The Academy was a carnival of chaos.
Students poured into the large coliseum with marble towers rising like titans over the rest of the campus.
The massive open roof revealed the floating scoreboard above, while dozens of holographic screens hovered in the air, broadcasting past highlights and upcoming matches.
Vendors yelled out snacks, fan clubs waved posters, and second and third years leaned on balconies looking down with smirks.
Victor was ushered into the south wing of the arena marked with the First-Year Combatant Class symbol and led to a private waiting room with refreshnts and equipnt racks.
He sat calmly with his eyes closed, ntally preparing.
---
Elsewhere in the arena, Amara sat uncomfortably beside Derek Slate in a balcony.
Derek had his arm wrapped lazily around her, and although she tried shifting away multiple tis, he kept pulling her closer.
"Derek... can we move seats?" she asked for the third ti while glancing around at the group of loud, smirking bad boys seated beside them.
"Nah, babe," Derek replied. "We've got the best view here."
One of his goons leaned over and whispered sothing.
"It's done," the guy said.
Derek grinned. "Are you sure?"
"Yep."
Amara turned toward them with narrowed eyes. "What's done?"
Derek waved her off. "Nothing, just a bet. Chill."
She didn't look convinced.
...
The sun had risen high, bathing the vast Academy Arena in golden light. Cheers echoed through the sky as students from all levels filled the seating arrangents surrounding the massive coliseum-like battlefield.
Floating high in the center of the arena were multiple weapons, glimring and hovering in mid-air—
Each gave off a distinct magical aura.
These were no ordinary blades or staffs; they were Legacy Weapons, sacred remnants left behind by so of the greatest warriors, assassins, mages, and defenders of past eras.
Each weapon represented a class which emitted the residual soul-force of its previous master.
Among them, a massive silver longsword crackled with lightning, a jade spear glowed with fiery energy, a crimson dagger twisted faintly in midair as if eager to kill again, and more—each calling to a specific kind of soul.
High above the weapon display stood Vice Chancellor Ravaryn in white robes and a presence so sharp it seed to cut through sound itself.
She raised her hand, and silence followed.
"The Legacy Weapons," she began, "are echoes of history—reminders of greatness that shaped this Academy, and the world beyond. Only those with exceptional potential may wield a legacy. Today, your souls will be asured against theirs."
The crowd erupted into cheers.
"Participants, when your na is called, step forward. Place your hand upon your class's legacy weapon. You will be judged."
~ Waiting Room ~
Victor sat calmly in his waiting room with his legs crossed and fingers drumming against his knee with a bored expression. His sword lay across his lap as he listened to the muffled cheers beyond the walls.
Then he heard it.
"Victor Revenant," called a voice through the arena's PA system.
He stood and approached the door.
Click.
He turned the handle.
Click.
Again.
It didn't budge.
"…what?"
Victor twisted harder before slamming his palm into the control panel. "Open, dammit!"
Nothing...
All of a sudden, a low hissing sound began.
Victor sniffed and imdiately recoiled. "What the—?"
A strange greenish mist poured in from the overhead vents. At first, it was thin and almost odorless. But within seconds, his throat began to constrict.
Cough!
He staggered back with his eyes widening. "What the hell is this…?!"
His body lurched as his knees buckled slightly. Blood began to drip from his nose, then his ears. His vision blurred.
Victor banged his fist against the reinforced door. "HEY!! ANYONE OUT THERE?!"
No response.
Whatever gas this was, it wasn't natural.
His body was crashing. He drew in a breath and tried to circulate qi within, in a bid to resist the effects.
But it wasn't enough. His hands trembled as blood flowed from the corners of his eyes.
---
Back in the Arena, the Warrior class participants had begun lining up.
One by one, each student stepped toward the suspended Legacy Sword that belonged to the fad most powerful warrior, the Blade of a Thousand Victories.
They placed their hands on the hilt.
A floating screen above them shimred and displayed their compatibility.
[ Reysha Marell – 47% – Incompatible. ]
[ Kor Valen – 54% – Compatible. ]
[ Juno Kai – 63% – Compatible. ]
The crowd murmured with every result.
Then it was ti for the S-Rank Warrior—the green-skinned girl who had beco a quiet star in the Academy.
She stepped forward calmly and coldly.
She laid her hand on the weapon.
[ Elyra Vorn – 93% – Extrely Compatible. ]
"Whoa!!" soone shouted from the stands.
Even the instructors exchanged glances. The previous high had been 64%. Elyra had crushed that record.
The crowd cheered wildly.
Then the instructor called again.
"Victor Revenant!"
Nothing.
"Victor Revenant, report to the Warrior class section imdiately!"
Still nothing.
Seconds ticked.
"If you do not appear in two minutes," Instructor Elric warned, "you will be automatically disqualified."
In the upper seating section, Derek Slate sat with a smug smile plastered across his face.
He reclined into his seat while casually tossing a grape into his mouth.
"Guess he's not as special after all," he muttered under his breath.
Amara sat beside him with her arms folded tightly, looking unusually uneasy. She glanced to the far left where Selene and Danny were visible across the arena, staring around in confusion.
"Where is he?" Selene muttered.
Danny squinted. "He wouldn't just skip this. No way."
---
~ Inside the Waiting Room ~
Victor was on his knees.
His breathing had beco shallow. The mist had flooded the entire room. Every attempt to disperse it with qi had failed. It wasn't just poison—it was a targeted suppressor. Designed to shut him down from the inside.
Blood continued to leak from his facial orifices. His vision wavered.
Then he grit his teeth.
"No," he growled. "Not like this…"
He staggered forward, raised his hand, reached for his sword and slamd it against the door.
Again.
And again.
It trembled but he couldn't summon enough strength due to the current ruckus going on within his internal organs.
But Victor didn't stop. He knew the countdown was nearly over. His chance was slipping away.
---
~ Back in the Arena ~
"One minute remaining," Instructor Elric voiced with a frown. "Victor Revenant will be disqualified if he fails to—"
Suddenly, a section of the arena wall exploded with a thunderous boom.
BOOM!
Shrapnel flew everywhere. Screams erupted. Dust clouded the area near the participant's section.
From within the smoke… a figure staggered out.
The figure's face was stained with blood, and flas clung onto his form as he stepped forward.
The crowd instantly went silent...
(( Minutes Earlier ))
Victor could barely breathe. His lungs convulsed, his eyes bled, and a burning sensation crawled under his skin like acid flooding his veins.
The strange gas continued to pour in through the reinforced vents as he slamd against the tallic door of the waiting room.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
No use. He felt faint. Dizzy. His body trembled, barely able to withstand the onslaught.
He knew sothing was wrong the mont the handle didn't budge. Now, with the toxic mist choking him and his body failing, he understood—he had been sabotaged.
"Who... could have done... this..." Victor hissed under his breath while collapsing to one knee with blood dripping from his nostrils. "I won't spare whoever is responsible..."
His vision blurred, but he clenched his teeth.
No matter how weak he felt, his qi was still intact— And that ant there was still a chance.
He forced himself into a lotus position, ignoring the trembling of his limbs, and summoned his will.
Breathe in...
Breathe out...
Focus...
The golden threads of power nestled deep in his dantian began to stir.
"Activate: Dragon Breathing Art..."
A low rumble shook the walls as embers crawled over his skin like tribal runes awakening from slumber.
Fire poured out of different orifices in his body, spreading in violent pulses.
His eyes flared open and then—
BOOOOOM!!!
A violent explosion ruptured the door as fire erupted like a miniature sun, ripping through tal and stone alike.
---
(( Present Ti ))
The instructor tried again. "Victor Revenant, this is your final call! One minute left or you will be disqualified!"
Across the arena, in a more secluded corner, Derek chuckled darkly.
One of his crew leaned in while mirking. "It's working."
Amara sat uncomfortably beside him with her hands clenched. "Where is Victor?"
"Probably chickened out," Derek said with a smug grin.
Amara frowned. Sothing felt off. Her gut was telling her that whatever was wrong had to do with Derek.
All of a sudden—
BOOM!
A thunderous explosion shook the eastern section of the arena.
The ground trembled as screams erupted from students.
"FIRE! FIRE!" shouted several onlookers.
"What the hell is going on?"
"How did that even happen?"
Instructors instantly sprung into action while activating their systems skills.
One of the mage instructors raised her staff and cast a massive cryo-seal:
[ Blizzard Suppression Spell ]
A do of frigid wind swept through the air, blanketing the flas in layers of frost.
The raging inferno began to die out, snuffed under the sudden barrage of sub-zero magic.
But then—
A figure appeared through the fire seemingly untouched by the flas.
Walking forward with steps that made the flas part as if in the presence of a divine presence.
"Th-there's soone walking through the fire!"
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