Argent Hall stood at the northern edge of the academy's inner ring, its towers wrapped in ivy and embedded with silver-glinting runes.
Though not as grand as the floating spires reserved for faculty, the dorm was luxurious by any standard — individual rooms, private training chambers, and a central lounge for shared use. It was where Platinum Class students lived, trained, and watched each other rise… or fall.
Caelum stepped through the high-arched doors and took in the atmosphere.
Warm lamplight, marble floors, a faint scent of polished wood and mana ink. Silence, save for hushed voices in the distance.
Each student had already been assigned quarters, and Caelum's was at the end of the top floor — furthest from the stairs, and closest to the outer mana flow node embedded in the dome-shaped roof.
Perfect.
He shut the door behind him, activating the silence rune by the frame. Then, he exhaled slowly and dropped his travel pack beside the bed.
Finally. Peace.
No instructors. No curious glances. Just himself and the quiet hum of the world's energy.
He unrolled a mat in the center of the room, stripped down to his training wear, and sat cross-legged.
Then began.
He summoned both aura and mana, his breathing steady. Energy seeped in from opposite sides — the mana from the air, cool and fluid; the aura from his core, dense and sharp. Most cultivators chose one path early.
Trying both led to imbalance… or death.
But Caelum's resonance was different. His Primal Resonance allowed harmony where others found chaos.
He drew the two forces together, weaving them in slow spirals through his limbs, then his core. The pain came — dull at first, then searing — but he welcomed it.
No one else knew this method.
In his last life, he barely survived long enough to master it.
This time, he would begin with it.
____
By the second morning, the atmosphere had shifted.
The Platinum Class gathered in their private training field — a wide, rune-marked arena bordered by reinforced walls and embedded resistance enchantments.
Instructor Ardan stood at the edge of the field, hands clasped behind his back.
"You are not here to enjoy luxury," he said.
"You will spar, train, and compete. Every ten days, your growth will be evaluated. Fall behind, and you may be reassigned."
No one scoffed. No one looked anxious.
Every student here was proud. Talented.
Hungry for power.
And that was what made them dangerous.
Ardan continued, "Today, you will have a sparring session. Pairs have already been selected. I will not interfere unless necessary."
He stepped aside, and the assistant instructor began calling names.
"Selene Rhiannon vs. Jonas Ferre."
Selene stepped into the field like a snowstorm personified. Having a S Tier mana talent with ice affinity, it just suits her cold look. Jonas, a tall boy with wind affinity, took position opposite her — confident, but cautious.
The match began.
The moment the assistant's hand dropped, Selene moved.
Ice blossomed at her feet, racing toward Jonas like living spears. He raised a barrier of wind, twisting it into a spiral to deflect.
But he underestimated the density.
Crack—The ice broke through, spears erupting around Jonas in a perfect cage of frost.
He froze — figuratively and almost literally — as the temperature around him plummeted.
The assistant raised his hand.
"Stop."
Selene stepped back, her breathing unchanged.
Jonas collapsed onto a bench, shivering.
____
"Zephyr Arkwyn vs. Elandra Voss."
A stir went through the class.
Both were known across the Empire for their talent.
Zephyr — an S-Tier aura user with a flame domain.
Elandra — an A-Tier spirit talent, with poison affinity. Her family was known as the Empire's shadow.
Zephyr walked to the field with his usual swagger. Elandra followed like a drifting shadow, black gloves tight against her hands, a faint wisp of green mist around her.
"Try not to burn out," she said softly.
Zephyr grinned. "Try not to melt."
The match began.
Zephyr charged in first, a sweeping flame encasing his fist. He launched it forward — a punch that seared the air.
Elandra ducked, pivoting smoothly to the side. Her gloved hand swiped the ground, and a venomous rune flared to life.
Zephyr's next step faltered.
The rune burst upward — a twisting tendril of toxic mist. He jumped back, avoiding direct contact, but the mist had already clung to his boots, eroding the outer layer.
"Tch," he hissed, reinforcing his feet with aura.
He lashed out again, this time igniting a wave of flame that washed across the center of the field.
Elandra vanished into it — or so it seemed.
Zephyr blinked — a needle of pain struck his shoulder.
She appeared behind him.
"Careless," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the fading flames.
His eyes narrowed as he swing behind him. "Not bad."
She jumped away just in time, and the two locked eyes, then Zephyr charged again.
The match continued but ended in a near-stalemate — a draw by instructor judgment.
But both had already evaluated each other in full.
____
"Iryss Valcairn vs. Draven Thorne."
Iryss bounced onto the field with a glow in her eyes, twirling a bright orb between her fingers.
Mnown for her star affinity and runecraft, she was a rare S-Tier mana talent.
Draven walked in silent and calm, no aura flaring, no theatrics. Just focused steps. He is only a peak B-Tier aura user, but his presence said otherwise.
From the start, it was clear — this was a fight of extremes.
Iryss conjured brilliant bursts of radiant magic — starbursts, streaking arcs, mana-infused sigils that danced like comets.
Draven didn't react emotionally. He weaved through the attacks like mist, never blinking, his aura solid and perfectly restrained.
Then, without warning, he struck.
A flicker of blade-shaped aura cut forward—clean and quick.
Iryss blinked, then looked at her sleeve.
A single thread had been sliced.
"…Whoa," she muttered, smiling. "Okay, mute boy. I see you."
She fought well, but it ended in a loss.
No one was surprised. The Valcairn family wasn't known for direct combat — they specialized in artifacts and runes.
But still… her performance turned heads.
____
Several heads turned as the matches began.
But Caelum kept his focus inward.
He hadn't been called yet.
And that was fine.
He didn't need the first stage.
He was still adapting to this younger body. Still testing his limits. Watching others now was more valuable.
But he wasn't just watching.
He was analyzing — every stance, every habit, every reaction under pressure.
His gaze looked calm.
What a coincidence that we're all mid D-Tier… Oh, wait. Draven's late D-Tier if I remember right.
When Ardan's eyes finally drifted to him, they lingered longer than expected.
He sees that I'm not eager, Caelum thought.
And he doesn't mind.
Good.
Let them show everything first.