Morning settled quietly over the academy after the festival.
For once, the halls weren't filled with tension or competition. Students moved slower than usual, some still exhausted from the night before while others carried flowers, prizes, or bags of food stolen from festival stalls.
The academy almost felt normal.
Almost.
Modred walked through the eastern corridor with one hand in his pocket while Aurelia walked beside him carrying a small paper bag filled with pastries she'd insisted on buying earlier.
"…You bought too much," he said.
"…You ate half of them."
"…That's not the point."
"…Then what is."
"…I don't know yet."
Aurelia laughed softly beneath her breath.
The morning light spilled through the tall windows beside them, catching against her pale blonde hair as they walked. A few students glanced their way before quickly looking elsewhere.
News spread fast inside the academy.
Especially this kind.
"…People are staring," Aurelia muttered quietly.
"…Let them."
"You say that because it's not embarrassing for you."
He looked at her once. "…You're the one holding my arm."
She immediately loosened her grip slightly before realizing he was smirking.
"…You're annoying."
"…You still like me."
"…Unfortunately."
That earned an actual laugh out of him.
Before he could answer—
BOOOOOOM.
A deafening sound shook the academy.
Students immediately stopped moving.
Another explosion followed outside, louder this time, accompanied by cheers erupting from the lower training grounds.
Dante's voice echoed somewhere in the distance.
"…MOVE YOUR ASS!"
Modred sighed immediately. "…Of course."
The central arena was packed.
Students crowded the elevated platforms surrounding the massive concrete combat field while instructors stood near the upper balconies trying—and failing—to maintain order.
At the center stood Vice Commander Raizen Holt, arms crossed behind his back.
Beside him floated a giant black screen formed from Arcana projection.
Names. Ranks. Symbols.
Competition brackets.
The noise across the arena gradually lowered as Holt finally spoke.
"The academy's annual Dominion Selection begins in three weeks."
Instant reaction.
Excitement exploded across the crowd.
Some students looked nervous. Others looked ready to kill each other immediately.
Holt continued calmly.
"The Dominion Selection is not a tournament for entertainment." His voice echoed sharply across the arena. "This competition determines academy advancement, military recommendations, squad placement… and direct recruitment eligibility."
That changed the atmosphere instantly.
Even the upperclassmen quieted slightly.
Because everybody understood what that meant.
The strongest squads across the continent watched this competition closely.
Including the Blutjäger.
Including Lance.
Dante stood near the front already grinning like a psychopath.
"…Finally."
Lightning snapped violently around his arm before disappearing.
Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. "…And there goes whatever sanity he had left."
"…He didn't have any," Julius replied.
Riven stayed silent beside them, though his eyes remained fixed on the projected brackets.
Taren adjusted his glasses slightly. "…The selection format changed."
Modred looked up.
Taren was right.
The brackets weren't normal.
Squad battles. Duel eliminations. Arcana adaptability trials. Combat simulations.
Far more aggressive than previous years.
Even Holt's expression remained colder than usual.
"The academy will no longer tolerate weakness," he said flatly. "Those unable to keep up will be removed from combat divisions entirely."
Silence followed.
Because nobody missed what he meant.
This wasn't training anymore.
The continent itself was changing.
And the academy knew it.
Dante stepped forward slightly, grin widening.
"…This is getting good."
Modred looked the same way.
The excitement settled deep in his chest almost immediately.
That familiar feeling.
Pressure. Violence. Competition.
The urge to prove something.
A faint heat flickered around his fingertips before fading.
Aurelia noticed.
"…You're excited."
"…A little."
"…You look worse than Dante."
"…That's impossible."
"Oi."
Dante looked back immediately. "…I heard that."
Arthur laughed. "…You should be proud."
"I'm going to break both of you."
"See?" Arthur pointed. "…Mentally unstable."
Dante ignored him completely, eyes locked onto the projected arena.
"…Three weeks…"
Lightning cracked softly around his shoulders.
"…Good."
Meanwhile, Aurelia quietly watched Modred instead of the screen.
The excitement in his eyes looked different today.
Sharper.
Alive.
And somehow—
that worried her more than it should have.
The crowd slowly began dispersing afterward, conversations spreading across the academy almost instantly.
Predictions. Rivalries. Fear.
Everyone already understood what the Dominion Selection meant.
Some would rise.
Others would disappear.
Modred and Aurelia eventually stepped away from the arena noise, walking toward the quieter garden paths behind the academy.
The wind moved softly through the trees above them.
"…You're going to enter," Aurelia said quietly.
"…Obviously."
"…You sound confident."
"I am."
She looked at him for a moment before speaking again.
"…Don't do anything reckless."
"…That's boring."
"…Modred."
He glanced sideways.
She looked serious now.
Not playful. Not teasing.
"…I mean it."
A small silence settled between them.
Then he sighed lightly.
"…I'll win."
Simple answer.
But something about the way he said it made her relax slightly anyway.
They stopped near the edge of the garden where the academy overlooked the distant city below.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Aurelia reached into the paper bag and held out another pastry toward him.
"…Last one."
"…You kept the best for last?"
"…Maybe."
He took it from her slowly.
"…You spoil me too much."
"…You complain too much."
"…Fair."
Aurelia smiled faintly.
Small. Soft.
The same expression that somehow calmed him down faster than anything else recently.