A hush swept across the field once more as the next candidate stepped forward.
His hair , mostly silver, streaked with thin black strands that caught the light like blades ,gave him an almost otherworldly presence. His eyes, deep jet black, seemed to drink in everything around him, calm and unreadable.
He stopped at the center, posture straight, face utterly composed.
"Grey Dawn," he said simply, voice steady as stone.
A few murmurs rippled through the crowd. Even Void's gaze sharpened slightly, though his expression remained unreadable.
Grey gave a single nod, then turned toward the treadmill. Without hesitation, he stepped onto it, his movements precise and deliberate, not tense like the others, not prideful like the red-haired boy, but controlled.
The assistant adjusted the console.
"Ready when you are," he said.
Grey placed his hands in his pockets at his sides, eyes fixed straight ahead.
"Start it."
The machine hummed to life, the sensors blinking. The belt began to roll beneath his feet , slow at first, then faster, faster still. Yet Grey's rhythm didn't break. His breaths stayed even, his steps light but firm, his balance perfect.
The display flickered.
6.3. 6.7. 7.1. 7.5.
The murmurs grew louder. A few gasps escaped the onlookers.
Still, he didn't push harder. He didn't strain. It was as if he had already calculated exactly how much was needed — and nothing more.
Void tilted his head slightly. "Interesting," he murmured.
When the belt slowed to a stop, Grey stepped off smoothly, not even winded. He glanced once at the display — a glaring 8.3 plastered across it — before turning toward the next test.
He grasped the hammer.
And then— BANG!
The sound cracked through the air like thunder. The scale shot upward, the digits racing past six, then seven, only slowing as it neared 8.0. Gasps rippled through the arena.
Grey didn't waste a second. He moved to the endurance chamber, stepping inside with the same calm expression. Minutes later, the machine released him — the display behind it flashing 8.1.
Without pause, he approached the final test — Magic Power.
He stood there for a moment, silent, as if gathering something unseen. Then he placed his palm on the glowing surface. The machine whirred violently, its lights flickering faster and faster.
The numbers blinked wildly before freezing at 8.6.
The crowd fell utterly silent.
Even Void's composure cracked — his eyes widened ever so slightly.
He hadn't expected that.
He knew Grey was from one of the Six Families… but this level of magic was beyond even his expectations.