The morning bell rang across Eclipse Academy, echoing through the worn corridors.
Today felt different. Classes were canceled. All students were ordered to gather in the main auditorium. No one knew why.
"Okay, I'm calling it," Minjae said as he and Jiwoo followed the stream of students. "They're either expelling someone, or we're all failing as a group project."
Jiwoo gave him a look. "You think this many people would show up for an expulsion?"
"You'd be surprised," Minjae muttered.
Inside, the auditorium buzzed with chatter and the hum of digital devices. The sleek, LED lights pulsed softly, hinting at their age as they maintained a mellow glow.
Instructors lined the edges of the hall, their faces unreadable.
When the lights dimmed, silence fell.
The side door opened, and Headmaster Elias Kain stepped out.
He didn't need to raise his voice to command the room.
Even with graying hair and a faint scar running along his jaw, he carried himself like someone who'd stood on battlefields — someone who'd seen what the students only read about.
"Students of Eclipse," Kain began, his voice steady and resonant. "Today marks the start of a new era for this academy… and for all institutions like it."
Confused murmurs swept through the crowd.
Minjae leaned closer to Jiwoo. "Why do I feel like we're about to regret showing up?"
Kain continued.
"For years, Eclipse Academy has stood as a place of training and honor. But we've also grown… comfortable. Others have surpassed us — stronger schools, newer heroes, bigger names.
"He paused, his eyes sweeping across the hall. "That changes now."
He gestured, and the screen behind him flared to life, displaying a title in glowing letters:
The First National Academy Tournament
Gasps and chatter broke out immediately. Students turned to one another, voices rising.
"A national tournament?"
"Between academies?"
"Is this serious?"
Kain's gaze silenced them again.
"Yes. The World Hero Association has sanctioned the first-ever inter-academy tournament. Every major academy across the country will participate — and the victors will go on to represent Korea in the international rounds."
The room erupted again. Even Jiwoo's calm expression shifted slightly — surprise flickering in his eyes.
Minjae gripped his hair. "You mean we're competing against actual elites? Half of us can't even channel mana properly!"
In the selection process, a total of six students will be chosen. Out of these, four will serve as the main representatives of the group. Among the remaining two, one will be a substitute, while the last spot among the four main representatives will be designated for a support role. This support student will go through a different selection process to determine who will fill that position.
He let the words sink in before adding, "Only the top will represent us — and prove that Eclipse Academy still stands among the best."
The hall was a storm of excitement and anxiety. Some students whispered names — those already known for their power. Others looked uneasy.
Baek Gunho stood at the side, arms crossed, watching Jiwoo's unreadable face from afar.
When the noise finally settled, Kain gave a faint, knowing smile. "This will not be decided by awakening rank alone. Power without discipline is a burden. Technique, control, and resolve — these will decide who stands in our top six."
A low murmur of determination spread through the students. Minjae leaned in again. "So basically, we're screwed."
"Not if you train," Jiwoo said quietly.
Kain's final words echoed throughout the hall, each syllable a challenge. "The pride of Eclipse Academy has been dormant for too long. Now, it is time to awaken. Prepare yourselves—history remembers those who rise when least expected. Selection will occur next week, so make sure you are ready by then."
The lights brightened again, the screen fading to the academy crest as students slowly began to leave — buzzing, whispering, already imagining themselves standing on that stage.
Minjae exhaled heavily. "Six people out of hundreds. My odds are worse than my dating life."
"Train harder then," Jiwoo said.
Minjae gave him a look. "You say that like training fixes ugly."
Jiwoo only smirked faintly and walked ahead.
***
The faculty lounge was anything but calm. Steam rose from mugs of coffee, a mana heater hummed unevenly in the corner, and the sound of half a dozen instructors arguing filled the air.
"This is ridiculous," said Instructor Lee Sanghoon from the Elemental Division, slamming his notebook shut. "A full-duel selection? We'll have students dropping like flies before the actual tournament even starts."
"That's called natural selection," Baek Gunho replied dryly, leaning against the counter with his usual half-smirk. "Besides, if they can't handle a duel, what makes you think they'll survive a national round?"
Sanghoon pointed a finger at him. "Not everyone trains their class like it's a military bootcamp, Baek."
"Oh, sorry," Baek shot back. "Next time, I'll make them swing their mana like fairy dust."
A couple of instructors snorted. Even Soomin, who was sipping tea nearby, nearly choked trying to hide her laugh.
"Children, please," Instructor Na Hyerim from the Support Division said, waving her hand in an exaggerated manner. "You're scaring the new instructors—how embarrassing."
"Oh, you mean you?" Baek shot back, a smirk on his face. "Yeah, yeah, old hag. I'm not sure which is scarier—your hand waving or your whole vibe."
Without missing a beat, Hyerim grabbed a nearby book and hurled it at him. " Yeah I'm older than you, at least I know how to use my authority! Maybe you should take notes from a grown-up."
Baek dodged the book and laughed. "Old doesn't mean wise, you know! But nice try with the throw; I'd give it a solid 'A' for effort!"
The room broke into light laughter — the kind that came from teachers who'd been through too many of these arguments to take them seriously anymore.
At the far end of the room, Headmaster Elias Kain entered quietly, setting a file on the table. The noise dimmed immediately, though Baek still looked too relaxed to notice.
"Am I interrupting," Kain said evenly, "or is this how Eclipse plans to prepare for a national tournament?"
Soomin straightened slightly. "Just… passionate discussion, Headmaster."
"Sounded more like amateur theatre," Kain said, unamused but faintly amused — a rare tone that somehow silenced the room better than shouting could.
He took a seat at the head of the table, flipping through the student records. "The Association requested all academies use duel-based selection to determine their representatives. It's not ideal, but it ensures fairness."
"Fairness?" Sanghoon muttered. "Half the strong ones will steamroll the rest."
"Then the weak ones learn," Baek said.
Kain looked up at him. "Still as blunt as ever, Gunho."
Baek gave a shrug. "You didn't hire me to sugarcoat things."
"True," Kain said, a faint smile flickering. "But at least pretend to sound encouraging."
The room chuckled again, though the tension eased as the discussion turned practical.
Soomin gestured to the list of students in a tablet, where a roster of top students flickered. "Look at this," Soomin said, pointing. "We already know who will dominate the brackets this semester. Hyunwoo, Jiwon, Jisoo and — the rest are just fighting for the remaining spots."
Baek's eyes lingered on one name lower on the list: Han Jiwoo – E-rank, Combat/Unknown.
He didn't say anything, but Kain noticed.
"Something to add, Gunho?" Kain asked quietly.
Baek gave a small grin. "Just wondering how long it'll take before everyone realizes those ranks mean nothing."
Soomin arched a brow. "You really think your little mystery student will make it through?"
"I don't think," Baek said. "I know."
Sanghoon groaned. "Not this again. You said the same thing about your last 'promising student,' but ended dropping from the academy in midterm."
Baek rolled his eyes. "That was a learning experience."
"For the janitors," Hyerim added, smirking.
The laughter that followed felt like a wave — half the faculty leaning on desks or sipping tea while trading more barbs.
Amid the noise, Kain quietly watched Jiwoo's name glowing faintly on the roster. When the laughter faded, he spoke again, his tone steady.
"This selection will test more than skill. It'll show which students can bear the weight of responsibility."
He glanced at Baek and Soomin."I trust you both to observe the duels closely. Record everything. We'll need to see how each student handles pressure."
Soomin nodded. "Understood."
Baek gave a lazy salute. "I'll bring popcorn."
Kain's eyes narrowed slightly, though his lips twitched — just barely. "Just don't forget you're a teacher, not a commentator."
He stood, collecting the files. As he headed toward the door, he added without looking back,
"Oh, and Baek… try not to draw blood this time on your trainings. The nurse is still sending me reports from your last 'training session.'"
"Can't promise anything," Baek replied, his grin widening.
The door shut behind Kain, leaving the room half-laughing, half-sighing.
When the noise died down again, Soomin leaned against the table and looked at Baek. "You really think he has what it takes?"
Baek's smirk faded just slightly, replaced with something sharper — conviction.
"I've seen what's under the surface. That kid's carrying something different."
Soomin tilted her head. "Different how?"
Baek just looked toward the door. "Ask the headmaster. Maybe he knows something."
Outside, Kain walked the quiet corridor, the file still in hand. He stopped by the window, where the courtyard stretched below — students training, laughing, unaware of what was coming.
He looked down at Jiwoo's name again, murmuring softly to himself.
"Your parents asked me to watch over you… Let's hope you won't do anything bad, kid."