The dim morning light carried the scent of burnt wood and damp earth. The chirping of sparrows, mixed with the whisper of the wind, broke the night's silence in the camp. Satoru sat by the fire, his gaze fixed on the distance, gently running his fingers along the hilt of his sword. Tiny sparks rose from the ashes—like thoughts flickering through his mind, only to fade away quickly.
Arn quietly stepped out of the tent, his hair messy and eyes half-closed. He yawned and said, "We're reaching the capital today, right?"
Satoru, without turning his head, replied, "If nothing goes wrong, yeah."
A faint bell-like sound from within the forest caught their attention. It was Yuri, returning from patrol. With calm but confident steps, he approached and said, "The path is clear. We can move out."
By noon, the cobbled roads of the capital stretched out before them. Tall towers, colorful flags, and white city walls gleamed in the morning mist. A large crowd moved through the main gate, and the distant hum of the marketplace could be heard.
Yuri carefully examined one of the bulletin boards. A paper bearing the royal seal caught his eye. "These are the rules for entering the Academy Tournament… Looks like things are more serious than we thought."
Satoru quietly read the paper. "The first test is preliminary. A kind of screening. After that, we get into the real competition."
Arn looked down at their plain clothes and said, "We're going in looking like this? At least let me clean myself up a bit."
A few hours later, they settled into an inn near the central plaza. The room was simple but clean. Yuri sat on the bed and began sharpening his sword. Arn practiced with a magic ring. But Satoru stood still by the window, staring at the sky—at clouds that seemed to carry a hidden voice, one only he could hear.
That night, they held a small meeting. They discussed their entry into the tournament, possible routes, and what image each of them should present.
Satoru said, "We can't show everything. We still don't know who's standing on the other side. It's better to stay cautious."
Yuri nodded. "Even with half my strength, I can still fight."
Arn smiled. "I just hope I don't screw up."
The vast, sunlit arena buzzed with excitement. The selection exam for the Magic Academy had reached its peak. Students, instructors, and even nobles filled the stands, each looking forward to witnessing the talent of the next generation. Magic flared and clashed, but among the crowd, one name was already starting to rise—Satoru.
Standing in silence, Satoru slipped on a pair of leather gloves. He glanced at the arena, eyes calm but calculating. "So everyone's shown what they've got," he muttered. "Arne messed up, Yuri stood out, and I... I need to pass beneath them, unnoticed. My magic isn't something I can reveal yet. If I do, light will follow... and I'm not ready for that."
In the waiting area, opponents lined up one after another, many of them aiming for the spotlight. Satoru walked forward, ready for his matches.
His first duel ended quickly. With swift footwork and precise magic, he won without using his elemental core. The second opponent was tougher, forcing him to use a burst of thunder magic that left a few murmuring in the crowd. Even then, he held back. Each step was measured. Every spell, deliberate.
When he won the final match, there was no grand speech. No celebration. Satoru simply turned and left the stage. The audience clapped—some in surprise, some in respect—but no one could pin down what they'd just witnessed.
At the edge of the arena, a cold yet familiar voice called out. "Satoru. We need to talk." It was Teach.
Inside the judges' chamber, Teach leaned back with folded arms. "It's been a long time, Satoru. Looks like you've risen to the top."
Satoru didn't answer immediately. Teach continued, "You held back. That wasn't your full strength. But I get it. You're still hiding something."
"I can't risk it," Satoru finally said.
Teach narrowed his eyes, then smirked slightly. "Fine. Just remember... the academy is different from the outside world. You'll need allies." He paused before turning toward the door. "See you at the academy."
As Teach left the room, he walked directly to the royal stands. The king turned to him, curiosity in his eyes.
"Well?" the king asked. "That boy... what do you make of him?"
"He's not just strong," Teach replied. "He's dangerous. But smart. We'll need to keep an eye on him. If he's who I think he is... he may change the future of the kingdom."
In the meantime, the results were announced. First place: Yuri. Second: Ryan. Third: Satoru. The crowd cheered.
Later, the trio found Arne sitting quietly by the fountain.
"You're up for the test too," Satoru said.
"I messed up," Arne admitted. "But if I get in... I'm focusing entirely on Earth class magic."
As they headed toward the Adventurers' Guild, Satoru spoke up. "I'll probably spend more time in the library. I need to deepen my understanding of this world's logic—and maybe pick a path between Light and Thunder."
"I need to train both my sword and magic," Yuri said. "I can't show even a fraction of my real power like you can."
"I'll make up for the mess," Arne said. "Next time, I won't fall short."
At the guild, they received a rank upgrade and were handed a pouch with the promised reward for defeating the slave traders.
As the sun set, they sat atop a hill outside the city, laughter filling the air. But from the shadows, someone watched them quietly. Ryan's gaze was focused—not on the group's joy, but on Satoru.
And in his eyes, a long-lost memory flickered.