The Great Hall of Zenith Academy fell into sudden silence. The buzzing voices of hundreds of students faded as a man in a dark blue robe stepped onto the raised platform. His mere presence exuded pressure—sharp, cold, commanding.
He glanced over the crowd with eyes like steel.
"I am Instructor Keldar," he said, his voice echoing across the stone walls. "Welcome to Zenith Academy."
Behind him, a massive stone tablet began to glow with inscriptions in an ancient language. Runes shimmered across its surface.
"This year," Keldar continued, "we have over seven hundred applicants. But only one hundred will be chosen."
Gasps spread among the students.
Ashen narrowed his eyes. Same as before. They'll weed out the weak early. It's not just about talent—it's about who can survive.
Keldar raised a hand, and the rune tablet flashed. A magic circle appeared beneath the floor, one by one glowing beneath each student's feet.
"The preliminary test begins now. Those who cannot endure this… may leave quietly. You will not be judged for cowardice. But if you stay and collapse, there will be no mercy."
The air thickened. Pressure fell like a storm. Students began to groan, some dropping to their knees.
Ashen stood firm. His breath was steady.
This is nothing. I've fought under skies torn apart by war. You think this pressure scares me?
All around him, students were struggling. A few screamed and ran out. Others fainted.
Keldar observed without emotion. "Only those with a strong spirit and mental core will endure. This is the foundation of cultivation at Zenith."
After several minutes, the light faded. The test ended.
Out of over seven hundred, only two hundred remained standing.
"You have passed the first gate," Keldar announced. "Now, follow me to the Trial Field. The real entrance exam begins there."
The Trial Field
The students arrived at a wide stone arena, surrounded by tiered seats and stone columns. Magic barriers shimmered faintly around the edges.
Ashen remembered this place well. It was where he'd fought his first battle… and met his first rival.
"Your next test is combat," said Keldar. "One-on-one duels. You may use any weapon or spell within your tier. Victory is not necessary. But show us your strength."
Ashen's name was called in the first match.
He stepped into the ring.
His opponent was a tall boy with a wooden spear, clearly trained in martial arts.
"You look weak," the boy mocked. "You sure you're in the right place?"
Ashen didn't reply. He simply took his stance, calm and focused.
The whistle blew.
The spear came fast, aiming for Ashen's chest.
But Ashen moved like flowing water. He ducked, twisted, and struck the boy's ribs with a clean palm strike.
The boy stumbled back, wide-eyed.
Ashen didn't follow up. He just stood there.
"You… you knew where I was open," the boy muttered, lowering his weapon.
"I've seen that move a hundred times," Ashen said quietly. "You should raise your left elbow."
The instructors murmured among themselves, eyes sharp.
"Interesting," Keldar said. "A child with a veteran's instincts."
Ashen walked out of the arena, face unreadable.
One battle down. Many more to go. But I'm back—and this time, I won't waste my second chance.