CHAPTER 32 — Entrance exam (4)
The noise of the arena still lingered in Rowan's ears as he stepped out through the wide stone passage.
The cheers… the claps… the murmurs—
They followed him like a fading echo, slowly dissolving into the distant hum of the stadium behind him.
Even after he found a seat, even after the battle had already moved on to someone else—
It stayed.
Right now, Rowan sat in the stadium, eyes closed.
Still reminiscing the cheers and claps he got after the end of the battle.
The moment his axe had cut through the air.
The moment Cyan had fallen.
The moment the crowd had—
Cheered.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
Crunch...! Crunch...! Crunch...!
His brows twitched.
Crunch…! Crunch…!
The sound pressed against his ears again—loud, repetitive and unnaturally annoying.
Rowan's eyelids lifted slowly.
He turned.
Eldric sat beside him, legs stretched forward, completely relaxed—casually eating popcorn while watching the matches as if nothing in the world mattered.
"You awake?"
"What?"
Eldric didn't even look at him at first. He tossed another piece of popcorn into his mouth, then turned lazily.
"I thought you were sleeping."
Rowan blinked once, then shook his head lightly.
"No… I was just…"
He paused, eyes drifting back toward the arena.
"…remembering how everyone was cheering after I won
"Hah..." Eldric scoffed.
He turned his head fully this time, eyes locking onto Rowan's. The casual laziness in his posture didn't match the faint edge in his voice.
"Don't let one victory get over your head."
A pause.
Rowan didn't respond immediately.
Somewhere inside the arena, another explosion of sound erupted—the roar of the crowd rising and falling like waves crashing against stone.
Eldric broke eye contact first.
He leaned back again, tossing another popcorn into his mouth like nothing had happened.
"There will be many other battles that are about to come."
Rowan let out a small breath he didn't realize he had been holding. His shoulders relaxed slightly as he leaned down on his chair.
Then suddenly —
"Um-uh." Eldric straightened abruptly.
The bucket of popcorn tightened in his grip as he leaned forward, eyes glued upward.
Rowan frowned.
"What now—?"
But Eldric didn't answer.
His gaze was fixed.
Rowan followed it.
Above them, a floating square crystal screen hovered in the air—glowing faintly, names flickering across its surface.
Names flickered across the screen—
pairings being announced one after another.
Then—
A name appeared.
Lyren Aerilon.
Vs
Zorian Voltis
The Glowing screen above shimmered.
And a face emerged.
Silver hair.
Sharp features.
Golden eyes that seemed too still—too precise.
He wore a silver-white uniform, the crest of swirling wind carved neatly into his chest pocket.
His coat hung over his shoulders like a cape, unmoving despite the breeze brushing past him.
Rowan looked at the glowing screen his eyes furrowed as he looked at Lyren.
He remembers...
The restaurant.
The two groups who suddenly started fighting there.
And the chaos.
The wrecked state the restaurant was left in.
"…Isn't he the same guy who suddenly started fighting in the restaurant…?"
Rowan muttered under his breath.
On the arena floor—
Lyren stood calm.
The wind around him stirred lightly, brushing against his clothes as if acknowledging his presence.
Across from him stood Zorian Voltis.
Tall.
Lean.
His white-and-blue uniform carried the emblem of cloud and thunder, etched in layered patterns across the fabric. Faint arcs of electricity danced along the edges of his sleeves, flickering like restrained energy.
His grip on the staff was tight.
Controlled.
But not relaxed.
They stood facing each other.
Just waiting for the battle to begin.
And then—
Battle Begins
The Skyrend student moved instantly.
His staff flared with energy—
A sharp burst of wind spiraled around it, instantly laced with crackling lightning.
"Tempest Lance!"
The spell shot forward.
A concentrated spear of compressed wind wrapped in jagged lightning tore through the air, the force splitting the space around it with a sharp, violent screech.
Lyren didn't move.
At least—
That's what it looked like.
The lightning passed—
But Lyren was no longer there.
Rowan's eyes widened.
"Huh—?"
A blur of movement—
A faint distortion in the air—
Lyren appeared a few steps to the side, his expression unchanged.
Not hurried.
Not strained.
Just… effortless.
Another spell came.
The Wind spiralled.
The Lightning cracked through the air
Each attack faster than the last.
Zorian didn't stop.
His staff moved faster, spells layering over each other—wind guiding lightning, lightning amplifying wind, each attack sharper than the last.
And yet—
Lyren moved through them.
Not blocking.
Not countering.
Just… stepping aside.
Like he already knew where each attack would land.
Rowan leaned forward unconsciously.
"…"
Each movement was small and Minimal.
A tilt of the head.
A shift of the foot.
A slight turn of the body.
Nothing wasted.
Nothing extra.
Zorian's breathing grew heavier.
His attacks grew faster.
More aggressive.
More desperate.
Wind howled louder.
Lightning struck sharper.
At one point, three streaks of thunder twisted through a spiraling gust—splitting into multiple angles mid-air, closing in from different directions.
Lyren stepped forward.
Not back.
But forward.
He slipped between the attacks.
Not fast—
But precise.
It looked Like he truly knew where each spell would land.
Rowan's eyes remained locked on him.
Unblinking.
Zorian's attacks grew faster.
More desperate.
But Lyran—
Still looked bored.
He just dodged everything effortlessly.
He hasn't even said anything up until now.
As if his opponent doesn't deserve to hear anything from him.
Then—
He moved forward.
One step.
Then another.
Slipping between spells like a shadow between beams of light.
Rowan's eyes were glooed to the fight intensely.
While looking at the fight and the way Lyren moved. The image of Riven came to his mind.
He can't help but remember his first fight with Riven.
"He is... Amazing."
Inthe areana —
Lyren is moving like invincible.
No spell is able to hit him.
He is dodging everything swiftly and effortlessly.
While his opponent is struggling trying to hit him with any spell he can think.
Sometimes Lyren is beside his opponent. Sometimes in his back.
So sometimes at the very front.
At one point, he appeared beside Zorian and casually tapped his shoulder.
Zorian flinched and turned instantly.
Nothing.
Then a light knock landed on the back of his head.
The crowd reacted.
A ripple of laughter mixed with awe.
Zorian's jaw tightened.
His grip trembled.
His movements lost rhythm.
While watching Lyren dodging spells.
The way he is Slipping between spells.
A memory flickered in Rowan's mind.
"Ugh..." Rowan slumped against the table.
Many books were scattered across it.
"This so boring." Rowan groaned.
Riven sat across from him, writing calmly.
"You still have to read."
"Ahh... But still some answers are so long that it makes me wonder if it is answer of one question or a joint answer of ten."
Riven spared him a glance.
"That's why I told you to start reading short answer books first. Now Stop complaining and open next book."
"Ahh... Ok.. " Rowan says as he picks a random book from the scattered mess.
"What's it's title?" Riven asks.
Rowan looks at the book.
"umm... Theory of teleportation?"
Riven's eyes furrowed, he lifted his head and took the book.
"Why is this book here?"
"...Huh?" Rowan's eyes widened when Riven suddenly snatched the book out of his hands.
"It's useless for you right now, so take another book." Riven added.
"Why? what is this? A book about some legendary magic?" Rowan asked pressing his hand on the table and abruptly standing in excitement.
Riven shrugged him off.
"Nah... It's just a theory on teleportation spell."
"Teleportation? What is that?" Rowan asked the curiosity visible in his eyes.
"sigh... Teleportation is a spell that helps you move without moving."
At that Rowan raised his eyebrows.
"That makes no sense."
"It allows you to disappear from one point and appear at another instantly. No physical movement in between."
"Wow...!" Rowan's eyes widened with amazement.
"A spell like that exists—"
"Only in theory." Riven cut him off abruptly.
"There is no such spell like that."
Back to present.
Rowan can't believe in his eyes. The way Lyren is moving. Is similar to how Riven had told him about teleportation.
While the crowd is erupting in cheers and clasps.
Rowan stood frozen in his place.
"That guy..." his voice barley came out.
"Is he teleporting?"
Beside him Eldric scoffed.
"Teleportation doesn't exist. Idiot."
Rowan turned sharply.
"But the way that guy is moving it's like
tele—."
"That's not teleportation." Eldric said calmly.
"Huh...?" Rowan blinked
"...Then what is that?"
Eldric's eyes remained fixed on Lyran.
"...Wind."
"Wind?"
"He's using it to move his body."
Eldric nods and continues.
"He is using the moment of wind to predict the direction of spells and then uses the wind around his body to move like that. It may look like Teleportation at first but it actually isn't. It's more like predicting the direction and moving accordingly."
Rowan's brows furrowed deeper.
"…That's possible?"
Eldric didn't answer immediately.
"…Not for most people."
In the Areana...
Spells were raging out their noises cutting through the air.
Lighting cracked.
Wind howled.
But none of them were able to even graze Lyren's hair .
Lyren looked at his opponent his hands still inside his pockets. His eyes shifted as if he has now made his decision.
Zorian's breathing was uneven.
He lifted his staff.
But before he could cast a spell.
Suddenly—
Lyren stepped forward.
And in an instant—
He was standing right in front of him.
The arena seemed to freeze.
Lyran lifted his hand.
Two fingers extended.
Pressed gently—
Against Zorian's forehead.
"—"
For a fraction of a second—
Nothing happened.
Then—
A sharp burst of compressed wind exploded at point-blank range.
The impact was silent—
But the force wasn't.
Zorian's body lifted off the ground and shot backward.
Thrown like he weighed nothing—
His eyes went blank. As he was falling but before he could hit the ground.
The barrier flared—
And he vanished from the arena.
Silence.
Then—
The crowd erupted.
For a brief moment Rowan remained frozen in place.
Then he slowly took a deep breath crossed his arms around his chest and leaned on his chair.
'I thought that Riven was strong but this guy. He is... even more powerful then Riven.'
On the field—
Lyran stood still for a moment after the match ended.
Then—
Slowly—
His gaze lifted.
Toward the audience.
Rowan stiffened.
For a brief second—
It felt like those golden eyes had locked onto him.
A strange tension gripped his chest.
But then—
A sudden surge of heat snapped his attention away.
"…Huh?"
He turned—
And saw the person sitting beside him.
A Skyrend student.
His uniform crackled faintly—tiny arcs of electricity and wind were dancing across the fabric.
His fists were clenched so tightly the veins stood out beneath his skin.
His eyes—
Burning.
Locked onto Lyran.
Rowan's breath caught slightly.
A memory clicked into place.
"…This guy…"
He remembered that in that restaurant it was this guy who was fighting Lyren with his group.
The student suddenly stood up.
Without a word—
He turned and walked out of the stadium.
Each step heavy.
Each step restrained.
Rowan watched him leave, something uneasy settling in his chest.
He remembered the things Eldric had told him about the houses and sanctums.
"…They really hate each other…" he muttered.
Eldric exhaled slowly.
"You're starting to get it."
Rowan leaned back slightly, his shoulders easing into the stone seat, yet his gaze remained fixed on the arena.
On the empty space where Lyren had stood just moments ago.
"That guy's insane…"
The words slipped out quietly, almost like he wasn't even aware he had spoken.
He exhaled, slow and steady.
"The way he moved…" his brows knit faintly, searching for the right words, "…it didn't even feel real."
A brief pause.
"And… he didn't even use a wand," Rowan added, glancing sideways.
"Hmm... Eldric responded lazily, tossing another piece of popcorn into his mouth.
"Yeah he doesn't use a wand."
Rowan's eyes narrowed slightly.
It wasn't what Eldric said—
It was how casually he said it.
"…Do you know him?" Rowan asked, turning his head fully this time.
Eldric nodded without hesitation, his eyes still on the arena.
"Ofcourse... Everybody knows him. Afterall, He is a supernova."
Rowan blinked.
His brows slowly pulled together.
"Super... What?"
Eldric let out a quiet sigh, shifting slightly in his seat. He brushed the crumbs off his fingers before speaking again.
"In magic, there are levels of talent."
This time, he turned his head toward Rowan.
"Like genius and prodigy."
Rowan nodded quickly.
"Yeah... I know genius."
"Good",Eldric said." Then it will be easy."
He leaned back, resting his elbow against the armrest.
"There are people who are naturally more talented than others. We call them Geniuses."
Rowan nodded again, slower this time, following closely.
"Yeah."
"Above genius there is prodigy. People who whose talent stands out even among geniuses."
A brief pause.
Eldric's gaze drifted back toward the arena.
"— But..."His voice lowered slightly "There are some people who are so talented that their talent can't even be measured on that scale."
Rowan's attention sharpened.
"Those are called Novas."
Eldric folded his arms loosely across his chest.
"Genius among geniuses. Or A Prodigy among prodigies."
Rowan didn't interrupt this time.
He just listened—quiet, focused, absorbing every word.
Then—
Eldric continued.
"But then... There are people whose talent is beyond Novas. A talent that rarely comes once in generations."
His eyes flicked upward, toward the glowing crystal screen.
"Those types of talents are called Supernovas."
Rowan followed his gaze instinctively.
Lyren's image still lingered faintly on the screen.
"They're rare," Eldric added. "So rare you can count them on one hand."
A small pause settled between them.
Then Eldric lifted his hand slightly, pointing toward the screen.
"Just like him."
He let his hand fall back, arms crossing again.
"People like that…" he muttered, "…can only be described as exceptions."
Rowan's eyebrows twitched slightly at the word.
Exceptions.
The arena noise swelled again in the background, but it felt distant—like it belonged somewhere else.
"You're lucky," Eldric added, tilting his chin toward another part of the screen now displaying group allocations, "there's no one like him in your group."
Rowan blinked and followed his line of sight.
The display shifted—
Groups.
Numbers.
Names.
"After the written exam," Eldric continued,
"the remaining two thousand contenders were divided into ten groups."
"Each group has two hundred participants."
Rowan's eyes widened a little.
"...!"
His wrist flickered faintly as his watch updated.
Group 8.
He stared at it for a second—then looked back up.
"I wanna know more about these supernovas…" he said, leaning forward slightly, curiosity clear in his eyes.
"Like… where do they even come from?"
Eldric tilted his head back slightly, thinking.
"Most of them come from elemental houses… or mage sanctums."
His voice remained calm, matter-of-fact.
"They get the best training. The best resources. The best mentors."
A faint pause.
"That's how their talent gets nurtured."
Rowan nodded slowly, a quiet sense of awe settling on his face.
Eldric glanced at him from the corner of his eye.
"But not everyone from those places is a supernova," he added.
Rowan looked at him again.
"No need to get nervous."
Eldric turned his gaze back toward the arena.
"A Supernova doesn't always comes from houses or sanctums. Sometimes... Some also come from other institutions like academies."
Eldric took a deep breath.
"As I told you. They are Exceptions."
A brief silence followed.
Then Eldric looked back at Rowan.
"Now you get it?"
Rowan nodded slowly.
"…Wow…"
The word came out under his breath.
A pause lingered.
Then—
"That means…"
His expression suddenly brightened.
"…I'm also a supernova."
Silence.
Eldric frowned slightly and stared at him blankly.
"…What?"
Rowan scratched the back of his head, smiling sheepishly.
"Well… when I was learning wood cutting—"
Eldric's expression didn't change.
"My dad said I was exceptional," Rowan continued, a hint of pride slipping into his voice.
"He said he had seen many lumberjacks… but never someone like me."
Eldric's eyes slowly narrowed.
"And I perfected wood cutting in just two days." Rowan added. "So technically—"
A sudden chuckle escaped Eldric's lips.
"…You idiot."
He shook his head, still laughing lightly.
"This and that are completely different things."
Rowan frowned slightly, confusion settling in.
"…Huh?"
Eldric glanced at him once, then looked away again.
"Magic isn't wood cutting."
Rowan froze.
The words landed on his ears like heavy stones. Dropped into a deep, still well.
A beat passed.
Then—
"…Ohhhhhhhhh...."
The arena roared again in the background.
But between the two of them—
A quiet moment settled.
Light.
Simple.
And strangely calm.
----
CHAPTER ENDS