The morning air in Skyviolet City buzzed with anticipation. Today was the semi-final round of the Academy Entrance Tournament a test that had whittled down thousands of young aspirants to just a select group of the strongest.
Unlike the previous chaotic battle royale and the dangerous monster trials, this round was simple: one versus one combat, a duel of strength, strategy, and raw willpower.
Zend stood quietly near the edge of the massive circular arena, waiting for his name to be called. He could hear the crowds in the stands students, instructors, nobles, and scouts from each of the Five Grand Academies. Their voices rose and fell in excitement, eager to witness who among the remaining competitors would stand out.
From the balcony above, a voice echoed through magical amplification:
"Match Three: Zend Kly of Little Wind Village… versus Sylvar Reyne of House Reyne!"
The crowd stirred. Sylvar Reyne was known among the competitors a noble from a prominent house, skilled in close-quarters combat and wielding a combat Aether: Twin Blades of Emberlight. He had defeated all previous opponents with blazing speed and precision.
Zend took a breath and stepped forward.
The two boys met in the center of the arena. Sylvar, tall and confident, smirked as he looked Zend up and down.
"A needle?" he scoffed, drawing his twin flame-edged daggers. "This won't take long."
Zend said nothing, only gave a faint smile. He summoned his black needle Aether from his Soul Chamber, and it hovered faintly by his side, glinting like polished obsidian.
The judge raised his hand.
"Begin!"
The battle erupted.
Sylvar lunged first, his twin blades blazing with fire. He moved like a dancer fluid, fast, and aggressive. Zend dodged sideways, barely avoiding a slash that scorched the ground behind him.
Sylvar pressed forward, launching a barrage of fiery strikes. Zend was on the defensive, using light telekinesis to keep his needle circling around him. He parried one blade, dodged another but a third slash caught his side and sent him stumbling back, smoke rising from a singed tear in his shirt.
He's fast, Zend thought. But predictable.
Zend whispered an incantation under his breath, focusing his mana into the needle. As Sylvar dashed in again, Zend flicked his hand and the needle shot forward like a bullet, aimed directly at Sylvar's leg.
Sylvar deflected it with one blade, but Zend was already moving. Using the distraction, he rolled forward and summoned the needle back, striking at Sylvar's exposed flank.
It grazed his armor, barely breaking through.
"Clever," Sylvar growled, backing off for a moment.
Both boys paused, catching their breath. Sweat gleamed on their brows.
Zend steadied his breathing. His mana control was good, but his power wasn't meant for direct strength. He had to think differently.
I can't overpower him… but I can outlast him.
He began weaving, slowly and deliberately, letting the needle dart forward at odd angles high, low, from behind, then suddenly from above. Sylvar blocked most of them, but each block chipped at his stamina.
Zend focused harder, the needle now vibrating slightly with toxic energy from his earlier evolution. One hit… was all he needed.
Sylvar, growing impatient, charged in with a fiery spinning attack, his blades a whirlwind of orange and gold.
Zend timed it perfectly.
He stepped aside at the last second and whispered:
"Pierce."
The needle streaked downward and stabbed directly into Sylvar's thigh, bypassing his blade. He cried out, stumbling to one knee.
"W-What…?!"
The venom acted quickly. Sylvar's movements slowed, his body trembling slightly. Zend summoned the needle back and pointed it calmly at Sylvar's throat.
"Yield," Zend said quietly.
Sylvar glared at him furious, humiliated… and then dropped his blades.
"I yield."
The crowd erupted into a mixture of awe and thunderous applause.
From the stands, several instructors leaned forward, whispering among themselves.
"That boy… He's not just skilled. He's precise. Dangerous."
"An assassin's mind. And that Aether its evolution is abnormal."
"He's perfect for our academy…"
Zend walked out of the arena as quietly as he had entered, barely reacting to the cheers. His side still burned from the early wound, but he ignored it. He had won not because he was stronger, but because he understood himself, and his Aether.
And that… was power.
After Zend's victory, he had his wound treated quickly by a healing staff stationed near the arena. The venom in his needle wasn't lethal, but it had left Sylvar temporarily paralyzed, adding to the quiet buzz surrounding Zend's unusual combat style.
Now bandaged and seated on one of the upper balconies, Zend looked down at the arena. The next match was about to begin Chris Xavier versus Garel Ramm, a bulky teen known for his brutal strength and combat Aether: Ironhide Gauntlets. These enchanted gauntlets could absorb impact and multiply the force of punches. He was undefeated so far and had knocked out three opponents with a single blow.
Zend leaned forward. He was curious no, excited to see how Chris would fare.
"Match Four: Chris Xavier of House Xavier versus Garel Ramm of Ramm Mining Guild!"
The crowd roared, the excitement for this match nearly matching the previous one. Nobles and scouts from the Five Grand Academies were clearly watching this one closely.
The arena floor rumbled slightly as Garel entered, the heavy gauntlets on his arms glowing faintly with orange runes. He cracked his neck and pounded his fists together with a metallic clang.
Chris, in contrast, moved with light steps, his lightning sword Aether sheathed on his back. His silver-white hair flicked slightly in the wind as he raised one hand in a respectful greeting.
"Don't hold back," he said with a smile.
Garel grunted. "Won't need to."
The judge dropped his hand.
"Begin!"
BOOM.
Garel surged forward like a cannonball. The ground cracked beneath his feet as he rocketed toward Chris, one gauntleted fist swinging with crushing force.
But Chris vanished.
Zzzzttt! A crackle of lightning sparked through the air, and Chris reappeared behind him, already drawing his sword mid-flip.
"You're too slow."
His blade slashed down, lightning tracing the edge but it clanged off Garel's gauntlet, barely scratching the surface. The brute turned and swung wildly. Chris ducked, the fist missing him by inches.
Chris slid back and took a breath, sparks flickering along his arms. He wasn't surprised by the gauntlet's durability he had seen Garel break boulders with those fists.
"Then I'll just have to wear you down."
What followed was a dance of thunder and stone.
Garel moved with brute power, every punch like a falling hammer, tearing the arena floor apart. Chris dodged and weaved, his sword sometimes grazing Garel's arms or shoulders, sending sparks and small bursts of electric shock through him.
Zend, watching from above, frowned.
He's holding back.
Chris wasn't using his full power not yet. He was probing. Testing.
Garel roared and slammed his fists into the ground, causing a shockwave that blasted Chris backward. The nobleboy twisted midair, landed on one knee, then stood again with a new focus in his eyes.
"Alright," Chris muttered, planting his feet. "I guess it's time."
He held out his sword, and lightning surged along the blade, then into his legs and arms. The wind howled. Aether overflowed from his body.
Flashstep. Triple Charge.
In a blink, Chris vanished.
BZZZAAAKK!
He appeared mid-air, slashing downward.
Garel blocked the blow with crossed gauntlets then took another from the side, and another from behind. Chris was moving too fast now, blinking through the field like a bolt of living thunder.
Zend's eyes widened. Even he hadn't seen Chris move quite like this before.
"Now you see why he's a problem," murmured one academy scout nearby.
Garel swung blindly, but Chris was already above him, sword raised high. With a shout, Chris brought it down in a burst of concentrated lightning.
"Storm Fang!"
The slash landed directly on Garel's shoulder, bypassing the gauntlet's defense. A massive arc of lightning exploded outward.
BOOM!
Dust and smoke erupted across the field. When it cleared, Garel was lying on the ground, groaning, one gauntlet shattered, steam rising from his shoulder.
Chris stood tall, breathing hard, sparks still crackling around him.
"I win," he said simply.
The crowd exploded with applause. Even instructors from the Magic Academy and the Combat Academy whispered among themselves.
"Both Xavier and Kly… They're monsters in their own way."
Zend allowed himself a small smile as Chris looked up toward the balcony and gave him a brief nod.
We're both still in this.
But deep inside, Zend felt something else stir a pulse from his Aether in his soul. As if his needle was reacting… not in envy, but anticipation.
This was only the beginning.