The fortress of Elaron, known as the cradle of the strong, has a strict system for monitoring those with magical powers. Every five years, its academies open their gates to welcome new students.
Hundreds of new students stood in the black-stone-paved square before the gates of the Upper Magic Academy of Elkarath. Amid the howling wind, a large crystal orb hovered in the air, radiating soft rings of light — the elemental inheritance detection device.
The evaluator was an elderly mage, his eyes sharp as blades. Next to him, senior students took notes.
"First one."
Zeyne – Fire Element Mage
He placed his hand on the orb. A brilliant red light flared up, smoke billowing.
> "Elemental Level: Mid-High," the evaluator nodded.
"A pure-blood fire mage's lineage. To have such a high level at this age... impressive."
Zeyne stepped down, winking at his friends.
"Easy as breathing. Pure-blood mages are built different."
Mira – Ice Element Archer
A pale blue light spread out like frost, cooling the surrounding air.
> "Elemental Level: Medium – potential for refinement."
Dariun – Earth Element Swordsman
A deep yellow aura appeared, heavy and solid.
> "Elemental Level: Advanced."
Dariun grinned.
"Enough to crush a few weak insects, at least."
Then, Lioren stepped up.
All eyes turned to him. Long black hair covered one eye. His face was calm, but his hands trembled slightly.
He placed his hand on the orb. Silence. No light. No movement. Just a faint, weak tremor — as if the orb itself was breathing.
> "Elemental Level: Undetermined – does not meet magical standards."
The old mage's voice was cold, his eyes looking at Lioren like trash:
"Next. Step aside."
A wave of whispers and laughter broke out:
> "Is this for real? A non-elemental trying to enter Elkarath?"
"Probably got in through some cheap connection."
"No element? He should go back home and farm."
Lioren didn't move.
Suddenly, someone rushed over and whispered something into the evaluator's ear.
The old mage paused, frowned, then reluctantly nodded.
> "Change of status: granted provisional admission — Challenge Track."
More whispers. Suspicious glances.
> "Challenge Track? That means one slip-up and he's out?"
"He must be some new experiment of the academy."
"I bet he won't survive the first semester."
Lioren didn't respond. He turned away, looking at no one. His shadow stretched long and thin under the orb's glow.
After all the students had finished their evaluations, the crowd slowly dispersed. The murmurs lingered, like sharp slivers of glass brushing past Lioren's ears.
> "The academy is divided into two groups," a monotone voice said from behind. It was the examiner, his eyes emotionless.
"Nobles — to the right. Commoners — to the left. But don't be mistaken. You'll all attend the same classes. Face the same tests. Have the same chances to live… and die."
A soft wave of laughter rose from the noble side. They wore refined uniforms adorned with family crests and silver-stitched cloaks — as if they had stepped out from another world. On the other side, the commoners wore simple outfits, coarse fabric, and some even had worn-out shoes.
Lioren walked left. No hesitation. No denial.
He stood next to a short-haired girl with dirt smudged on her face. She glanced at him and whispered:
> "You're not like them."
Lioren didn't reply. He had no emotions left to answer kindness.
A bell rang. Cold and sharp as metal.
> "Your first lesson begins now," the professor said.
"First test — Survival. No grades. Only life… or expulsion."
A door behind the hall swung open.
> "Enter. All of you."
A noble student lifted his chin with a sneer:
> "They're letting the commoners in too? What a waste of time."
Another student bumped Lioren's shoulder as he passed:
> "You'll be the first one left behind."
The gate behind Lioren closed with a long, cold creak. In front of him lay the Purging Forest — a forsaken woodland once a battlefield between banished mages and ancient beasts. Withered trees loomed overhead. The sky was starless. A blood-red moon hung like an eye watching the world.
The examiner's voice echoed inside their minds via magical telepathy:
> "From now on, you have 7 days. In those 7 days, either slay at least 50 monsters — or survive until the final light of the seventh day touches your hair."
"Anyone who flees the boundary, cheats, or fails… will be eliminated. And here, 'eliminated' means dead."
A savage laugh rang out from deep in the forest. Trees cracked. Cries echoed. Some noble students quickly grouped up, summoning guardian beasts via family pacts. Bloodlust, rivalry, and fear spread like wildfire.
Lioren stood alone.
No weapon.
No magic.
No allies.
He simply put his hands in his pockets and walked into the forest.