Asrial walked forward, the cold stone of the arena floor echoing beneath his boots. The murmurs of the crowd buzzed in his ears, but his focus remained razor-sharp. He stopped before the examiners, saying nothing.
The lead examiner smirked with barely hidden malice. His voice thundered across the arena:
"Asrial will face Viker, eldest son of the Zikard family. Izumi, second son of the Roswald family. And Aldric, only son of the Terradon family."
Three noble heirs stepped onto the stage with smug grins, their gazes sharp and condescending. They exuded arrogance, but beneath that lay undeniable skill. Asrial knew that well—he remembered them. Fire, water, earth. Each had full control over their elements. They weren't weak. But that only made him grin.
So this is Weiver's opening move? These brats? Pathetic.
The examiners signaled for them to face each other at the center of the arena. The crowd held its breath as they squared off.
"Begin!"
Asrial's response was immediate—he conjured a devastating tornado, sending shards of stone and dust spiraling toward his opponents. Aldric slammed his hand to the ground, raising a thick stone wall just in time to block the raging winds.
From above, Viker leaped over the barrier, hurling a barrage of scorching fireballs toward Asrial.
With a flick of his wrist, Asrial summoned another tornado, redirecting the fireballs with precision. But Izumi was ready. He swept his arms wide, conjuring a massive wave of water to neutralize the redirected flames.
Asrial ascended into the air, his wind magic lifting him high above the battlefield. Looking down on them, he chuckled.
"Your teamwork is impressive for a group thrown together last minute. But against absolute power, it's meaningless."
He raised his hand, weaving fire, wind, and earth into a blazing meteor that roared to life above him.
Then—
The threads.
His body jerked. His muscles strained. His arm moved against his will, his palm tilting just enough to shift the meteor's path toward the audience.
No—!
Move!
His limbs resisted. Thousands of thin threads—Weiver's influence—pulled him like a puppet. His heart pounded, panic threatening to cloud his thoughts.
If it's silk…
Fire ignited across his soul. He seared the threads from the inside, pain exploding in his body as he scorched the unseen strings that bound him. His jaw clenched. His body screamed. But he forced his hand back in place.
"Not. Today."
Channeling his dragon authority, he redirected the meteor, slamming it into the arena floor.
BOOM!
The impact shattered stone and sent a shockwave that rattled the entire stadium. The noble heirs shielded themselves with combined barriers, but the sheer force overwhelmed them. Their barriers collapsed, and the trio was knocked unconscious.
Silence.
Then the reluctant voice of the examiner:
"Winner… Asrial."
Asrial descended, his heart still pounding, but his expression calm. He turned his back on the ruined arena and walked toward the waiting area.
Therisia rushed to him, fury in her eyes. She slammed her fist against his head.
"What the hell were you thinking? You could've killed them! You—" she lowered her voice, "—you changed the trajectory. Don't lie to me. I saw it."
Asrial rubbed his head, smirking. "Relax. I handled it. Worry about yourself, not me—your turn's next."
She narrowed her eyes but smiled, pride evident in her voice. "You better watch me."
As she walked off toward the arena, Asrial watched her with a rare softness.
On the opposite balcony, Yuu stood beside Elenor, his arms crossed, a faint blue crystal glow shimmering on his fingertips.
"He's strong," Yuu said, his voice cold. "But his control is weak. I saw it. Something's messing with him."
Elenor smiled faintly, brushing her white hair back.
"Power without control is nothing but a child's toy," she whispered. "Eventually, a toy breaks."
Meanwhile, the audience roared in excitement, their voices rising in awe and speculation.
"Did you see that? Two elements at once!"
"He's a monster! But… wasn't that meteor aiming at us?"
"No, no—he stopped it. He controlled it perfectly. Right?"
In the VIP chamber, Queen Analise sat in an ornate chair, watching the events unfold with sharp golden eyes. Beside her, the academy principal stroked his beard thoughtfully.
"He has potential," the Queen said, her voice soft but commanding.
The principal nodded in agreement. "I've rarely seen dual-element mastery at this age. His power is real."
On the Queen's left sat Red, the Third Bishop of the Church of the Broken God, his crimson robes flowing like blood. On her right, a man with green hair and a blindfold remained still as a statue.
Analise's gaze lingered on Asrial, a faint flicker of purple light dancing in her pupils.
"Let's see," she murmured. "How long can you continue fighting fate?"
Back in the arena, Asrial watched as Therisia took her position, determination burning in her eyes. He clenched his fists, the memory of the threads still lingering like phantom chains.
Behind him, the silk threads began to weave and gather, forming the shadow of Weiver.
The thousand-layered voice echoed in his mind, smooth and taunting.
"I didn't expect you to pass so easily. You amuse me, little flame. But remember—this is only the beginning. There are six battles… and you are far from free."
Asrial's jaw tensed. "Just keep watching, lizard. I'll burn your threads one by one."
Weiver's form dissolved, but the feeling of his grip remained.
The threads of fate had begun to tighten.
And Asrial had just vowed to tear them apart