Riku woke before the sun had crested the horizon.
The sky outside his window was still deep blue, tinged faintly with silver at the edges. It was the hour of stillness—the brief slice of time where the world held its breath between night and day. The silence wasn't oppressive. It was peaceful, calming.
He slipped out of bed with the practiced. His bare soles touched the cool wooden floor. For a moment, he just stood there, letting his breathing settle, letting his muscles remember the rhythm of movement.
Twenty push-ups.
Twenty sit-ups.
Every morning.
It wasn't much. But it was ritual. A small routine that kept his mind sharp and his body steady. He considered going for a run, but he didn't want to get lost, or worse, wander somewhere restricted.
"Tomorrow," he murmured to himself, stretching his arms behind his back. "Tomorrow, I'll map the grounds."
After the exercises, he moved into the bathing room. The tub was round, sunken into the marble floor, and far larger than anything a single person needed. He filled it with warm water, watching steam curl into the air like whispers, and slid in slowly, letting the heat work into his muscles.
The academy might not rival the comforts of home, but it had its merits.
He stayed there longer than he meant to, watching the morning light creep across the tiles, until the water began to cool. Then, with a deep breath, he rose, dried himself off, and approached the wardrobe.
The uniform awaited.
He ran his fingers along the fabric, appreciating the craftsmanship. The jacket was tailored, cut close to the form without being tight, its white fabric crisp and clean. Gold trim lined the sleeves and collar, intricate patterns swirling like flowing ink. The buttons were small polished disks, etched with the Imperial Academy's crest/logo(A.N: I don't know what to call it either.), a dragon twisting down a sword.
Riku dressed carefully, smoothing each crease, fastening each button with precision.
...
..
.
The main hall was already abuzz when Riku arrived.
Students milled about in small clusters, their conversations a low hum of nerves and excitement. The first row seats had been marked off. He sat down quietly, eyes scanning the room.
"Good morning."
The Headmaster's voice rang out from the raised dais, silencing the room. Everyone turned.
He stood at the same spot from yesterday, his long coat rustling faintly as he adjusted the thick folder under his arm. His gray hair caught the morning sun, and his sharp eyes swept across the crowd.
"I trust you've all rested well."
A few murmurs of agreement followed, but mostly there was stillness. Respect.
"Let's begin," he said, setting the folder down with a dull thud. "Two hundred seventy-nine students passed initial acceptance. That is a fine number, but an unmanageable one for dueling."
Riku blinked.
"Therefore," the Headmaster continued, "this year, we shall determine rankings with two stages: the first is a written test. The second, practical combat. Only the ones who score eighty percent and above of today's written exam will proceed to the dueling stage. Those duels will determine the first-year ranking."
There were audible intakes of breath. Some students straightened in their seats. Others exchanged nervous glances.
Riku's heart sank.
'A written exam? On Sage Art?'
He clenched his hands.
This was a problem. He didn't know anything about Sage Art. Not the terminology, not the theory. Nothing. Every lesson he'd ever had growing up had been Rage Art-centric.
But the Headmaster wasn't done.
"Before you panic," he said, lips twitching with faint amusement, "today's exam does not test Sage Art. That would be absurd. You are here to learn it, not to regurgitate it. The written test will instead focus on general knowledge—literature, history, mathematics, and logic."
Relief crashed through Riku like a wave. His shoulders eased.
'Thank the ancestors.'
The Rage Empire's standards were brutal, even for aristocrats. His tutors had been unrelenting, his lessons endless. He knew his numbers. He could quote literature from memory.
The Headmaster closed the folder and clapped his hands twice.
"Proceed to the next hall. Your names will be on the desks. You will have one hour to complete the test. You may not leave until time is up. You will be handed both a question paper and a separate answer sheet. Write your name clearly. And no talking."
There was a beat of stillness before the room erupted into movement.
Riku stood, moving with the tide of students as they flowed into the next chamber. It was slightly smaller, more utilitarian. No elaborate columns. Just rows upon rows of desks, each with an ink pot and quill. At each station, a white envelope sat neatly atop a blank answer sheet.
His seat was toward the front again. Center row.
He sat.
The desk felt cold.
The envelope was thick, sealed with a wax stamp bearing the Academy crest.
Around him, students began unsealing their envelopes one by one.
Riku took a breath, broke the seal, and slid the paper out.
He read the first question.
Then the second.
Then the third.
And slowly, a frown tugged at the corner of his mouth.
'These are… easy.'
Too easy, actually.
He flipped the page. More of the same. There were history dates, simple logical syllogisms, basic arithmetic. Some essay questions on famous fables. A chart that needed completion using provided data.
He glanced discreetly to his left. The girl beside him was squinting at her paper with furrowed brows. On his right, a tall boy tapped his pen nervously, eyes wide.
Either his education had been that good…
…or the bar here was that low.
He dipped his quill into the ink and began to write.
One hour passed quietly. The only sounds were the scratch of quills and the occasional creak of a chair.
When the bell rang at last, several students jumped.
"Time is up," someone called from the front. "Please place your answer sheets in the center of your desks. Question papers go underneath."
Riku laid his quill down, flexing his fingers. He hadn't needed the full hour. He'd finished the last essay ten minutes early, then spent the rest of the time rechecking everything twice.
He pushed back his chair and waited.
Staff members began collecting the answer sheets one by one, stacking them carefully.
After that, the students were dismissed with instructions to return in five hours for the results.
Riku walked out into the garden courtyard, squinting against the now-bright sky.
He found a bench beneath a tree, sat down, and let his head fall back against the trunk.
For the first time in weeks, he felt… calm.
It wasn't over yet. The duels would come. And the stakes were high.