The wind inside the Gilded Arena carried weight—not just of dust and dusk, but of legacy.
It was the first formal arena test of the cycle, and beneath the rising banners of the subclans low rank houses, hundreds of disciples gathered in ascending rows. Most were juniors, their veins newly awakened. Others, in silver or crimson attire, bore clan sigils and the quiet, practiced confidence of seasoned youth. Among them stood Nocth, expression half-frozen.
A bell rang. Not a sound of beauty—but one of beginning.
From above, suspended on an invisible platform of flowing blue mist, Elder Aerus addressed the crowd. "This is the Ranking Day for juniors under 150 veins," his voice echoed, enhanced by a technique. "Prove your form. Prove your veins. Prove your right to stand in this land."
Nocth exhaled slowly. His veins—barely awakened and not yet fully understood—pulsed faintly beneath his skin. A resonance he had not trained, but one that responded to emotion more than reason.
Beside him, a smirking voice broke through the tension.
"Don't faint in the first ten seconds, Nocth."
It was Imius again. His long sleeves were rolled carelessly, black hair tied low, and the faint flick of golden-blue sparks danced around his fingers.
"I'm not even in your bracket," Nocth said dryly.
"I know. I just enjoy reminding you you're still soft." He stepped forward, but his aura twisted. The usual heavy pressure of a Veinkind Initiate vanished—replaced with the controlled restraint of a Celestial Spark.
Whispers rippled.
"He lowered his level again..."
"That's the third time this month…"
"Isn't he banned from doing that?"
Indeed, above them, Shae' stood silently on a crystalline balcony. Veiled and cold-eyed, she said nothing. But one of her fingers tightened against the rail.
Imius tilted his head up. "Still watching me, Shae'? I haven't technically broken anything."
A crack of sound announced the start of matches.
The lower platforms lit in shimmering gold as juniors with fewer than 80 veins stepped forward. They were largely from peripheral branches—distant cousins of noble clans, or outer disciples who had survived the entry rituals.
Nocth waited patiently.
One boy stepped onto the platform with an aggressive gait. His bloodline had awakened 62 veins—a middle-tier Class 6. His opponent, however, trembled slightly—barely 44 veins, and unranked.
"Fight!"
In under twenty seconds, the weaker boy was flung across the arena.
The crowd didn't cheer.
Instead, they watched the patterns. The difference. The grace of vein movement. The stumbles and flows. The elders sitting behind veiled curtains observed far more than mere results.
Shae's voice, quiet but firm, whispered beside one such elder: "Watch him."
The elder adjusted his lens. "You mean Nocth?"
Shae nodded once.
The boy didn't look like much—lean, sharp-eyed, quiet. His stance was reserved. Yet even as he stood still, the veins in his arms pulsed in unbalanced rhythm—not chaotic, but untrained. Potential disguised as inconsistency.
He hides it, she thought. Not from malice, but from himself.
Her eyes narrowed. The Dreaming Veins…?
On the other side of the platform, Nocth finally stepped up for his match. His opponent was a smirking girl from the Third Clan's outer division—Lia'the, known for her cold water-affinity and 101 veins.
Her mouth curved. "Don't cry when the cold sets in."
Nocth offered no reply.
"Begin!"
At once, freezing mist exploded outward, forming layered ice-rings that spun like cutting blades. The crowd roared.
Nocth didn't step back. He stepped through.
For a second, the entire arena went quiet.
The girl's ice shattered around him—not melted, but unformed, like something reversed its construction. Her eyes widened.
Nocth moved his palm forward—and stopped inches from her chest.
She blinked. A second later, she fell to her knees, stunned but unharmed.
Match over.
It had lasted nine seconds.
Nocth walked back in silence.
---
In the elevated lounge, a cloaked figure with silver eyes muttered to another enforcer from a different continent. "That… wasn't normal."
"No," the other replied. "But he only used a third of his veins. The rest? Something else was guiding them."
They sipped their tea. They would report this anomaly. Quietly.
---
Back in the hallways of the dorm, Imius waited at the gates. "Told you not to faint. Impressive though. You're not… normal, are you?"
Nocth ignored the question.
Instead, he asked, "Why do you hide your real strength?"
Imius shrugged. "It's fun being feared and loved. Plus, some of the juniors need humbling. They think vein count is everything."
He grinned. "But you… you're different. You don't even care about winning."
Nocth didn't answer.
From the shadows behind, Shae' appeared. "Imius."
He jumped slightly. "Yes, noble tormentor?"
"No more suppressing to junior levels. It ruins the test curves."
"Aw. But I inspire them—"
Shae raised a finger.
Imius stopped. "Fine. No more hero stunts."
She turned to Nocth. "You did well. But they'll be watching now. Try not to draw too many eyes... unless you're ready for them."
Nocth nodded. The faint hum of his veins sang beneath his skin—but not with power. With warning.
Something was stirring beneath the land of Thaleon.
And even the watchers from other continents had begun to whisper his name.