The Arcane Combat Academy did not believe in modesty. From the academy's founding, it has never had.
From the moment the massive academy gates had opened at dawn, the message was clear—this was not a place for the ordinary.
Towering spires of white stone pierced the sky, etched with glowing runic lines that pulsed faintly with arcane power.
Enchanted banners hung from every archway, bearing the crests of ancient houses and past graduates who had gone on to become generals, archmages, and glorified executioners.
The courtyard Elijah had stood in the day before was unrecognizable now.
Where there had been scattered students and quiet tension, there now stood a vast, organized assembly.
Rows upon rows of first-year initiates filled the lower tiers, their black uniforms forming a sea of palpable tension and curious anticipation.
Above them, elevated platforms held faculty members, observers, and nobles who stood watching them with morbid interest.
And at the very center of it all stood the Selection Platform.
The platform was a circular dais of polished obsidian, carved with intricate sigils that shifted subtly within its surface in erratic patterns.
At its core floated a crystalline structure, tall, faceted, and glowing faintly from within.
This was the Arcane Core.
The crystalline core dated back to a time before the kingdom's founding.
The information surrounding its origin was quite obscure with the available sources only revealing it had been discovered by the first king.
The man known as the King of Beginnings.
With its power, he'd unified the people in the land forming the current nobility and peasant status quo.
Elijah stood among the other initiates with his hands in his pockets.
His gaze drifted lazily over the magnanimous spectacle. His posture was relaxed, almost bored but his eyes held their usual sharp edge, taking everything in.
Of course, deep down he was slightly nervous as well.
The security was much tighter today.
The air itself was quite different.
It felt heavy, charged, and electric.
Unseen to the naked eye, several layers of enchantments and arcane detection arrays hummed with power, the first encompassing the large courtyard and then the rest spanning the large academy.
With several archmages and sword saints in attendance, there were very few individuals who could truly pose a threat to the academy but from the look of things, the higher-ups weren't taking any chances.
Closing his eyes, Elijah exhaled slowly.
All around him, excited whispers rippled through the crowd.
"—they say House Voss is sending their heir this year—"
"—I heard a Valehart is here too—"
"—if you get below C-rank, you're basically finished—"
"—no, they expel you outright—"
"—shut up, they're starting—"
Elijah rolled his eyes in amusement.
"Idiots…"
Just then, a low steady hum cut through the noise.
At the sound, every murmur died instantly.
A few moments later, at the edge of the platform, a tall figure stepped forward, moving slowly and confidently across the platform.
The man was robed in a deep violet garb with silver threads tracing complex spell patterns across the fabric of his uniform.
Flowing silver hair cascaded down past his shoulders into a neat ponytail.
But perhaps the most intimidating thing about him was his eyes. His eyes were an unusual silver colour that occasionally seemed to glow with power.
His presence alone seemed to anchor the space.
Headmaster Alaric Dorne.
Even without an introduction, everyone gathered knew who the man was.
His gaze swept across the assembly once, his piercing silver eyes boring through the crowd of students with burning intensity.
Everything about the man screamed power.
"Today," he began, his voice carrying effortlessly across the entire courtyard, "you stand at the threshold of your future."
It was only then that Elijah noticed that he wasn't using an amplification spell.
"What the hell…"
Oblivious of Elijah's amazement, Alaric continued.
"Here, you will be seen for what you are. Not what you claim to be. Abd definitely not what you pretend to be."
He paused, his burning gaze bearing down on them once more.
The Arcane Core pulsed faintly behind him.
"This academy does not create greatness."
His eyes hardened slightly.
"It reveals it."
A ripple shifted through the crowd.
The tension in the air instantly spiked. A massive round of applause shook the ground that they stood on.
Elijah shifted his weight slightly, expression unchanged. Small beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead.
In his pockets, he could feel his hands becoming slightly clammy.
"Damn…"
Dorne raised a hand and the entire courtyard fell silent once more.
"Step forward when your name is called. Place your hand upon the Core. It will do the rest."
Elijah took in a breath, his gaze flickering to the obsidian dais behind the head master.
Somehow the Core and its intricate dais looked much more ominous than before.
"No interference will be tolerated."
The air tightened.
Dorne stepped back.
He didn't wish them lack or fortune.
Elijah quietly chuckled, shaking his head slightly.
" I guess the truly powerful don't need luck."
Another figure—an instructor, much younger than the headmaster but no less composed—stepped forward with a scroll in hand.
"The Arcane Selection will now begin."
Then the first name was called.
The early rounds were… predictable.
Predictable but not necessarily boring.
Students stepped forward one by one, placing trembling hands against the Arcane Core. Each time, the crystal responded—light shifting, patterns forming, results projected in glowing script above the platform.
"Affinity: Wind. Grade: C."
"Affinity: Earth. Grade: B-."
"Affinity: Water. Grade: C+."
A ripple of murmurs followed each result. Some were relieved. Some were notably disappointed.
And a few… utterly devastated.
One boy dropped to his knees when his result appeared.
"Affinity: None. Grade: F."
A defeating silence swept through the courtyard.
Then the murmurs began.
"F?"
"—How is that even possible?"
"—totally worthless…"
" How is even here?"
" —an utter joke!"
A moment later, two attendants quietly escorted him away.
The boy didn't protest, his body was limp, his eyes staring emptily into space.
He was…broken.
Elijah quietly watched it all.
The results climbed gradually as stronger candidates were called. B-ranks became more common. Occasionally, an A- sparked excitement among the crowd.
But the real tension—the real anticipation—was building toward something else.
Names the people were waiting for.
The names that carried weight before they were even spoken.
Then it happened.
The instructor glanced at the scroll once more but this time a subtle shift swept through the elevated platforms above.
The observers leaned forward.
The nobles straightened, their gazes becoming sharper
Even the faculty seemed… more attentive.
Elijah's eyes narrowed.
Am I imagining it?"
Then—
"Simon Voss."
The reaction was immediate.
A ripple of recognition surged through the entire assembly.
Elijah stiffened slightly then almost imperceptibly, his eyes warily darted around.
"This day couldn't possibly get any worse…"
Of course, it just had to be him.
From the right side of the formation, Simon stepped forward.
The youth was just as Elijah remembered.
He exuded an aura of confidence and bore inhuman composure.
Elijah ground his teeth in irritation.
"Spoiled prick…"
His uniform was pristine, as expected—but now, in the full light of the ceremony, the details were impossible to miss.
The subtle embroidery.
The faint shimmer of enchanted threads. The Voss crest, elegantly stitched over his chest.
"Is that even allowed…"Elijah thought, a hint of jealousy springing up in his heart.
Simon walked with the confidence of someone who had never doubted his place.
It was almost as though he already knew the outcome.
A ripple of Whispers followed him.
"—that's him…"
"—House Voss—"
"—they say his mana control is already…"
Simon ignored it all.
He stepped onto the platform without hesitation.
He looked utterly composed, no jitters, no nerves, a small smile etched on his face.
Elijah couldn't decide which was more annoying, the irritating smile on his face or the lack of jitters.
Simon approached the Arcane Core and placed his hand against its surface.
For a moment—
Nothing happened.
Then—the crystal flared.
Abruptly and quite violently.
A shared gasp swept through the crowd.
At the dais, golden light erupted outward, lines of energy racing across the surface of the Core in complex, interlocking patterns. The air itself seemed to vibrate as the core processed him.
Excited murmurs broke out across the crowd then quickly intensified.
The golden light condensed then focused piercing through the sky.
And then—
The result appeared.
Affinity: Lightning
Grade: A+
Mana Capacity: Exceptional
Combat Potential: High
For a split second, there was silence.
Then—the courtyard erupted.
Even among the elite, an A+ was rare.
Lightning affinity only made him more dangerous.
Simon removed his hand slowly, as if the result had been expected.
"Arrogant prick..."
He turned, gaze sweeping briefly over the crowd.
For the briefest moment—his eyes met Elijah's.
A flicker of recognition appeared in their depths, his lips curling into the faintest of smiles for a brief moment and then he promptly looked away.
And stepped down.
With that first show of monstrous power, the energy of the ceremony had shifted.
Everything that was going to follow was undoubtedly going to be compared to that moment.
Elijah silently cursed under his breath.
"Damn..."