The morning sun spilled across the training grounds of Origin Academy, illuminating the vast expanse reserved for S-Class students. Magical barriers shimmered in the air, protective symbols faintly glowing on every stone and blade of grass. To ordinary eyes, it looked like a peaceful field—but every detail, every whisper of wind, every ripple of water was a potential danger.
Zeryth Malakar stood at the edge of the field, eyes narrowing. His body, now a perfect fusion of air, water, stone, and integrated beast traits, moved with the grace of a predator in total control of his environment. Every current of air, every drop of water, every grain of stone was data to him.
Perfect.
Today's trial was not about obedience or theory—it was about demonstration, about manipulating every element, every creature, every obstacle in the environment with speed and precision.
From the opposite side, Malrik Veynor and Isolde Thorne entered the S-Class grounds. Malrik, muscular and confident, radiated raw determination. His aura flared with dormant fire magic, subtle yet deadly. Zeryth had already assessed him: C+ tier, strong and disciplined, predictable in his movements.
Isolde moved with fluid precision, hands glowing faintly with her own elemental magic. Less physically imposing, she was exact and versatile—a solid C tier mage whose power could be outmaneuvered with the right foresight.
They are still children to me. Tools, pawns, experiments… and Malrik's fire is particularly interesting.
The Vice Principal appeared, her gaze sharp and assessing.
"Students," she announced, her voice amplified with enchantment, "today you will demonstrate adaptability, control, and ingenuity. Points will be awarded for speed, efficiency, and environmental mastery. 1,000 points are required to pass. The top performer will receive an S-Class reward. Begin."
A gust of wind swept across the grounds, carrying the scent of damp earth, grass, and distant creatures. Packs of wolves emerged, their eyes glowing faintly with mana.
Zeryth smiled faintly. Predators, obstacles, environment—data. Now begins the integration.
Zeryth extended his hand. Air condensed around him, swirling with intention. Wolves charged. With a single thought, he disintegrated the air around their limbs—not harming them but removing immediate resistance. The currents carried him across the battlefield, fluid and untouchable.
Flow… reaction… speed. All mine.
Streams and puddles dotted the training field. Zeryth disintegrated droplets and reintegrated them into protective fields, absorbing flexibility, fluidity, and resilience. Sliding under wolves' claws, twisting midair—water's adaptability now flowed through him.
Resistance, flexibility, adaptability… all integrated.
Stone walls obstructed the field. Zeryth disintegrated them into particles, analyzed density and structure, then reintegrated them, absorbing durability. Every leap, every dodge, was supported by the strength of stone now inside him.
Durability… resilience… integrated.
The wolves charged again. Zeryth crouched, observing every movement. Strength, agility, reflex, perception…
He disintegrated the nearest wolf mid-leap, breaking it down into pure essence. Then he reintegrated it, absorbing muscles, instincts, and reflexes. Reflexes sharpened, senses heightened—he mirrored predator instincts in himself. Each wolf processed similarly, leaving him untouchable.
Speed, perception, strength… all integrated.
Malrik approached, sword in hand, his aura flaring with dormant fire magic. He attempted a controlled fire strike, flames coiling around his blade. Zeryth's eyes flicked to him, calculating.
Ah… fire. Unrefined, predictable… but potent.
He extended his hand subtly, disintegrating the fire's essence—not to destroy, but to extract its power. The heat, the energy, the potential—the magic itself—flowed into him. He reintegrated it, melding it with air, water, stone, and wolf traits already within him. A surge of energy erupted in his mind as the elements merged seamlessly.
Fire, water, air, stone… life and instinct… I am the sum of every force around me. I am unstoppable.
Malrik faltered, staring at Zeryth. Flames flickered weakly in his hands, now mirrored perfectly within Zeryth. Isolde's eyes widened, sensing the fusion of powers she couldn't yet comprehend.
The Vice Principal's voice rang across the field.
"Zeryth Malakar… 1,400 points. Exceptional.
Malrik Veynor… 900 points.
Isolde Thorne… 810 points.
Others below passing thresholds."
Zeryth walked calmly to the center, air swirling, water dripping harmlessly, stone reinforcing every step. The wolves, now free of enchantments, approached cautiously. He extended a hand. They passed without interference. Control without aggression, dominance without unnecessary force.
This is only the beginning.
Two years of preparation. Pawns, System fragments, elemental integration. Every observation, every manipulation, every trial has led here. I absorb the world and bend it to myself.
He glanced at Malrik and Isolde. Competent, capable—but even heroes could be tools or obstacles.
Integration is power. Adaptation is immortality. I am S-Class incarnate. Let the System, Principal, or Vice Principal watch—they cannot cage me.
The trial ended. Students filtered off, exhausted. Malrik and Isolde approached, pale but smiling faintly. Zeryth nodded casually.
"Good work," he said, tone neutral yet edged with cold amusement. You're improving, but still slow.
He walked away from the S-Class field, powers humming inside him: air flowing, water shielding, stone reinforcing, wolves' instincts alive, and now fire blazing within him.
