Chapter 3 – The Royal Knights' Admission Trial
The arena pulsed with a palpable energy. Every seat was filled, spectators perched on stairways, clinging to railings, even scaling walls to catch a glimpse of the trial. The roar of voices, cheers, and murmurs mingled with the tens of thousands of candidates awaiting their turn, creating an almost suffocating atmosphere.
Floating targets shimmered, moving unpredictably, challenging the precision and speed of each participant. The air itself crackled with magic, amplifying the tension that thickened with every heartbeat.
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Trial 1: Offensive Power
The whistle sounded like a clap of thunder, signaling the start. Candidates surged forward, aiming at the targets with determined focus. Lightning, fire, and torrents of water surged through the arena, striking the floating objects with varying success. Acclaims rose—some impressed, others astonished by the prodigies' skill.
When Eryon stepped forward, the air around him vibrated. His eyes glowed with electric intensity, and a crackling aura wrapped his body. He inhaled deeply, projecting his magic with a fluidity that seemed to slice through time itself.
Each bolt of electricity struck with uncanny accuracy, anticipating movement, calculating the perfect trajectory. Sparks erupted with every impact, shattering the targets with near-supernatural precision.
The crowd gasped:
> "Look… it's as if he's everywhere at once!"
"He's achieved perfection… it's terrifying."
Even the other candidates watched in awe and fear, unable to look away from the spectacle. Some instructors nodded subtly, impressed by the mastery on display.
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Beside him, Lancel Dargaris conjured a swirling vortex of flames. But he did not simply launch fire—he orchestrated a complex dance. Each movement unleashed a cascade of small explosions, brushing past the targets before striking them perfectly.
His magic was not just powerful—it was artistic. The fire twisted and turned with precision, flowing around obstacles, reaching the targets with elegance and deadly efficiency. Each impact emitted a glowing red spark that mesmerized the spectators.
> "Incredible… he's not just hitting the target, he's putting on a show!"
"A true prodigy… the flames obey his very will."
Lancel ended his display with a faint, satisfied smile, as if no one could possibly match him.
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Grayce Melric stepped forward with the grace of flowing water. Her deep blue eyes locked onto the target, channeling mana from the surrounding water. The liquid rose, forming sharp blades and fluid projectiles, each strike precise to the millimeter.
Her movements were elegant and deliberate, magic flowing in a natural rhythm, almost musical. The target shattered into glistening fragments as Grayce landed lightly, her feet barely touching the ground.
> "Incredible… she's like a dancer, and the magic is her stage!"
"Even the best couldn't achieve that precision and fluidity!"
The crowd erupted into applause. Kaelen, despite his struggle, could not help but admire the mastery of the other participants.
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Trial 2: Defense
After a brief interlude, the arena shifted. The second trial began: defense. Word spread quickly—each candidate would face a level-3 orc.
Whispers rolled through the stands like a wave:
> "Level 3… that's insane!"
"Those orcs are deadly. Survival is no guarantee."
The grandstands quivered with excitement and tension. Thousands of eyes scrutinized every candidate, every move, every sign of weakness.
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Lancel Dargaris
Before the massive orc, Lancel remained unshaken. Flames spun around him in a protective barrier, absorbing every blow with astonishing ease. His movements were precise and swift, anticipating attacks and countering with razor-sharp bursts of fire that pushed the monster back effortlessly.
He completed the trial with an arrogant smile, as if he had waltzed through it, prompting murmurs among the spectators:
> "Too easy for him…"
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Eryon
Eryon raised a barrier of crackling lightning. Each strike from the orc sparked blinding light and a sharp clap of thunder that shook the arena. The beast struck again and again, but every attack was repelled without a hint of strain from Eryon.
He moved with fluid speed, sending bolts of electricity in precise bursts, controlling the monster at a distance. The crowd roared with admiration, unable to look away from his astonishing control.
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Grayce Melric
Grayce transformed partially into water, blending and flowing around the orc's claws and blows. She absorbed impacts, softened strikes, and countered with razor-sharp water jets. Her movements were so fluid that she seemed nearly invisible, a strategy worthy of a high-ranking knight.
Spectators whispered in awe:
> "How can she control water with such finesse?"
"Even a level-4 might not have that mastery!"
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Kaelen
Kaelen's heart pounded as he faced the level-3 orc. The monstrous creature towered over him—more than three meters tall, muscles rippling, claws sharp, eyes glowing red. Its very presence was intimidating, enough to make most hesitate.
The instructor leaned close and murmured:
> "Kaelen… if you fail this trial, you will be dismissed."
The weight of expectation was suffocating. The crowd, now fully aware of the danger, held its breath. Eyes followed every movement of the boy with half-red, half-white hair, murmurs of concern and anticipation blending in the charged air.
Kaelen gripped his sword tightly, drawing a steadying breath. Every lesson, every drop of sweat, every word of advice from his parents seemed to converge into one singular point of determination.
> "No matter what… I have to succeed. I have to move forward…" he whispered, eyes locked on the massive orc before him.
Silence fell over the arena. Even the crowd's cheers seemed to vanish. For the first time, Kaelen could feel something stir within him—a faint pulse of power, unrecognized but waiting. The destiny that had always been unknown now hummed around him, ready to manifest.
The orc stepped forward, claws raised. Kaelen adjusted his stance, heart racing, every nerve alive. The trial was more than physical—it was a test of courage, resolve, and the first taste of the path that fate had chosen for him.