The silence after the challenge felt heavier than the magic in the air.
Instructor Calen's gaze flicked between the two boys — one dressed like a soldier born to prove, the other a village outsider with frost still clinging to his aura.
"This is not a duel," she repeated.
"This is to gauge, not to fight."
The other boy bowed slightly.
"Then let it be a measure. Nothing more."
He stepped into the ring.
A circular platform, edged in silver, etched with runes that flickered once as he crossed them.
"Riken Corth."
He spoke his name like it meant something.
Karl stepped in without saying his.
The air inside the circle changed.
Not warmer. Not colder.
Tighter.
Calen raised her hand.
A symbol lit in her palm.
"The rules are simple. No weapons. No lethal intent. You will strike with mana alone. First loss of balance or breach of boundary ends the match."
She glanced at Karl.
"Don't hold back. This is how the academy watches."
Riken didn't move like a student.
He moved like someone who had been taught how to stand — knees angled, spine loose, breath controlled. His aura flared with steady flame-colored threads, low to the ground.
Karl mirrored none of it.
He stood the way he always had — like someone unsure of the ground.
Then Riken moved.
Fast.
A blur of precision, not flash.
He struck with an open palm, a burst of heated mana spiraling from his wrist.
Karl caught it.
Not with his hands.
With instinct.
The mark on his chest pulsed once — cold, sharp, silent.
A crack of frost shot up his arm.
The impact threw him back — but not out of bounds.
Riken staggered.
Gasps.
Not from the blow.
From the frost.
A thin trail of ice, blooming from Karl's boots to the edge of the circle.
"What was—"
"That wasn't just affinity—"
"Did you see his eyes?"
Instructor Calen raised a hand.
"Match complete."
Karl stepped back, heart racing.
The cold in his veins wasn't fading.
It was… shifting.
Beneath it, something else stirred.
Another layer.
Another voice.
Not Raiven.
Not yet.
Calen approached slowly, her expression unreadable.
"There's more in you than what this circle can show."
A pause.
"The Headmaster will want to see you personally."
Karl didn't answer.
But deep in his chest, the mark flared once again — and this time… it didn't feel like frost.
It felt like fire, waiting to rise.