The banners of the Faeloria Royal Academy fluttered in the wind, each bearing the sigil of the kingdom: a white phoenix engulfed in golden flames.
The Royal Tournament had returned.
Held once every three years, it was a grand event where the finest young talents of the kingdom—and selected nobles from foreign lands—competed for glory, prestige, and royal favor. For students of Class Arcanum, it was the perfect battlefield to showcase their strength.
The academy's coliseum had been transformed into a grand arena. Floating platforms hovered high above the ground. Elemental barriers rippled in the sky. Mages adjusted wards and healers stood at the ready.
Inside the viewing chamber, nobles from all corners of the continent sat with bated breath.
Among them sat Queen Seraphina, King Alarion, Duchess Briarwyn, and even King Raegor of the Beastkin Tribes.
Serenil, dressed in a modified dueling coat trimmed in night black and silver—a nod to his Soul Gear Voidrender: Mugen no Kurayami—stood among the other chosen participants. His gaze swept across the field.
Beside him stood Hestia, now a proud member of Class Arcanum, her expression sharp and composed.
Jon Iskareth adjusted his gloves, Peter Arkwell smirked as he summoned tiny embers of turquoise fire, and Ned Myrkwyn stood calm and resolute like an unmoving blade.
Robert Siltharion stretched and yawned. "Finally, some fun. Hope there are pretty girls watching."
As fanfare erupted, the headmaster, Grandmaster Caerthas Elirion, raised his staff, his voice echoing magically throughout the coliseum.
> "Let the Royal Tournament… commence!"