To the nobles, the statue was nothing more than a dusty relic in a forgotten part of the forest—an old monument left behind by some ancient warrior whose legend had turned to myth.
But they didn't know the truth.
The figure carved from stone... was not just a tribute. It was a vessel. And inside it, Ray had placed a fragment of his soul—his weakest clone—imbued with just enough power to speak and think, but nothing more.
For decades, it had remained dormant.
Until today.
The stone eyes flickered with faint golden light.
Cracks formed across its chest and face as energy surged within it for the first time in a century. The air shimmered around the statue as divine presence leaked out in slow, deliberate waves.
The two nobles—a young woman in elegant noble robes and her older brother clad in ceremonial armor—stepped back instinctively.
The statue moved. It turned its head slowly, stone grinding against stone, and looked directly at them.
"What," it said in a low, echoing voice, "are you doing here?"
The siblings exchanged a tense glance.
"We were... instructed by the Grandmaster to seek out lost relics near the border," the brother replied cautiously, hand near his sword.
"The Academy believes a divine relics may be hidden here," the sister added, standing firm despite the oppressive pressure.
The statue's glowing eyes narrowed.
"A relic, you say? Why do you need it?"
The sister bowed slightly. "To protect the Empire. To kill all the demon."
Silence followed. A long, heavy pause that made the forest itself seem to hold its breath.
Then, without warning, the world around them dissolved.
The trees, the ground, the sky—all vanished.
In their place rose a vast arena of ancient stone, floating high in a swirling void. Glowing runes spun in circles, forming barriers and sigils. Above them hovered a single object: a bow, silver and radiant, humming with faint energy.
"I shall give you a test, then," the voice boomed. "To see if you are worthy."
The illusion was flawless. The arena shifted without warning, tossing the siblings through challenges both mental and physical.
First came the battlegrounds—desert heat that seared their skin, frozen tundra that numbed their limbs. Then beasts—phantom wolves, sky serpents, flame-stitched ravens that attacked with relentless fury.
Next were the riddles. Walls of flame etched with cryptic phrases forced them to think fast or be consumed. Each failure brought pain. Each success brought more questions.
And then came the final trial—a soul storm. A pressure that pulled at their essence, trying to unravel their thoughts, their memories, their sense of self.
It lasted an hour. Maybe more.
When the illusion finally ended, the nobles collapsed to their knees. Sweat soaked their robes. Hands trembled.
The statue loomed above them, silent.
"...You look weak," it said flatly.
They didn't argue.
A moment later, the glowing bow descended slowly, landing in front of the sister. She looked up in disbelief.
"Take it," the statue commanded. "You've passed... barely."
The illusion shattered.
Suddenly, they were back in the forest. The trees, the birdsong, the sunlight—all had returned.
But the bow remained. Real. Solid. And pulsing with faint warmth.
The noblewoman held it as if it might vanish. Her brother swallowed hard.
"Was that... really a illusion?"
"I don't know," she whispered. "But it felt real."
---
Far above, hidden in the treetops, Ray stood silently, arms crossed.
His mask gleamed faintly in the morning light.
They really believed that was me. And that illusion? They looked like they'd seen death.
He chuckled quietly.
Well... it'll keep quiet for a while. Let's see where they're headed next.
With barely a sound, he turned and disappeared into the shadows.
---
Inside the Grand Academy, beneath towers laced with glowing spells and classrooms forged from living crystal, the guardians remained on high alert.
Each of the six masters—renowned warriors, sages, and mages—stood ready to attack a enemy thats stand in their way.
But none of them felt Ray.
None sensed the phantom walking unseen among their wards.
None except one.
In the highest chamber of the central tower, the Grandmaster sat cross-legged, meditating before a glowing diagram of the stars. A circle of light pulsed faintly beneath him.
His eyes opened slowly.
Pupils glowed blue.
"...A Spy," he murmured. "Or perhaps... a ghost."
He felt it for only an instant—a presence unlike anything the Academy had faced in generations. Ancient. Calm. Watching.
And then it was gone.
---
In the Academy's main hall, the two noble siblings knelt before a long marble table, the bow wrapped in protective cloth.
They laid it gently on the surface.
Their bodies were still trembling slightly.
"I've never felt anything like that illusion," the brother whispered.
"Neither have I," the sister agreed. "It wasn't just illusion... it was pressure. Ancient pressure. Like it was weighing our souls."
The Grandmaster stepped forward slowly.
He unwrapped the cloth, revealing the bow.
It shimmered faintly under the magical lights.
The Grandmaster studied it in silence.
Then he spoke.
"There is more to this...."
The nobles waited.
"What should we do about the relic, Grandmaster?"
He looked at them, voice calm.
"Study it for the time being. But do not touch it...."
He turned to the massive window overlooking the outer courtyard, where dozens of students trained with swords and spells.
"And do not speak of the legendary hero again," he added. "Not until we know who—or what—it truly was."
---
Ray, perched silently on a gargoyle above the courtyard, stared down at the students below.
He could hear the clash of weapons, the chants of spellwork, the pride of young hearts dreaming of glory.
So this is the Grand Academy...
His gaze drifted across the training fields, the soaring towers, the banners waving in the breeze.
Let's see if your so-called 'geniuses' are worth anything.