wondering when someone interesting would show up."
Caelum's eyes narrowed. "You've done nothing this entire trial. You're not worthy of the top ranks."
Alaric stood, sipping the last of his tea.
"Then show me what 'worthy' looks like."
The moment the cup touched the ground, Caelum struck.
Shadow blades extended, cutting in arcs that bent space. Illusions multiplied his form—a blur of twenty assassins attacking in perfect sync.
Alaric's foot slid back.
[Binding Sync Detected: Elric]
[Power Assimilation: Ignition Core Lv.1 Acquired]
Flames burst around Alaric—but not Elric's golden flame.
No, this was dark crimson. An infernal power twisted by his will.
He raised a finger.
The ground erupted.
Caelum's illusions shattered. His real body flickered behind Alaric—but was caught by a single backward glance.
"You're fast," Alaric said. "But you're not faster than me remembering what you're about to do."
Boom!
A spiraling burst of compressed force sent Caelum flying into the air. He flipped mid-air and landed with grace, breathing hard.
Blood trickled from his lip.
He smiled.
And laughed.
"That's more like it. You're dangerous."
Alaric tilted his head.
"You still want to fight?"
"I'd rather not die today," Caelum replied, and sheathed his swords. "But I'll remember you. Alaric Thorneveil."
He walked off the platform, and Alaric sat down again, conjuring another cup of tea.
The crowd erupted.
Commentators screamed.
The rankings appeared in the air.
> Preliminary Rankings
1. Alaric Thorneveil - 236 Points
2. Elric Valiant - 198 Points
3. Caelum Varenth - 178 Points
4. Nyssa of Frostspire - 164 Points
…
5. Valeen Arkwright - 112 Points
The 100 finalists stood in silence as the Chancellor addressed them again.
"You 100 have earned your place. The top 20 will now duel in one-on-one matches to finalize ranking. All eyes are upon you. Nations await your rise."
From the royal booths above, nobles whispered.
"Who is that boy?"
"Thorneveil… is he related to the Empress?"
"He's terrifying. No recorded affinity."
"Even the Celestial Ignis can't outpace his score…"
Alaric sipped his tea, wind brushing his silver hair.
He didn't care for the applause.
He had already achieved what he came for.
And this was only the beginning.
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