Meylin Academy, the most prestigious magic school in the land—not only for producing countless brilliant magicians but also for its rare policy of accepting commoners.
I will attend this academy. I've heard the trials for the scholarship are gruesome… but I'll probably win.
After a long journey, I've finally arrived.
Noan City is breathtaking at first glance. As I approached the gates, two guards in polished silver armor stood at the soldier's post, meticulously processing every entrant. The queue stretched endlessly, but I endured the wait.
Yet, the moment I stepped inside, my awe faded. The outer district was a chaotic sprawl of commoners and shady peddlers hawking their wares. The stench of sweat and overcooked meat hung thick in the air. Vendors swarmed me as I pushed through the crowd, their hands clutching at my sleeves, their voices a relentless chorus: "Buy this!" "Best price for you!"
It took forever to reach the inner city—where Meylin Academy stood in grandeur. But my relief was short-lived. The registration line coiled like a serpent, even longer than the one at the gates.
I finally made it and registered. Damn, I was thrilled! Tomorrow's trials couldn't come soon enough. But first, I needed a place to sleep—and with no money, that meant finding an alley.
Most were already occupied. At every corner, hollow-eyed figures slumped against walls, their bodies starved and broken. Some were so far gone they barely seemed alive. The worst were the young ones. They made me sick. How could they surrender so easily? Then again, I'd been like them once. If not for Big Bro, I'd have rotted in the slums of Axora, another nameless corpse.
I found an alley with 2 people a man and a boy my age, darker than the rest. Not that I feared.
As I slept, screams tore through the night. I kept my eyes shut, listening. A man's deep voice growled questions between wet, cracking sounds torture. A boy sobbed, begging him to stop. His cries clawed at me, relentless. I couldn't pretend anymore.
"Let him go," I said, rising.
The man turned. His gaze was a blade, sharp with bloodlust. The air itself thickened with the gap between our strength.
"This doesn't concern you, boy."
For a second, I wavered. Axora taught me better than this. But the boy's face, streaked with tears, burned in my vision.
"No," I snarled. "Let. Him. Go."
He smirked. Then he moved.
My body locked up betraying me. His fist sank into my gut, knocking the breath from my lungs. I crumpled, pain screaming through me as he turned back to his victims.
Not again. This time, my limbs obeyed. I shoved off the wall, launching a kick at his head. It connected hard.
"Not bad," he admitted, rubbing his jaw. Then he vanished.
A gust of wind at my back—I dodged purely on instinct. His boot grazed my ribs, missing its kill-shot mark.
(Impressed) "You dodged that?" He tilted his head. "What's your name, boy?"
My mind raced. What if I hadn't moved?
"E-Elijah," I mumbled.
"Great future ahead of you, Elijah."
Then he was there fist buried in my stomach again. I hit the ground, gasping, as he loomed over the man and boy.
"Where's the damn beast, Mumon?"
"I told you—I don't know! After we stole it, Suzuha took it!"
The attacker grabbed the boy's arm. Fire erupted from his palm.
(Terrified) "I swear! She said she was heading north please"
"I believe you."
And just like that, he was gone.
I exhaled, shaking.
Struggling to speak through my own aching ribs, I managed, "No problem."
"However, boy," he coughed, "you should refrain from putting yourself in such situations."
I wiped blood from my lip. "Couldn't just do nothing. My conscience wouldn't let me."
Mumon studied me with weary eyes. "I see. You're a good person." He nudged the sniffling boy forward. "This is my son, Nolan."
Nolan approached to help me up, but his hands trembled. As he pulled me to my feet, I caught the shame burning in his gaze This guy, my age, fought to save us while I whimpered like a child. I'm supposed to attend Meylin Academy, but I'm so weak...
While Nolan dusted me off, Mumon explained between labored breaths: the shady man belonged to a shadowy organization, and he and a woman named Suzuha had stolen something precious from them—a beast of some importance.
"Nolan," Mumon said suddenly, "I leave at dawn. You'll attend Meylin and grow strong. Understand?"
"No, Dad!" Nolan's voice cracked. "You're hurt—you can't go!"
He wasn't wrong. Even in the dim alley light, I could see Mumon's injuries weren't just from tonight—old wounds had reopened, his skin mottled with bruises in varying stages of healing.
"I have to, Nolan. You're a man now. You can care for yourself."
"That's not the point!" Nolan shouted. "You'll die out there!"
Mumon turned to me, ignoring his son's outburst. "Elijah, you've got a bright future. Any plans to attend a magic academy?"
Don't ignore him, I thought, irritated. But I answered, "Yes. I'm taking Meylin's scholarship trials tomorrow."
"I'm sure you'll pass." He patted Nolan's shoulder. "Be friends with Nolan here. I've paid his tuition."
I frowned. "Then what are you doing in a dump like this?"
Mumon laughed—a sound like gravel rattling in a tin. "That's a story for another day."
"Hey! Answer me!" Nolan grabbed his father's sleeve.
But Mumon was already moving. With a leap that defied his injuries, he scaled the wall and vanished into the night, Nolan's cries chasing after him.
I gripped Nolan's shoulder before he could give chase. "He'll be fine."
"He won't!" Nolan whirled on me, eyes wild. "Those people kill. My father's strong, but even he..." His voice broke.
"Do you know who they are?"
"No. Just that his party crossed them. He wouldn't tell me more."
I exhaled. "Then for the next three years, we get stronger. That's all we *can* do. Now sleep."
Morning Arrives
The sun stabbed through the alley cracks, waking me. Nolan was already up, kicking my boot.
"Rise and shine, hero. You're late."
I bolted upright. "What?"
Nolan smirked, though his eyes were still red-rimmed. "Trials start at dawn. You've got minutes."
I scrambled up, heart hammering. Nolan sprinted after me, shouting, "Wait for me!"
We skidded into the coliseum just as an instructor finished calling names. His gaze slid over me like I was something scraped off his boot.
"Sorry I'm late," I panted.
The man didn't respond. Just turned away.
(The hell's that look for?)
The instructor's voice boomed: "We begin with magic level testing. Those below Tier 3 will be eliminated."
What? I hadn't expected that. Then again, Meylin wasprestigious—letting commoners in didn't mean lowering standards.
I've got decent magic levels, I reassured myself. But I rarely use it… Well, no choice now.
"Form ten lines!"
After an eternity, my turn came.
"Finally."I wiped my sweaty palms. Damn, I hope I make it.
The tester pressed a crystal to my palm. It flared crimson.
"Tier 3. You pass."
"YES!" I nearly collapsed with relief, knees hitting the stone. "Thank you! May the gods bless you!"
With this cleared, nothing's stopping me.My dream of wealth as a royal soldier no, a battlemage was within reach. Visions of feasts and travels flashed in my mind. A smirk twisted my lips—
—until I noticed the stares.
Hah… hah…"I rubbed my neck, laughing awkwardly as I hurried to the next chamber.
The crowd here was thinner. *Fewer competitors. Good.
Soon, the instructor addressed the remaining 1,000: "Next is a battle royale. Twenty groups of fifty. The last ten standing in each advance."
Murmurs erupted. 200,000 down to 1,000
"Rules are simple,"he continued. "Stay inside the ring. Step out, and you're disqualified. Observers will monitor every millimeter."
My name was called first.
"Alright. Let's go."
The fight
Chaos erupted the moment the gong sounded. The arena was cramped—a swirling mass of spells and fists. I lunged forward, dropping opponents one after another.
By the time only twenty remained, my breaths came ragged.
"Oi."A voice cut through the din. A lanky boy with ash-blond hair cracked his knuckles. "Name's Natski."
"Elijah." I grinned. "Ready to lose?"
"Confident, huh?"Natski's smirk sharpened. *This guy better back his words.
Fire erupted from his palms. He shot toward me midair, roaring, "Roynsen!" A volcanic blast hurled me toward the ring's edge.
Strong. I barely rolled aside as Natski dove to finish me—
—but I twisted, kicking off the ground to flank him. "Too slow!"
Natski blasted upward with flames, evading my strike. "Not bad!" He retaliated with a fire-engulfed punch. I parried, countering with a roundhouse kick.
Back and forth we went:
- He'd fly; I'd chase
- I'd strike; he'd erupt.
Then—trap.
I blocked his kick but skidded backward—right into the lingering embers of his earlier Roynsen. The ground exploded.
"Got you!"Natski rocketed toward me, fist blazing.
Not yet.I conjured flames beneath my feet, propelling myself upward. His punch grazed my ribs as I retaliated with a fireball—
—but he dodged, retaliating with a searing beam I couldn't avoid. It slammed me into the ground.
Gritting my teeth, I surged up for one last attack—
"ENOUGH!"The instructor's voice halted us. "Group One's battle is concluded!"
Natski offered a hand, breathing hard. "You fight well."
"Same to you." I clasped it, grinning. "Didn't expect someone this troublesome."
A"Me neither." He laughed as we exited, both limping but alive.
When the dust settled, only 200 remained.
The Trial of Duos
The instructor's voice cut through the murmurs of the remaining candidates.
"The next trial will be 2 vs 2 combat. Each duo will face three other pairs. The judges will then select the top 50 to receive the scholarship." He paused, scanning the crowd. "Take 30 minutes to rest. The judges will assign your partners."
Elijah exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders. Great. They're probably gonna stick me with some dead weight to test how I handle it.
Thirty minutes later.
The instructor unrolled a scroll, reading out the pairings.
"Duo 1: Miyuki and Khanada. Duo 2: Sbuda and Arthur. Duo 3: Elijah and… Natski."
Elijah's head snapped up. What? Him? A smirk tugged at his lips.
The list continued until all 100 remaining candidates were paired.
"You have 30 minutes to strategize with your partner,"the instructor announced. "After that, we'll randomly draw matchups.
Natski sauntered over, arms crossed, that infuriating smirk plastered on his face. "I was worried I'd get stuck with some weakling. Guess I got lucky."
Elijah matched his tone. "Same here. So, what's the plan?"
"Simple. You take your guy, I'll take mine. No interference."
Elijah snorted. "I was thinking the same thing. I don't need you screwing up my rhythm."
Natski's smirk widened. "That's why you're not completely useless."
Elijah rolled his eyes. "If you actually need help—"**
"What?! No!" Natski snapped.
"Relax. It's just that the judges are watching for teamwork. Wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself."
Natski scoffed. "Whatever. By the way, you never told me your name."
Elijah grinned. "Elijah. Remember it! ."Then, feigning ignorance, "Wait, what was yours again?"
Natski's eye twitched. "You little!"
Elijah burst out laughing. "I'm kidding, firebrain. Looks like the drawing's starting. Let's go."
The First Match: Duo 3 vs. Duo 2
The instructor called out, "Duo 3, come draw your opponents."
Elijah stepped forward, pulling a slip from the box. "Group 2."
A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd as Sbuda and Arthur strode onto the coliseum floor.
Elijah groaned internally. Of course. We get the two most troublesome guys first.
The referee raised a hand. "Rules are simple: You lose if you're knocked out, surrender, or if I stop the match to prevent serious injury. Understood? Begin!"
When the fight began
Natski didn't hesitate. He blasted forward, flames erupting from his palms.
"Roynsen!"
Arthur sidestepped effortlessly, his crimson hair whipping from the heat. "Predictable."
Natski snarled, launching another eruption mid-movement. Arthur barely dodged again, his piercing eyes narrowing.
"I didn't think you could chain-cast that," Arthur mused, almost bored.
"Shut up and fight!" Natski lunged, a flaming kick aimed at Arthur's ribs.
Arthur blocked, then vanished—reappearing behind Natski with a punishing elbow.
Natski barely twisted in time, using his flames to propel himself away. Damn, he's fast.
Elijah vs. Sbuda
Meanwhile, Elijah clashed with Sbuda, whose water magic formed a shimmering, shell-like barrier.
"Hey! Quit hiding!"Elijah taunted, dodging a retaliatory water blast.
Sbuda sneered. "You're the one running. Can't even land a hit!"
Elijah gritted his teeth. Water beats fire… but fire can evaporate water if it's hot enough.
He feinted left, then right—before slamming his palms into the ground.
"Burn through!"
A surge of superheated flames vaporized the moisture at Sbuda's feet.
The crushing water blast hammered into Elijah like a tidal wave, hurling him backward with bone-jarring force. His body slammed against the coliseum wall with a thunderous crack, stone crumbling beneath the impact as he slumped to the ground.
Sbuda smirked, arms crossed like a smug predator toying with its prey. "Heh. You really think I'd use basic water magic against a fire user? Please. I'm not some amateur."
Before Elijah could catch his breath, Sbuda crossed his arms over his chest—then swung them outward with violent precision.
"HYDRO PUMP!"
A devastating geyser of pressurized water rocketed toward Elijah, fast as a striking serpent. Gritting his teeth, Elijah twisted at the last possible second—the attack grazing his side and carving a deep trench into the stone where his head had been moments before.
"Mhmm. Should've stayed down," Sbuda taunted, his water barrier shimmering back into place like liquid armor. "You won't beat me."
Elijah wiped blood from his split lip, mind racing. (Damn... what should I do now?)
Meanwhile, Natski was a whirlwind of flames, his fists and feet leaving trails of fire as he unleashed a relentless assault on Arthur.
Arthur dodged with the grace of a leaf on the wind, offering a compliment. "You fight well."
"You haven't seen anything yet!" Natski roared, vanishing in a burst of flame—only to reappear behind Arthur with a punch "FIRE PUNCH!"
But Arthur was already gone—materializing behind Natski like a ghost. "That's how it's done,"he said, delivering a crushing kick that sent Natski skidding back, his face the picture of disinterest.
Natski's eye twitched, his temper flaring hotter than his flames. (What's with that damn look?! I'll wipe it off your face!)* "KAYSEN!"
A roaring fireball erupted from his palms—
Arthur didn't even blink. "Oh please. That all you got?" as he dodges.
"NOPE!"
Suddenly, Natski had appeared behind Arthur in a blaze of fire-propelled speed!
"Fire PUNCH!"
Not a bad idea. but..
As Arthur was countering with a kick
But at the last second, Natski's form shimmered just a mirage!
"WHAT?!"
"Here" The real Natski materialized behind Arthur , his foot already mid-kick.
Natski's fist connected squarely with Arthur's back, sending him flying.
Natski didn't let up. "KAYSEN!" he shouted again, firing another blast at Arthur mid-air.
Arthur twisted like a cat, retaliating with his own "LIGHTNING BLAST!" The two attacks collided in a spectacular explosion of fire and electricity.
"Damn..." Natski panted.
Arthur landed now smirking with a bit of excitement . "Mhmm. You actually landed a punch." He fell into a fighting stance. "My turn now. Ready?"
He shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow.
"So fast!" Natski barely blocked the gut punch, countering with a fiery elbow. The two became blurs of motion, their exchange of blows creating a deadly symphony of crackling flames.
At Elijahs fight
Back on his feet, Elijah danced between Sbuda's hydro blasts, each dodge a hair's breadth from disaster. (Alright, no use overthinking. Time to act.)
He feinted left, then slammed his palms into the ground—
Steam exploded upward as the water evaporated—but instead of retreating, Elijah did something insane. He angled his hands backward and detonated a point-blank fireblast, using the recoil to anchor himself against Sbuda's hydro pump like a ship weathering a storm.
Sbuda's eyes bulged. (What?! He took the blast head-on!)
"AGAIN!" Elijah blasted forward like a comet, his foot lashing out—
Sbuda barely blocked the kick, but Elijah followed through with a gut punch that connected like a hammer strike.
Elijah didn't let up—his fists flew in a relentless barrage, each strike carrying the weight of his determination.
Sbuda suddenly encased himself in a swirling sphere of water that compressed dangerously. Elijah's instincts screamed—(Explosion!)—and he backstepped just as the water detonated outward in a crushing wave.
Not wasting a second, Elijah retaliated with a searing fireball through the mist, then blitzed forward, his foot wreathed in flames—
CRACK!
The kick connected hard against Sbuda's ribs, sending him skidding across the arena floor before he slumped, unconscious.
"Damn!!" Arthur's voice cut through the noise, his calm finally breaking.
Natski instantly appeared between them, flames dancing along his arms. "Don't interfere," he warned.
Arthur responded with a lightning-fast punch. Natski ducked under it, using the momentum to launch upward—BAM! a fiery kick smashed into Arthur's jaw.
Arthur staggered but instantly countered with a knee. Natski blocked, landing smoothly before blasting forward like a shooting star—
But Arthur vanished.
"You fool," his voice echoed.
Suddenly, ropes of lightning erupted from the ground, coiling around Natski and locking him in place. Arthur charged a crackling lightning blast . "LIGHTNING BLAST!"
Elijah moved without thinking. "NATSKI!" He lunged—
"Don't interfere!" Natski snarled.
"You were gonna get *fried*!" Elijah shot back.
Arthur's lips curled. "So both of you now?" Lightning wreathed his body as he settled into a stance—no more arrogance, just cold focus.
"I'll take him,"Elijah said, dashing in.
Elijah lunged forward, fist flying toward Arthur's face with everything he had. Arthur sidestepped effortlessly, countering with a punch so fast Elijah couldn't even blink—
CRACK!
The blow landed square on Elijah's jaw, sending stars across his vision as he stumbled back.
(Damn... that hit critical...)
Arthur moved in for the finish, but—
"FIRE PUNCH!"
Natski came roaring in like a blazing meteor. Arthur barely turned in time, releasing a "Lightning Burst!"that blasted Natski across the arena. The fiery fighter smashed into the wall with a sickening crunch, rubble raining down around him.
Both Elijah and Natski struggled to their feet, now positioned on opposite sides of Arthur like cornered animals.
"Oyy Natski!"** Elijah spat blood. "We gotta team up on this guy!"
"No! Stay out of this!"Natski growled, already charging again.
Arthur moved like lightning—one moment across the arena, the next right in Natski's face. His fist connected with a CRUNCH that echoed through the coliseum. Natski barely got his arms up in time, but the force still sent him reeling, fresh blood spraying from his mouth.
"...Yeah, you're right,"Natski admitted through gritted teeth.
"Idiot," Elijah shot back.
Arthur smirked, beckoning them forward. "Come."
They attacked as one—Elijah from the left, Natski from the right. Arthur blurred toward Elijah first, throwing a punch that Elijah barely dodged. Elijah countered, but Arthur twisted mid-air—
"Lightning Blast!"
A crackling bolt shot at Natski, who barely managed to twist away. Using his flames like thrusters, Natski redirected himself back toward the fight.
Arthur landed lightly—only to immediately launch a devastating kick at Elijah's ribs. The impact sent Elijah skidding backward, gasping for air. Without missing a beat, Arthur used the recoil to flip through the air—
"HYAH!"
His heel came down like a hammer on Natski's skull. The crunch of impact made the crowd wince as Natski faceplanted into the stone, blood pooling beneath him.
(No...!) Elijah's vision swam as he forced himself up. Arthur was already coming.
Punch after punch, Elijah dodged by sheer instinct—until—
THUD!
One got through. Elijah's body locked up instantly, muscles screaming in protest.
"You're not strong enough to break my paralysis that fast," Arthur said coldly, raising a crackling hand. *Lightning Blast."
White.
Pain.
Darkness.
---
"Winners: Arthur and Sbuda!"
Elijah groaned as healing magic knit his broken body back together. Nearby, Natski spat out a tooth, his glare hot enough to melt steel.
The trials continued. Both Elijah and Natski won their remaining matches, though the humiliation of their loss burned worse than any injury.
When the instructor finally announced the scholarship posting in two hours, Elijah found Arthur.
"You're strong," he said, extending a hand.
Arthur studied him for a long moment before taking it. "Well, the two of you weren't bad."
Elijah laughed weakly. "You kicked our asses, man."
"You were better than the rest,"Arthur admitted.
Elijah's grip tightened. "From now on, you're my rival. I'll beat you one day."
Arthur's smirk returned. "Good luck."
Two hours later, the results were posted:
Natski - Passed
Arthur - Passed
Elijah - Passed