The first light of dawn painted the academy in gold and silver, glinting off the spires of Arclight Academy. Students hurried to the central courtyard, their hearts pounding—not just from nerves, but from the weight of the world outside. Rumors of war had spread like wildfire across the continent, and even the academy, a bastion of learning, felt the tension.
Kael walked silently through the stone-paved corridors, hood low, hands in pockets. He observed the crowds with a detached eye, noting whispers and sideways glances, sensing their anxieties. Kingdoms were preparing for conflict. The Oblivion Veil, a dark cult that whispered of apocalypse and destruction, had already infiltrated major cities. And in this chaos, the academy was training the next generation of warriors, mages, and elite defenders.
Yet Kael felt no fear. Only anticipation.
A brunette student murmured to her companion, clutching her staff tightly. "They say the Oblivion Veil has already hit the northern borders. If the war breaks out while we're still training…"
Her friend shivered. "I just hope I rank high enough to get into a decent dorm. I don't want to be stuck in the lower tiers while S-rank students are out protecting kingdoms."
Around them, the courtyard buzzed with the same mix of excitement and fear. Everyone felt the weight of the ranking system: F through SS+. Most would barely break into D or C. A few prodigies might touch B. Only legends would ever see S-tier, and fewer still would survive to approach SS. And yet, every student here hoped to exceed expectations. The exam wasn't just for prestige—it could determine life or death in the chaos looming beyond the academy walls.
Kael stopped at the edge of the courtyard, observing. Students dashed past him, showcasing flashy spells and elaborate weapon techniques, desperate to impress. But he didn't need to. He didn't care. Glory was for fools. Kael's interest lay only in strength, in testing limits, in grinding alone while others basked in attention.
He flexed his fingers around Ruin and Reaver, feeling the familiar hum of the chain between them. Rainbow-colored eyes flickered faintly, reflecting the magic surging around the academy. The thrill of potential combat, the anticipation of unseen challenges, made his pulse quicken. Most of the students didn't notice him. Few would. But that was how he liked it.
From the top of a flight of stairs, a silver-haired girl observed quietly. Her piercing blue eyes followed him as he moved, noting his relaxed posture, the axes barely visible under his cloak, and the faint glimmer of his rainbow eyes. "He's… different," she whispered to herself. "Not just skilled… dangerous."
Lyra had been watching from the moment the students gathered. Most were nervous, shouting to show off skills, desperate for rankings. But Kael… he moved like a predator calm in the storm, untouched by their frantic energy. And when he let slip the faintest grin while adjusting his axes, she realized he enjoyed power in a way no one else here could comprehend.
The headmaster stepped forward, robes flowing, staff tapping lightly against the stone. "Welcome, students. Today marks the beginning of your evaluation. Your skills, your intellect, your endurance—all will be tested. Remember, your ranks are not just letters. They are a measure of potential, of survival, and of your contribution to this continent in times of war."
A hush fell over the courtyard. The weight of the world outside, the whispers of cults, and the pressure of kingdom expectations pressed down on everyone.
Kael stepped forward, unhurried, axes hidden beneath his cloak. Other students rushed to demonstrate their power—spells flaring, swords clashing, sparks flying. They drew cheers, attention, and approval. Kael ignored it all.
He approached the first station: a crystal pedestal pulsing faintly, measuring natural talent. Students struggled to control their magic; their efforts ranged from shaky bursts to reckless explosions. Kael lowered his hands. A subtle pulse of his innate energy surged, activating the crystal. Light danced along the pedestal, bending and twisting in impossible patterns, colors intertwining like a rainbow storm. Observers gasped.
"He… what kind of mana is that?" whispered a student.
Kael's lips curved slightly, almost imperceptibly. "Unstable. Hard to control," he said quietly, a calm contrast to the chaos around him.
Lyra's gaze sharpened. She stepped closer, careful not to draw attention. Few dared observe Kael directly; fewer still survived the unsettling sense that came with doing so. She had seen enough to know he wasn't just talented—he was different. And in this time of war and cult threats, someone like him could tip the balance of the coming conflict.
Kael felt her presence but didn't acknowledge it. Not yet. Let her watch. Curiosity would lead her further.
The courtyard erupted as the combat trials began. Students clashed with wooden dummies, sparring partners, and obstacle courses. The tension, the stakes, and the whispered fear of the Oblivion Veil outside made every movement more intense, every failure more dangerous.
Kael moved through it like a shadow, axes still hidden, eyes flickering faintly in the sunlight. He didn't fight for recognition. He fought for the thrill, the experience, the quiet ecstasy of testing limits. And somewhere in the crowd, Lyra continued to watch, captivated by the storm he concealed beneath calm.
The academy had yet to see the full measure of Kael's power—but already, the whispers had begun.