The eastern yard of the Academy pulsed with tension, the crowd of aspirants hushed as the stage's banners fluttered under the afternoon sun.
The spires loomed overhead, their runes glowing faintly. Caelumis, Torren, and Aeri stood shoulder-to-shoulder, their eyes fixed on the platform as Sylviora ascended, her silver hair catching the light like a crown.
Her presence silenced the murmurs, commanding every gaze in the sprawling yard.
"Good afternoon," Sylviora began, her voice clear and unshakable.
"The results for the first round will be announced shortly. Those who qualify may proceed to the counter to collect your wristband. This device will track your location and vital signs during the second round in the forest. It also monitors your points across various quests and includes features like party formation, point sharing, drone service, and checkpoint capture. These will be explained in detail once the qualified list is finalized."
Her gaze swept the crowd, cold and piercing. "Those who do not qualify are requested to leave the Academy premises. Your participation is appreciated. Shortly, the esteemed president of the Academic Department will join us to announce the top ten candidates of the first round. As the rounds progress, the top candidates will be highlighted after each stage. The remaining results will follow. Thank you, and all the best for the survival round."
Sylviora's words carried a weight that held the crowd captive. The Academy's tradition of elevating its student council was on full display. A first-year, same age, wielding power that dwarfed their own.
Caelumis's golden eyes narrowed, admiration tinged with awe. "Her confidence is unmatched," he murmured.
Torren snorted, his grin half-impressed, half-skeptical. "No kidding."
Aeri's gaze lingered on Sylviora, her sky-blue eyes thoughtful. "She was scouted by the Academy for her exceptional talent. But… there are rumors her position as heir is in jeopardy."
Torren's brows shot up, his voice low but curious. "Isn't she the legitimate daughter of Marquis Valthorne? How's she struggling to keep her heiress title with talent like that?"
Aeri shrugged, her expression guarded. "No one knows the full story. Just whispers that the Marquis is favoring another candidate."
The crowd buzzed, speculation swirling like a storm. Sylviora stepped down, her silver hair a beacon as she vanished behind the stage.
Torren leaned closer to Caelumis and Aeri, his voice low but tinged with awe. "Man, it's kinda lucky for her, right? Sylviora's exempt from the exam, got a seat locked in from the start."
Aeri's sky-blue eyes flicked to the stage, her expression thoughtful. "That's one way to see it, but she's representing the student council. I can't imagine the nerve it takes to stand up there in front of 135,000 strangers."
Torren nodded, his grin softening. "Yeah.., true."
The crowd stirred as two instructors climbed onto the stage, each holding a neatly folded chart. One bound with golden thread, the other with silver.
A massive poster, rolled tightly, was wheeled in on a trolley and placed behind the stage, its presence sparking whispers that rippled through the aspirants. Torren's eyes widened. "Is that poster the qualified list?"
"Likely," Caelumis said, his golden eyes narrowing as he, Torren, and Aeri stiffened, the weight of the moment pressing down like a storm.
A woman in her thirties strode onto the stage, her dark hair pulled into a severe bun, her presence commanding instant silence.
She paused, letting the whispers die, her deliberate calm amplifying the tension. The instructors handed her the charts, which she placed on the podium with a measured grace.
Tapping the microphone, she spoke, her voice smooth but edged with authority. "Good afternoon, everyone. I am Professor Veyra Solwyn, president of the Academic Division. As you've been informed, I'm here to announce the top ten of the first round."
She unfurled the chart with golden thread, the rustle of parchment deafening in the silence. Every aspirant froze, hearts pounding. "First place goes to Kaelith," she said, her tone eerily casual. "Congratulations."
"Oh. And Your house names are omitted because, within these walls, only you matter, not your family."
The crowd held its breath as she continued. "Second place, Riven. Third place, Thalindra. Fourth place, Aeri."
Caelumis and Torren whipped their heads toward Aeri, whose lips curved into a radiant smile, her sky-blue eyes sparkling with pride. "Congrats!" they said in unison, their voices bursting with excitement.
"Fifth place, Joren," Professor Solwyn said. "Congratulations to the top five. Your academic prowess is truly worth celebrating before this crowd, and you've earned a head start."
She set aside the golden chart and opened the silver-threaded one, her voice unwavering. The names rolled out, each a spark in the tense air, until she reached the final slot. "Tenth place, Caelumis."
Caelumis exhaled, a rush of relief flooding through him, his shoulders sagging as the knot in his chest unraveled. Aeri's smile widened, her face glowing. "Congrats, Caelumis!" she said, her voice warm with joy.
"Amazing, dude!" Torren grinned, clapping Caelumis's shoulder. "Though I wouldn't call tenth place 'doing okay,'" he teased, his side-eye playful but his smile genuine.
Caelumis scratched his head, his cheeks flushing. "Thanks." His gaze flicked to the stage, where the trolley now moved forward, ready to hoist the massive poster. "Let's check for your name when they put it up, Torren. Is that okay, Aeri?"
"Of course," Aeri said, her smile unwavering. "I'll come too."
Professor Solwyn's voice cut through again. "Congratulations to all in the top ten. All the best for the upcoming rounds. The remaining results, from ranks 11 to 40,000, will be displayed on the poster. The second round will proceed with these 40,000 students in batches. Thank you for your time."
Without a glance at the crowd, she turned and left, her steps echoing with finality.
The yard buzzed, aspirants surging toward the stage as the poster was unfurled.
The eastern yard swarmed with aspirants, their voices a chaotic hum as they pressed toward the massive poster, its inked ranks spelling hope or heartbreak for 135,000 souls.
Caelumis, Aeri, and Torren squeezed through the crowd, their eyes scanning the endless list for Torren's name. "I found it!" Aeri said, her sky-blue eyes bright. "Torren, is your invitation form number ending in 1536?"
Torren leaned in, his grin flashing. "That's me! Where is it?"
Aeri pointed to the 39th rank, where "Torren" was scrawled beside his application number. "Congrats! You made it!"
Caelumis turned, his golden eyes warm. "Congrats, Torren."
Torren let out a whoop, jumping with a fist pump. "Oohoo! I get to see another day in the Academy!"
Caelumis chuckled, his tone teasing. "That's great enthusiasm, but maybe a bit misplaced."
Torren's grin widened, undaunted. "Don't worry, I'm planning to crush all the entrance rounds, naturally."
A sudden bang shattered the moment, the sound of a fist slamming against the thick pole anchoring the poster.
Every head turned as a man, his face twisted with rage, bellowed, "This entrance test is rigged! I wrote perfectly. Why isn't my name here? Who's the idiot that graded my paper, huh?" His clenched fist trembled, his voice a raw wound that silenced the crowd.
Guards, who'd been herding aspirants to prevent shoving, pushed through, their armored forms closing in. "Calm down, sir," one said, reaching for his arm.
The man jerked away, his eyes wild. "Do you know who I am? Get your filthy hands off me!" His scream echoed, drawing gasps. "I demand to see the evaluator now! I'll prove this whole thing's a sham!"
Sylviora appeared, her silver hair glinting as she strode through the parting crowd, her presence a blade cutting through the chaos. Her voice was calm, unshakable.
"The Academy's evaluation methods are not rigged. Every evaluator follows strict guidelines, and papers are scrutinized multiple times before results are finalized."
The man's face reddened, his voice a snarl. "Bullshit! You're just their bootlicker!"
Sylviora's composure didn't waver, ignoring his venom. "Your application form included a clause stating you accept the Academy's results, whatever they may be."
The man faltered, his lip bitten as the memory of that clause hit him. But his rage surged again, his glare burning into Sylviora. "So you can do whatever you want? I have a right to question the evaluator!"
"No, you don't," Sylviora said, her tone cold as steel. "We protect our evaluators' privacy to maintain decorum."
The man roared, shaking off the guards with a surge of strength. "You bitch, don't act cocky just 'cause they let you lick their boots!" He charged, his body crackling with mana, his fist aimed at Sylviora's face.
The crowd gasped, stumbling back as the guards lunged, too slow to catch him.
Sylviora moved like a phantom, her body blurring with blinding speed. Vines erupted from the ground, their thorny tendrils snaking around the man's limbs, tightening with every pulse of his mana.
"You…" he gasped, struggling, but the more he fought, the weaker he grew, his strength sapped by the vines' eerie grip. "What is this…?" His voice faded, his body slumping as the last of his mana drained away.
"Guards, please," Sylviora said, her voice calm, almost bored, as she glanced at the stunned sentinels. They snapped out of their daze, seizing the man and dragging him toward the exit, his protests fading into the distance.
Sylviora bowed slightly, her silver hair catching the sun. "Sorry for the disturbance. Please proceed with your duties. Those qualified, form a queue at the wristband counters. Those who aren't, follow the guards' guidance to the entrance."
She turned and walked off, her steps unhurried, as if she hadn't just subdued a mana-charged attacker with effortless grace.
The crowd buzzed, awe and fear rippling through them.
Torren's jaw hung slack, his earth-brown eyes wide as he muttered, "Damn! Isn't nature magic something only fourth-circle or above Earth users can pull off? I'm barely scraping by with one circle!" His voice trembled with awe, his hand brushing his chest as if checking his own meager power.
"She made quick work of that first-circle user, didn't she?" Aeri's tone was sharp, stripped of the warmth she'd worn moments ago, her sky-blue eyes cold as a winter sea.
Torren whipped his head toward her, startled by the icy edge, the friendly spark in her dimming.
Caelumis stood silent, his golden eyes no longer soft with sheepish charm. They gleamed now, sharp and calculative.