The hall had gone quiet long after the magic examination ended. The air still hummed faintly with leftover mana from the crystals that had tested hundreds of students. But Kelvin Reinhart stood there in silence, his eyes cold, his thoughts deeper than the void beyond the stars.
He stared at his hand — calm, steady, yet holding the kind of power that could shatter the world if he willed it.
"That crystal…" he thought, his eyes narrowing. "It didn't even react. Maybe it wasn't that the crystal was broken. Maybe… it simply couldn't measure me."
He slowly closed his hand into a fist, feeling the silent pulse of his mana within. It was vast — like an ocean that had swallowed entire nations. His mana was too dense, too ancient, too wild for such a fragile device.
A faint smirk curved his lips. "That makes sense. If that small thing could contain mana that could wipe out a kingdom, it would've exploded long ago."
But behind his confident words hid a trace of unease — not fear of power, but of attention.If others knew the truth, it would cause chaos. People feared what they couldn't understand, and Kelvin knew that well.
"No one needs to know," he whispered under his breath. "The less they see, the better."
The sound of footsteps broke his thoughts.He turned slightly — and there she was.
Alicia.
Her silver hair shimmered softly under the academy's light, and her expression was a mixture of worry and guilt. She hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice gentle and uncertain.
"Kelvin… are you alright?"
Kelvin's golden eyes flickered toward her, his gaze cold and unreadable.
"I'm fine," he replied, his tone flat — like ice that never melts.
Alicia flinched slightly at the sharpness in his voice but forced a faint smile anyway."I was worried. You didn't say anything after the test… and you looked—"
"I said I'm fine."
The words were simple, but the chill behind them cut deeper than any blade.
Alicia lowered her gaze, her fingers tightening around the hem of her sleeve."Are you… still mad at me?" she asked softly. "Because I followed you into the forest that day?"
For a moment, Kelvin said nothing. The silence stretched between them like a wall that neither could cross.Finally, he replied — without looking at her.
"No. I'm not."
And then he turned, walking past her.
His footsteps echoed against the marble floor, fading further with each step.
Alicia stood there, watching his back disappear down the hall. The warmth in her chest faded into something hollow.
He's still angry, she thought, her throat tightening. Even if he says he isn't… his eyes say otherwise.
She let out a small sigh, her expression falling."No," she whispered to herself, shaking her head weakly. "It's not that he's angry… Kelvin just… doesn't care."
The words hurt more than she expected.
Meanwhile, Kelvin stepped out of the hall and into the open grounds of the academy. The air outside was fresh, carrying the faint scent of iron and sunlight — the scent of steel and challenge.
Ahead of him, the sound of swords clashing rang through the training field. It was time for the Sword Examination — the next trial for those who had finished the magic test.
Kelvin adjusted his black coat, the hem fluttering slightly as the wind passed. His eyes narrowed toward the distant platform where dozens of young swordsmen stood, blades gleaming under the morning light.
"Finally," he muttered quietly. "Something that doesn't rely on magic."
As he walked toward the field, he could hear the chatter of the other participants.
"Did you hear? The royal capital's prince is joining this trial!""I saw him! His sword aura is incredible — almost visible!""And that girl from the Crimson Division, she cut through steel like paper earlier!"
Kelvin barely paid attention. The world around him blurred — just noise and movement. What mattered to him wasn't reputation or applause. It was strength — real, silent strength.
He reached the edge of the field and stopped. The view before him was vast — an arena made of white stone, surrounded by spectators and instructors. The morning light reflected off the countless blades being drawn and tested.
Each participant radiated energy. Some with fierce sword intent, others with polished technique. Kelvin could sense their mana flowing through their blades — sharp, disciplined, controlled.
But to him, it all felt small.
He could see every flaw, every unstable rhythm of mana, every ounce of hesitation behind each swing. To the rest, they were geniuses. But to Kelvin, they were merely ripples on the surface of a sea he had already drowned in.
He sighed softly. "So this is the academy's best? They're strong… but not enough."
His eyes drifted upward toward the instructors — older warriors watching from the sidelines, their sharp gazes studying every move. Some of them whispered among themselves, likely already discussing who might pass or fail.
"Next!" an instructor shouted from the center of the field.
A young man stepped forward, holding a gleaming longsword. He moved with precision — every step controlled, every swing clean. His sword aura shone faintly blue, like the surface of calm water.
The crowd murmured in awe. "That's Sir Valtan's student!" "His swordsmanship is nearly perfect!"
Kelvin watched silently. The boy's movements were good — elegant, even. But Kelvin could see it: the hesitation between his strikes, the small inconsistency in his breathing.
"Technique without conviction," Kelvin thought. "A blade that fears to cut will never reach the true edge."
He remembered something his teacher once told him — long before the academy, long before his power had awakened.
"The strongest sword is not forged by steel or mana, Kelvin… but by purpose. If your heart is empty, your sword will be too."
The memory flickered like an ember in his chest, gone as quickly as it appeared.
"Next!"
Another participant stepped forward. This one radiated arrogance — his sword aura flaring brightly as he slashed through the air. Sparks scattered. The instructor nodded approvingly.
The crowd cheered again. Kelvin's expression didn't change.
He stood quietly at the back, his presence so faint that most people didn't even notice him. Yet, those who did — those with sharper senses — couldn't help but glance his way.
There was something… off about him.
He didn't exude mana, nor did he show any visible sword aura. But the stillness around him was unnatural — too calm, too quiet.
Like the silence before a storm.
Alicia arrived at the edge of the crowd, her eyes searching for Kelvin. When she saw him, standing there alone, she hesitated.
He looked isolated — not because no one stood near him, but because no one could. There was an invisible pressure around him, a boundary that kept everyone at a distance.
She wanted to call his name, but her voice froze.
She knew that look.The look of someone who had already decided to walk his path alone.
"... Kelvin." She whispered his name softly, almost like a prayer. But the wind carried it away.
On the field, the instructor's voice echoed again."Next — Kelvin Reinhart!"
All eyes turned.
The name spread through the crowd in murmurs. Some students whispered in confusion — others with curiosity.
"Reinhart? Isn't that the boy who broke the magic crystal?""I heard it didn't even react. Maybe he's just a failure.""Or maybe the crystal couldn't handle him…"
Kelvin stepped forward calmly, ignoring every word.
His black coat swayed slightly with each step, his boots tapping lightly against the stone. His golden eyes glowed faintly under the sunlight — not bright, but sharp, like molten metal.
He reached the center of the field and stopped in front of the instructor.
"Your weapon?" the instructor asked.
Kelvin reached behind his back and unsheathed his blade — a simple, black longsword. No gems, no runes, no glow. Just a pure, dark edge that seemed to drink in the light around it.
The instructor frowned. "That sword… it's not enchanted?"
Kelvin looked up, his tone calm but firm. "I don't need enchantments."
A faint murmur rippled through the crowd again.
The instructor sighed and stepped back. "Very well. You may begin."
Kelvin raised his blade slowly.
For a moment, he simply stood there — unmoving, silent. Then, his breathing changed. Calm, deep, steady. The air around him grew heavy.
The faint sound of wind turned into a low hum — as if the world itself held its breath.
Then he moved.
A single step — and the ground cracked beneath him.A single swing — and the wind howled like a beast unleashed.
The instructor's eyes widened. He couldn't even see the swing — only the aftermath. The stone dummy before Kelvin was sliced cleanly in half, the cut so smooth it reflected the sunlight.
Silence.
Then —
CRACK!
The entire target crumbled into dust.
The crowd gasped in shock.
"What… what was that?""I didn't even see him move!""His sword… it didn't glow, but—"
The instructor swallowed hard, staring at the boy before him. There was no mana radiating from Kelvin. No visible aura. Yet the pressure he gave off was suffocating.
Kelvin slowly lowered his sword, his face expressionless.
"So this is the academy's sword trial," he thought. "Let's see how far I can go before they start asking questions."
He turned slightly — and for a brief moment, his eyes met Alicia's from across the crowd.
She froze.
His gaze wasn't cold this time.It wasn't warm either.
It was… distant. Like a flame hidden behind glass — burning silently where no one could reach.
And then, without another word, Kelvin turned away and walked toward the next phase of the examination, leaving behind the whispers, the shock, and the dust of what he had just destroyed.
The silent flame within him burned brighter — unseen, but unstoppable.
The training grounds buzzed with noise. Wooden swords clashed, mana hummed in the air, and tension wove through the morning sunlight like invisible threads. The Sword Trial of the entrance examination had begun in full swing, and the arena below shimmered with the presence of dozens of hopefuls.
Far above, on a shaded balcony overlooking the field, two senior students leaned against the railing, their robes bearing the crest of the academy.
"Hey," one whispered, his tone calm yet intrigued, "that kid down there… his form is something else."
His companion followed his gaze. "Yeah. The way he moves—it's… perfect. There's no hesitation at all. Every swing carries weight and purpose."
They watched Kelvin Reinhart. He stood among the examinees, his sword glinting faintly as the morning breeze brushed against his coat. Each motion he made was precise, deliberate, and terrifyingly controlled—too controlled for someone supposedly new.
The first senior clicked his tongue softly. "He's not just talented. That's mastery. You can't fake footwork like that."
"Yeah… but look at his mana flow. It's calm, yet… layered. Like he's hiding something deep beneath the surface."
The two shared a glance. Curiosity flickered, and so, quietly, they activated a stealth spell—a shimmer in the air as their forms faded into invisibility. It was a simple trick, often used to observe new students without drawing attention.
But then, something happened that made their hearts stop.
Kelvin's head tilted. His gaze drifted—slowly—upward. Directly toward them.
Both seniors froze.
"…He's looking this way?" one whispered.
"That can't be. We're invisible."
Kelvin's eyes remained on them for a moment longer, unreadable, then he turned away as if he'd merely been distracted by a sound in the distance.
The first senior exhaled, his voice shaky. "That was… weird. For a second, I thought he saw us."
"Impossible," the other said, trying to laugh it off. "Maybe he sensed some movement. No one can see through Stealth at this range."
"Yeah… probably." Yet, even as they said it, sweat slid down their temples.
Below, Kelvin sheathed his training sword as the proctor dismissed the last round of the test. His mind wandered, detached from the chatter of the students around him. The moment the blade left his hand, the faint hum of mana faded from the air, and silence pressed against his thoughts.
He'd confirmed one thing: this academy truly gathered exceptional people. Some students displayed technique refined by years of practice. Others wielded mana as though born with it. It was… interesting.
As Kelvin stepped away from the training field, a familiar voice called from behind.
"Kelvin!"
He turned slightly. Merlin jogged up, a bright grin on his face and his staff slung lazily across his shoulder.
"Oh, Merlin," Kelvin said calmly. "Finished with the magic test?"
Merlin nodded. "Yeah. It was crazy! So many of them are prodigies. You should've seen this one girl—she cast a five-layer spell circle like it was nothing! I'm starting to think I should have studied harder before coming here."
A small, fleeting smile touched Kelvin's lips. "You'll be fine. How about you? Pass easily?"
Merlin scratched the back of his neck. "Well… the instructors looked kinda surprised when I released my mana, so I guess it went well. Anyway, what about you? Sword trial done?"
Kelvin nodded. "Yes. There are plenty of talented ones here too. The academy's reputation is well-earned."
Merlin's eyes sparkled. "I knew it! This place is like the heart of the continent. Everyone with potential ends up here. Oh—by the way…" He paused, lowering his voice slightly. "Do you, uh… know that girl over there?"
Kelvin glanced where Merlin was pointing.
Amid the scattering students stood a girl, her long white hair catching the sunlight like frost. Her eyes—an icy blue—watched Kelvin quietly from afar. There was no hostility in her gaze, yet something about it felt… searching, like she was trying to confirm a memory.
"I don't know her," Kelvin said after a moment.
"Really? She's been looking at you since you finished your duel." Merlin tilted his head. "You sure she's not an acquaintance? Maybe someone from a past training session or—"
Before he could finish, the girl turned away abruptly and walked toward the far corridor, her footsteps fading into the crowd.
Merlin blinked. "She left?"
Kelvin's eyes lingered on the space she'd been standing. "It seems so."
The conversation fell quiet for a moment. The distant sound of clashing swords and laughter from other students filled the silence.
Merlin glanced sideways at Kelvin, his curiosity simmering. "You're really calm about everything, huh? Most people would be freaking out right now—first day, tough exams, mysterious girls staring at them…"
Kelvin said nothing, his gaze drifting back toward the sword arena. He wasn't ignoring Merlin—he simply had no reason to respond. His thoughts were elsewhere, far beyond this courtyard of chatter and pride.
It wasn't arrogance. It was focus.
The mana crystal earlier couldn't read his true strength—that much he was certain of. But perhaps it was better that way. If anyone truly understood the depth of his mana, it would bring problems. And problems, for now, were unnecessary.
Merlin sighed and shook his head. "Man, you're impossible to read sometimes. Still, I'm glad you came to this academy. It's going to be interesting."
Kelvin looked at him for a moment, then simply said, "Maybe."
They began walking back toward the dormitory path, sunlight glimmering off the stone pavement. The academy's campus stretched far beyond sight—towering spires of marble, training fields glowing with faint runes, students bustling in every direction. The place pulsed with energy, a living world of ambition and rivalry.
As they passed a group of instructors, Kelvin felt another flicker of observation. Someone was watching again—but this time, it wasn't from the balcony. His senses brushed faint traces of mana hidden in the crowd. Observation spells. Testing, measuring.
He said nothing.
Instead, his eyes briefly met the empty air where he felt the presence. A ripple passed through the mana field, and whoever was watching quickly dispelled their spell.
Merlin, oblivious, was still talking about how one examinee accidentally set his own robe on fire during the magic test. "You should've seen it, Kelvin! He tried to cast a Flame Arrow but—boom! Instant barbecue!"
Kelvin exhaled softly, neither amused nor uninterested—just… quietly existing in the moment.
As they reached the edge of the courtyard, Merlin waved to a few familiar faces. The laughter of students filled the air again, carefree and bright.
Kelvin glanced once more at the spot where the white-haired girl had stood. A small glimmer of something—perhaps curiosity, perhaps recognition—stirred deep within him. But he let it fade.
Whatever connection that girl had with him, if any, would reveal itself in time.
The bell tower above the academy chimed softly, signaling the end of the examination period. The sky, once bright blue, had turned a soft gold under the descending sun. The crowds began to disperse, leaving only whispers of excitement about who might pass, who might fail, and who might surprise everyone.
Merlin stretched with a groan. "That's it for today. I'm starving. Cafeteria first?"
Kelvin nodded faintly. "Sure."
As they walked away, the two seniors from before reappeared on the balcony, the stealth spell now undone.
One of them exhaled. "That was scary. For a moment, I thought he really saw us."
"Yeah…" the other murmured. "His eyes… felt sharp. Like he could see through everything."
They exchanged a glance, unease rippling beneath their composure.
"Maybe he's just really perceptive," the first said, trying to sound casual. "Still, I've never seen anyone react like that. Not even the top students from last year."
"Let's report it," his friend replied. "The instructors might want to keep an eye on him."
"Agreed."
Down below, Kelvin and Merlin vanished into the busy crowd, unaware—or perhaps perfectly aware—of the eyes already turning toward them.
The academy's gates loomed in the distance, golden light scattering off the tall spires. For most students, this place symbolized the beginning of a dream. For Kelvin, it was something different entirely—another step in a journey that stretched far beyond human understanding.
He walked calmly beside Merlin, silent and unreadable as always, his thoughts drifting like the wind: If even one person here can sense what I truly am… then this peace won't last long.
The wind whispered through the training fields, carrying faint echoes of swords clashing and laughter fading into dusk.
And somewhere, far above, a presence unseen watched the boy with quiet anticipation.
The cafeteria of Arcane Blade Academy was alive with chatter and clinking utensils. Students crowded around long tables, laughing, comparing results from the morning tests, and sharing stories of minor victories and failures. The sunlight poured through the tall windows, casting a warm glow across the polished wooden floors and glowing runes etched subtly into the ceiling.
Kelvin Reinhart sat quietly at a corner table, the faint hum of the hall washing over him without disturbing his calm. Merlin plopped down opposite him, his tray already stacked with food, eyes darting around the room with endless curiosity.
"Finally," Merlin said, exhaling as he picked up his utensils. "I thought I was going to starve after that grueling trial. Everyone else looks like they're about to collapse, but I'm fine. Totally fine."
Kelvin didn't respond immediately. He simply nodded, his gaze sweeping over the cafeteria as though cataloging every detail: the flow of mana in the room, the spacing between tables, the subtle interactions of students around him.
Merlin poked at his food, then leaned forward, lowering his voice. "So… what do you think of the academy so far? It's crazy, right? All those prodigies, all that magic… and swords. I can barely keep up!"
"Interesting," Kelvin said softly. "There is talent here, more than I expected. Not surprising for an academy of this reputation."
Merlin's eyes sparkled with excitement. "I knew it! But, hey… wait. Look over there."
He pointed subtly across the cafeteria. A hush seemed to ripple through the nearby tables as a figure entered. Alicia Arclight walked in, graceful and composed. The moment she appeared, several students—mostly young men—couldn't help but stare. Whispers trailed in her wake.
"Is that… Alicia Arclight?" someone murmured. "She's gorgeous!"
"Yeah, she's like Lucia Lunaris!" another voice exclaimed. "The famed beauty of the eastern districts!"
Merlin blinked, tilting his head in confusion. "Lucia Lunaris? Who's that?"
Kelvin glanced toward the crowd without moving his posture. "Perhaps the girl who was observing us earlier. Their appearances are similar."
Merlin frowned thoughtfully. "Makes sense… but, honestly, that girl we saw before… she seemed even more beautiful. Don't you think?"
Kelvin's voice was calm, almost detached. "Is that so? I find all girls essentially the same."
Merlin froze mid-bite, chewing slowly as his brow furrowed. "What do you mean by that? That's… that's weird, Kelvin."
Kelvin didn't elaborate. His attention drifted instead toward the far end of the cafeteria. Alicia had joined a small group, including a girl with dark hair and yellow eyes. Their conversation was quiet, friendly, and effortless. Kelvin noted the interaction, making a quiet mental observation.
She's made a companion, he thought. That will make the upcoming group trials easier.
Merlin nudged him, sensing his contemplative pause. "So… about the next test," he said. "It's a team challenge, right? We're supposed to form pairs or groups to see how well we cooperate. I, uh… I don't really excel at defense. Want to team up with me?"
Kelvin tilted his head, considering briefly. "Very well. Besides, I have no other companions here aside from you."
Merlin's face brightened instantly. "Yes! I knew you'd say that. Don't worry—I'll do my best, but… maybe don't hold back too much. I tend to panic when I'm cornered."
Kelvin's reply was simple, composed. "Understood. Then we will coordinate our strengths and compensate for weaknesses."
Merlin nodded eagerly, clearly satisfied with the arrangement. "Alright! That's settled then. Just think of it as… adventure practice. You know, fighting with a friend and stuff. It'll be fun!"
The bell above the cafeteria rang softly, signaling the end of the lunch period. Students began gathering their trays, chatting about who they would pair with and discussing the earlier trials. Many cast glances at Kelvin and Merlin as they walked toward the academy's main training area, whispers following them like ripples in water.
"Do you know those two girls she was talking to?" Merlin asked quietly.
Kelvin glanced toward Alicia, now laughing softly at something the black-and-yellow-eyed girl had said. "Not yet. Names and backgrounds are of little importance to me for now. Observation is sufficient."
Merlin tilted his head. "Still… it's kinda funny. You act like you don't care, but you notice everything."
Kelvin's expression remained unchanged, but the faintest hint of focus crossed his mind. Every movement, every glance, every slight adjustment in posture—it all carried meaning. Students weren't just testing themselves; they were testing others. And he would not ignore such things.
As they exited the cafeteria, the corridors beyond were buzzing with students forming teams. Some were laughing, others strategizing, and a few were already sizing up potential partners for the group examination. Kelvin and Merlin moved calmly through the crowd, steadily weaving toward the open training field.
Merlin whispered again, eyes wide. "This place is insane. Look at all the talent! I can feel it in the air."
Kelvin merely nodded. "It is expected. Only those capable of adapting will survive. The rest will falter."
Alicia's laughter echoed faintly as Kelvin glanced in her direction once more. Her presence, coupled with the dark-haired companion, suggested a quiet but strong alliance. Perhaps her path in this academy would be easier than most, but that was irrelevant. Kelvin focused on what he could control: his own skill, his own strategy, and the next challenge ahead.
The group trial would test more than swordsmanship; it would measure cooperation, adaptability, and critical thinking under pressure. Kelvin already considered potential formations, how Merlin's strengths could complement his own style, and what threats other students might pose. He was prepared—more prepared than most—yet the slight flutter of anticipation was present.
Merlin, oblivious to the depth of Kelvin's calculations, spoke brightly. "Come on, Kelvin! Let's grab a good spot. We don't want to get stuck with the really overpowered teams. I mean… unless you plan to carry me, which is totally fine too!"
Kelvin allowed a quiet exhale, almost imperceptible. "We will proceed as a single unit. Observation first, action second. Strategy always precedes execution."
Merlin blinked, then smiled widely. "Wow… that sounded… really fancy. Okay, okay! Lead the way, master strategist!"
The pair walked side by side, their movements calm yet purposeful. Around them, students were forming pairs and groups, strategies whispered and arguments brief but heated. Kelvin's eyes scanned every potential opponent, every potential ally. Each decision could tip the scales in the upcoming trial.
Alicia's group had already found a corner of the field to discuss plans, her laughter and gestures drawing attention without effort. The black-and-yellow-eyed girl beside her seemed capable, confident, and sharp—a combination that suggested Alicia had chosen her carefully. Kelvin filed the observation away silently: the group dynamics here could be influential, but for now, it was merely data.
Merlin leaned in, whispering, "Do you think she noticed you looking?"
Kelvin shook his head slightly. "Irrelevant. Observation without interference is preferable."
Merlin shrugged, clearly puzzled but not insistent. "Sure… if you say so. You really are impossible to read sometimes, Kelvin. But hey, I like having you around. Makes this whole academy thing… less scary."
Kelvin's lips twitched faintly, though he did not smile. "Then our partnership is mutually beneficial."
The sound of the bell chimed again, signaling the official start of the group trial. Students took positions on the field, some quietly strategizing, others nervously shifting in place. Kelvin and Merlin moved to a central spot, calm and composed, eyes scanning the opponents, allies, and overall field layout.
"Remember," Kelvin said quietly, "strength is not everything. Observation, timing, and coordination determine the outcome. Our objective is efficiency, not glory."
Merlin grinned. "Roger that! Let's show them what teamwork looks like!"
Kelvin simply nodded. In that quiet acknowledgment, the day's next challenge was about to begin—full of potential, strategy, and the subtle thrill of testing limits in a place built for the extraordinary.