The Empire of Aetherion
Capital City: Elaris Arkanveil Academy
The sun blazed high above a colossal stone coliseum, its golden rays dancing across steel blades, polished armor, and robes stitched with threads of gold. The air thrummed with nervousness and excitement, as if the sky itself held its breath in anticipation.
The colossal structure was circular and ancient a symbol of history and pride. Tens of thousands of eyes peered down from the gallery above, the stands packed with nobles, scholars, knights, and spectators from across the continent.
This was the Academy of Arkanveil, the most prestigious magic and combat academy in the known world. And today marked the first trial: the Gate of Worth, the symbolic entrance test of Arkanveil Academy.
Below the crowd, on the wide white-stone arena floor elegant yet strong stood thousands of youths. Candidates from every kingdom, house, and caste. They were the next generation of heroes, bigshots or so they hoped. Boys and girls, some no older than sixteen, others nearing twenty, stood in clusters, chatting among themselves, a blend of excitement, nervousness, seriousness, and every imaginable emotion. Some even bore faces of fear and worry, as if this might be their last day.
There were those clad in brilliant robes of house colors, crests stitched proudly into their sleeves. Many bore weapons blades, halberds etched with runes while some stood with none, yet their bodies hummed with mana. Each of them had a story, a family, a background that either screamed nobility or whispered ambition.
Nobles stood in clusters, noses in the air, murmuring among themselves, casting disdainful glances at those in simpler clothes or without family crests. Commoners, by contrast, kept their distance, yet the ambition in their eyes burned brighter than any noble's. Their gazes held hunger, but also a dark, eerie resolve, as if they had long since said their goodbyes and accepted that they might not return.
Soon, nobles and high-standing candidates began whispering among themselves.
"Did you hear? The heirs of all four top families are joining the academy this year too!"
"Are you utterly devoid of sense? Who could possibly be ignorant of that?" one noble scoffed sharply, only to be silenced by another.. likely of higher rank.
"No, it's three duke houses, you imbecile. The Virelan heiress is already well into her fourth year."
"Just look up at the crowd above. That alone tells you everything."
Their gazes drifted upward toward the stands packed with nobles.
From below, many gulped as they looked up.
High above the arena, built into the stone walls themselves, were five grand viewing chambers, spaced evenly as if placed with deliberate intent. The center one was the largest, radiating authority and reverence.
These five chambers, visible to all, were reserved for the Four Duke Families. The highest slightly elevated above the rest.. belonged to the Royal Family.
Royal Guards stood before it like stone statues: strong, unmoving, radiating a crushing aura. Each chamber bore its house flag, fluttering in the wind.
The Royal House sat at the center, its crest a divine crown crossed by two swords gleaming under the sun.
Flanking it were the Four Grand Duke Houses, each cloaked in their own majesty:
The shifting illusions of Virelan
The blazing heat of Drakenvyr
The blooming spirit vines of Faerelith
And the radiant glow of Luminus
"Yeah, look at the Royal Knights in the stands. I think the Royal Princess might be joining the academy this year too. Otherwise, I don't think the family would've sent their representatives let alone Royal Guards," one whispered, gulping. "This might be the first time in history since the academy's founding that heirs from all Four Duke Families and the Royal Family are present in one academy."
"That's… scary. But still, I don't get it. Why are they even taking the Academy Trial Test? As far as I know, people like them get directly admitted to the highest classes. What's the point?" another candidate asked nervously.
"Obviously, genius, it's because they want to prove who stands first. It's a race a contest to determine supremacy. Though I doubt the Royal Princess will participate, the rivalry among the duke houses is certain to unfold."
"Since the Virelan family's heiress is already in her fourth year, the competition will likely be among the remaining three houses. That might also explain why it won't be a fully fledged contest and why the patriarchs themselves aren't present. If all four houses were involved, this would've been a far grander affair. That's probably why only representatives showed up."
While such discussions spread across the arena, far from the crowd in an almost conspicuously isolated spot stood a lone figure in a black robe. It covered him from head to toe, his face hidden beneath its shadowed hood. Yet if one looked closely, they would notice his pale complexion, sharp features, and obsidian-black eyes so deep it felt as though one might sink into them. His hair, dark royal purple-blue, slipped faintly into view.
He stood silently, expressionless as if incapable of showing emotion at all, as though it were permanently etched into his face. But inwardly, he sighed, resisting the urge to shake his head.
[Tsk, tsk, host… this seems more like an event made just for you. What a perfect villain's entrance, huh? Who else could carry an aura like yours? Just look all the higher-ups are somehow connected to you…]
[Your ex-fiancée, the Royal Princess herself, is here. Your elder sister, Nova Virelan, who hates you to the core. The protagonist the golden sun of this world your fated and eternal enemy, destined to kill you: Aeron Drakenvyr. And of course, how could we forget your childhood friend who accused you of rape Selene Luminus… Oh, she's a Saintess now too. You are fucked.]
[Honestly, you really are the ideal villain host. Enemy of the strongest empire in the world, with all four duke families and even the royal family stacked against you.]
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