Below Alex, the scene was chaotic.
Thousands of young men and women were packed into the plaza, their voices a dull roar that reached him even at this height.
Alex didn't descend.
He remained hovering about twenty meters above the crowd, his silver hair catching the sunlight.
To the people below, he looked less like a student and more like a visiting deity.
His deep red eyes scanned the crowd, indifferent to the gasps and pointing fingers.
"He's here!"
"Look! He's actually flying! Is that a treasure or a skill?"
"That's Alex Moriarty... the Grade 0 elite of the alliance."
Alex ignored the chatter.
His "Eye of Revelation" was already active, scanning the sea of people.
He wasn't looking for the crowd.
He was looking at the particularly intense gazes.
The first person to catch his eye was a girl with hair like a raging bonfire.
She stood next to a massive Fire Maned Lion that breathed embers with every exhale.
[Name: Selena Valentina]
Cultivation Talent: SSS rank
Bloodline Talent: Space Manipulation
(She can teleport living or non living objects across distances.)
"Space manipulation," Alex mused. "That's a headache to deal with in a fight."
Not far from her stood a young man leaning against a pillar.
He held a simple wooden staff, but the way he gripped it made it look more dangerous than a loaded railgun.
[Name: Rey Rosario]
Cultivation Talent: SSS rank
Bloodline Talent: Spear Saint
(Unmatched mastery over spears; the weapon is an extension of his soul.)
Then, he looked toward a place from where an intense pressure was coming.
Ten Saint level beings were making a circle.
In that circle, a girl in a purple gown, her face veiled,standing with a grace that seemed to defy the very air she breathed.
[Name: Anna Celestus]
Cultivation Talent: SSS rank
Bloodline Talent: Gravity Manipulation
(Can increase gravity up to 1000x or reverse it entirely.)
Alex whistled internally.
"Space, Spear, and Gravity. This year's class is a monster den."
But there was a fourth gaze.
It didn't come from a flashy airship or a giant lion.
It was a cold, piercing stare that felt like a needle against his neck. But he couldn't find the person.
So he closed his eyes and expanded his Mental Domain.
The invisible ripple of his mind swept across the plaza, mapping every heartbeat and every shadow.
There.
In the shadow cast by a girl, a silhouette was shifting unnaturally.
[Name: Aren Nightveil]
Cultivation Talent: SSS rank
Bloodline Talent: Shadow Assimilation
(Can merge with darkness, move at 10x speed in shadows, and create shadow clones.)
"A lurker," Alex smirked. "And he's the only one showing actual hostility."
Aren Nightveil was proud.
The Nightveil clan was synonymous with the dark.
They were the unseen blades of the Alliance.
Seeing Alex floating so arrogantly in the sky, drawing every eye in the city, grated on his nerves.
He wanted to drag that silver haired boy down into the dirt.
Alex felt that intent.
It was sharp, unrefined, and directed solely at him.
"You want to play in the dark?" Alex whispered to himself. "Let's see how you like being exposed."
Alex didn't move a finger.
He simply focused his mind and activated Existential Nullity.
He didn't spread it wide.
He focused it solely on Aren. His bloodline talent was terrifying because no one could tell that he was using the talent.
The next, a teenage boy was launched forward as if the shadow itself had spat him out.
Aren hit the pavement with a dull thud, landing squarely on his backside.
He scrambled to stand, his face was pale. His eyes were wide opened. He couldn't understand what happened just now.
He tried to dive back into the shadows.
But to his horror, he couldn't.
His connection to his bloodline, the very essence of his power, felt like it had been erased from his DNA.
"What...?", Aren muttered,his heart was beating like a drum from anxiety.
However, the crowd saw something different.
Aren had popped out from the shadow of a very startled, very beautiful young noblewoman.
"Pervert!" someone shouted.
"Creeping around girls' shadows? How pathetic!"
A burly student, eager to make a name for himself, stepped forward.
"Hey, creep! You think you can just hide under people's feet? Get lost before I break your legs!"
The boy swung a heavy fist toward Aren's face.
In that instant, Alex deactivated his talent.
The click of the bloodline returning was like a jolt of electricity to Aren.
Before the burly boy's fist could connect, Aren vanished.
He reappeared behind the attacker, a black steel dagger pressed firmly against the boy's jugular vein.
"Don't act tough in front of the wrong people," Aren whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and lingering fear. "It could take your life away."
The burly boy froze.
Sweat poured down his face.
He could feel the cold edge of the blade.
The crowd went silent.
The "pervert" was actually a high level assassin.
Anna Celestus looked at Aren with a bored expression.
"You are from the Nightveil clan, right?" she said. "Why are you using your talent to cause a scene on campus? It's beneath your status."
Aren ignored her.
He looked up at Alex, his eyes bloodshot.
"You! Don't just flex your Spirit Master identity up there. It's a parlor trick. If you're a real man, come down here and fight me properly!"
The crowd gasped.
A direct challenge to the Grade 0 elite? But the challenger was not a no body. He was from the Nightveil clan.
The name Nightveil was synonymous to terror.
Alex, who had been watching the drama with interest, simply leaned back.
He sat down on his floating silver board as if it were a comfortable park bench, dangling one leg off the side.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a crisp red apple, and took a loud, crunching bite.
"I don't fight children," Alex said, his voice amplified by spirit energy so it carried across the entire plaza. "Go home, drink some milk and maybe some Horlicks. Grow up a few inches, then come find me."
He took another bite of the apple.
His red eyes looked down at Aren with genuine pity.
The disrespect was so casual, so absolute, that Aren felt like he might explode.
"You—!"
Before the conflict could escalate into a bloodbath, a massive pressure descended from the sky.
It wasn't the sharp, killing intent of an assassin.
It was the heavy, suffocating weight of a mountain.
A middle aged man with graying temples and a scar running down his cheek descended from the main balcony of the institution.
Behind him were five other instructors.
Three men and two women.
All of them radiated the unmistakable aura of high level Martial Artists.
"Enough," the man said.
His voice wasn't loud.
But it vibrated in everyone's chest.
"I am Harold James, Saint level Martial Artist and your lead proctor for today," he announced. "The Aurora Martial Institution is not a playground for clan squabbles. You are here to prove you have the right to survive the wasteland."
Harold's eyes swept over the SSS rank geniuses.
He lingered on Selena's lion.
On Rey's staff.
On Anna's poised figure.
Finally, he looked up at Alex.
Alex was still sitting on his board, munching on his apple.
A small, almost invisible glint of approval flashed in Harold's eyes.
Most students were trembling under his Saint level pressure.
Alex Moriarty hadn't even stopped chewing.
"The test will consist of three phases: Talent Resonance, Combat Simulation, and the Survival Trial," Harold continued. "Thousands of you are here. Only five hundred will remain by the end of the test."