Imperial Academy month Three
Three months had passed since their first step into the Imperial Thaumaturgical Academy. Every hallway, classroom, and training field now pulsed with sharpened ambition and intensifying rivalry.
In a spacious classroom bathed in the golden light of morning, Lucius Octavianus Magnus sat at the front, holding a thick tome on light magic. Beside him, Viella D'Arceon leaned back lazily in her chair, eyes still fixed on the same scroll.
"Are you sure that spell's enough for today's duel?" Viella asked, a sly smile curving her lips. "Or will you rely on your flashy sword again?"
Lucius chuckled lightly.
"Flashy or not, I've already beaten the top three duelists in our class. You'll need to train harder if you want to catch up."
Viella narrowed her eyes.
"Don't get cocky, Octavianus. I have a surprise you haven't seen yet."
Meanwhile, out in the training yard, Eric Vale and Klyven Mourne clashed swords under a watchful instructor. Klyven, broad and muscular, swung with brute force. Eric, leaner, relied on speed and reactive defense.
"You're leaning too much on raw power, Eric," Klyven panted. "At this pace, you'll burn out before the fight ends."
Eric wiped sweat from his brow.
"I know. Just need time to adjust to this new style. Long days in the fields don't mean I'm easy prey."
Elsewhere on the field, Darian Duval stood still, eyes fixed on a distant point. He rarely spoke, but his icy presence couldn't be ignored. A few students cast glances his way then quickly looked away. Darian didn't demand attention; it came to him regardless.
"Look at him. Darian," whispered one student. "I think he'll be one of the most dangerous here."
"Probably," another replied. "But he's… strange. Always so calm. Like he already knows what's coming."
In a nearby corridor, not far from the main hall, Mira Thassel and Sylas Greylund walked side by side, discussing their magic strategy.
"I heard Lucius is mastering light magic faster than anyone," Mira said with a grin.
Sylas shrugged.
"Yeah, but Viella's not far behind. Their duels are always the ones worth watching."
Mira laughed.
"I just hope I can be as good as them someday."
In another room, students gathered for group exercises some sparring, others deep in elemental theory. They exchanged knowledge, supported each other, but never stopped competing.
Darian sat on the edge of a bench, silently observing. Within him, a vow remained unshaken.
"I won't disappoint him."
The thought echoed, tied to a promise etched deep in his being.
Though many eyes watched him with awe or caution, Darian stayed grounded. For him, this academy wasn't about fame or praise—but about survival, growth, and the preparation for a far more brutal world outside.