The results of the Yejaeta Academy selection were announced at dusk.
The massive stone courtyard was filled with tension so thick it felt tangible. Torches burned along the walls, their flames flickering under the evening wind, casting long, distorted shadows across the faces of the candidates. Some stood upright with pride, others with clenched fists and lowered heads, all waiting for words that would decide their future.
An elder stepped forward, his voice calm yet commanding, amplified by an invisible Urza array.
Names echoed one by one.
Some were called with confidence.
Some with indifference.
And a few—very few—were spoken after a brief pause, as if the Academy itself hesitated before acknowledging them.
"Shiddharth Malhotra—Adaptive Path. Accepted."
For a heartbeat, silence ruled the courtyard.
Then murmurs erupted.
Whispers slithered through the crowd like living things—curiosity, disbelief, envy, and suspicion mixing freely.
"He's the one from the stone test…"
"Didn't he fail the first pressure trial?"
"Adaptive Path? That's rare…"
Shiddharth did not react outwardly. He simply exhaled, bowed once toward the elders, and stepped into the line of accepted candidates. His expression remained neutral, but inside his mind, thoughts raced.
So this is where it begins.
The Academy was not a safe haven. It was a gathering point—a place where ambition, talent, and hidden agendas collided. And where those collisions happened, blood was never far behind.
Abhi stood beside him, his shoulders finally relaxing. "You really did it."
"So did you," Shiddharth replied quietly.
Abhi nodded, though his smile was strained. "Yeah… but I don't think this place stays peaceful for long."
Shiddharth didn't disagree.
Far away from the Academy's towering walls, night fell upon Uthaiyes County like a funeral shroud.
The open plains outside the city were lit by thousands of torches, their flames bending violently under a cold wind that carried the scent of iron and blood. Two massive forces faced each other beneath a dark crimson sky—Jun's guild alliance on one side, Boogesh's coalition on the other.
Banners snapped sharply, each one symbolizing authority, loyalty, or fear.
At the center of Jun's formation stood Jun himself.
His armor was scorched and scratched from earlier skirmishes, yet his posture remained firm. He surveyed the battlefield with sharp eyes, already calculating losses, formations, and possible betrayals. Around him stood allied guild leaders—some confident, some nervous, and some already questioning whether they had chosen the right side.
Novia stood a short distance behind him.
The dragon-bone sword rested against her back, wrapped tightly, yet its presence alone seemed to distort the air around it. Her face was calm, but her eyes scanned the enemy ranks constantly.
Across the field, Boogesh laughed loudly.
The sound carried unnaturally far, amplified by magic.
"So this is what you brought against me?" Boogesh shouted, spreading his arms mockingly. "All these weaklings just to challenge my authority?"
Jun stepped forward, his voice steady. "You've ruled this County through borrowed power and fear long enough."
Boogesh's smile sharpened. "And you think ambition alone makes you king?"
Before Jun could answer, a deep horn echoed across the plains.
The war began.
Arrows blackened the sky. Magic arrays ignited the ground, tearing craters into the earth. Steel collided with steel as the first lines crashed together, screams blending with the thunder of impact.
Jun moved immediately.
He did not charge recklessly. Every command was deliberate—units rotated smoothly, healers repositioned at perfect intervals, and reserve forces struck weakened enemy lines with surgical precision.
For a moment, it worked.
Then Boogesh revealed his preparation.
Massive armored units surged forward, backed by royal suppression mages sent by the County's king. Their combined formation pushed Jun's frontline back step by step, forcing them into defensive stances.
Novia stepped forward.
Her blade sang as it was drawn.
The dragon-bone sword cut through armor like paper, its power forcing even elite units to retreat. Wherever she moved, the battlefield bent around her.
But even she could not cover everything.
Pressure mounted. Casualties increased.
Jun clenched his fist.
Not yet, he told himself. This war won't end tonight.
Back at Yejaeta Academy, Shiddharth felt the disturbance before any messenger arrived.
The night air felt heavy, as if the flow of Urza itself had become unstable. He stood near the dormitory window, staring into the distance beyond the city walls.
Something was wrong.
A sharp knock broke the silence.
Himanshu entered without waiting. "They've started."
Shiddharth turned immediately. "The guild war?"
"Yes." Himanshu leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Jun moved earlier than expected. Either he's confident… or cornered."
Shiddharth's expression hardened. "And Venya?"
"She vanished," Himanshu replied. "Which usually means her CREATOR is watching closely."
Shiddharth exhaled slowly. "Nothing ever happens alone, does it?"
Himanshu smirked faintly. "Welcome to the center of the storm."
On the battlefield, the first major turning point arrived.
Boogesh slammed his staff into the ground.
A massive suppression array activated instantly, the ground glowing with complex runes. Jun's frontline staggered as their movements slowed, their Urza circulation disrupted.
"Now!" Boogesh roared.
Elite units surged forward, crushing weakened defenses.
For the first time, doubt flickered across Jun's eyes.
Then the battlefield shook.
A shockwave ripped through Boogesh's formation, scattering soldiers like leaves in a storm. From above, a cloaked figure descended with terrifying speed, striking key targets with ruthless efficiency.
Boogesh's expression twisted. "You—!"
The newcomer dismantled formations, leaving panic in their wake.
Jun recognized the fighting style instantly.
"So he chose a side," Jun murmured.
The momentum shifted—not enough to end the war, but enough to ensure it would not end tonight.
Boogesh retreated reluctantly, fury burning in his eyes. "This isn't over," he snarled. "I'll burn everything you protect."
Jun watched him withdraw, voice cold. "You'll try."
By dawn, both sides pulled back.
The plains were littered with bodies, broken weapons, and scorched earth. Neutral guilds would soon choose sides. Opportunists would emerge. And somewhere within all this chaos, Shiddharth's name would surface again—quietly, dangerously.
Back in his dorm room, Shiddharth sat on his bed, his sword resting across his knees.
Yejaeta Academy had accepted him.
The world beyond was already demanding more.
He closed his eyes, sensing the restrained Urza within him—imperfect, limited, yet undeniably growing.
The paths were converging.
And soon, standing still would no longer be an option.