The grand coliseum at the center of the Imperial Magic Academy hadn't been this full since the last time a dragon mistook the arena for its nest.
Banners fluttered in the wind, students whispered nervously in groups, and instructors stood at attention on high balconies overlooking the combat floor.
Today marked the beginning of the Final Examination Trials.
And Kael Vaelthorn was already bored.
—
"Trial One: Swords and Sweat"
"Incoming!" Renley ducked as a student flew past him, launched by a particularly aggressive lightning spell.
Kael watched silently as spells flared, swords clashed, and formations shattered.
Lyra stood beside him, stretching.
"You're in group seven," she said, checking her scroll. "Your match is after lunch."
Kael sipped from a juice box. "Perfect. That gives me time for a nap."
"Kael," Lyra said flatly, "this is a serious exam."
"I am seriously considering lying down."
She sighed, then elbowed him. "Come on. You're undefeated. You have a reputation."
Kael blinked slowly. "I never asked for a reputation."
"Well," she said with a small smile, "you have one. Deal with it."
—
Elsewhere: The Betting Pool
"One gold says Kael trips again and still wins," muttered one senior.
"Two gold he defeats a swordmaster-level opponent by sneezing."
"Five gold Lyra tries to murder him in frustration mid-duel."
The betting table was nearly toppling from weight.
At this point, everyone was invested in the absurd myth that was Kael.
—
Meanwhile: Elira's Observation Deck
Elira stood beside a few instructors, arms folded.
Her eyes stayed locked on Kael from a distance.
"He's unreadable," one teacher muttered. "Like a mirror that reflects nothing."
Elira said nothing. Her gaze narrowed.
She wasn't just watching for talent. She was watching for confirmation.
That Kael… was more than what he appeared.
And maybe, just maybe, the one the prophecy whispered about.
Behind her, Hema scribbled in her notebook.
> Observation: Kael currently defies all known behavior patterns. Social stability chaos factor: increasing.
> Observation: Lyra is smiling more.
> Observation: I think I'm becoming emotionally compromised.
Hema closed her notebook slowly and looked up.
"...Dammit," she muttered.
—
Back to the Arena
Kael stepped into the ring for his trial.
A burly swordsman with fiery red hair smirked across from him. "Heard you were good, pretty boy."
Kael yawned. "Heard you were loud."
The crowd ooohed.
The swordsman snarled. "I'm Captain Rurik, third-year—"
Kael stepped slightly to the left.
A moment of silence passed.
Then, Rurik tripped on a loose piece of tile, lunged forward, and impaled his own sword into the wall behind Kael.
The match was over in ten seconds.
The instructor raised a flag. "Victory: Kael Vaelthorn!"
Kael blinked. "I didn't even touch him."
Lyra facepalmed from the stands. "He dodged before the attack."
Hema whispered, "He reads movement patterns unconsciously."
Elira shook her head. "He doesn't. That's the terrifying part."
Raen stood on a higher platform, jaw clenched. "This guy's existence is a prank on logic."
—
Instructor's Chamber
"Do we promote him early?" asked one veteran mage.
"Can't. He never submits reports. Doesn't even seem to study."
"Should we give him a harder opponent?"
"We've run out of those."
—
Lunch Break
Kael sat under a tree, sipping another juice box, Lyra beside him.
"You're not going to ask me how I won?" he said.
"I stopped asking five wins ago," Lyra replied.
Kael chuckled softly. "Thanks for not asking me to train more."
"Oh, I'm definitely going to stab you more tomorrow."
Kael nodded. "Fair."
She leaned back, arms folded behind her head. "It's weird. Watching you win all the time, even when you don't mean to. I thought it would make me jealous."
"And now?" he asked.
Lyra smiled faintly. "Now I just want to stand beside you. Every win, every loss, every mistake."
Kael looked at her.
Then down at his juice box.
Then back up. "...I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear you say something relationship-like."
She elbowed him. "Do that, and I'll really stab you."
—
The Shadow Society – Monitoring Room
Shadow Envoys gathered silently around a glowing orb.
Kael's image was on screen.
"He wins again."
"He has no idea."
"The Darklord moves according to fate's rhythm," whispered the Seventh Pillar, her voice soft and deep. "Even his boredom changes destinies."
No one argued.
—
Evening: Announcement
A voice rang out across the academy.
"Trial One complete. Round Two — Magic and Strategy — begins tomorrow."
Kael groaned.
Lyra handed him a scroll. "You'll need this."
"What is it?"
"A basic spell list."
"I'm not a mage."
"You're in a magic academy."
"I was told lunch was mandatory. Not mana."
Lyra stared at him.
"Kael."
"Yes?"
"You're going to pass this exam."
"...By accident?"
She narrowed her eyes.
He grinned.
—
End of Chapter 43