The hiss of pressurized steam echoed through the station as the train slowed to a stop, its iron fra gleaming under the early morning sun. Passengers bustled off the platforms, so wide-eyed and others seasoned with travel. Among them walked Noah, a bag in each hand, dressed in a simple black coat that fluttered slightly in the breeze as he stepped off the steam-powered transport.
He glanced around the station of Arkesia, the capital city. Towering structures of polished stone and arcane glass surrounded the place, each one humming softly with embedded enchantnts. Mana veins pulsed faintly along the edges of the city walls—like blood vessels of a living being.
Noah walked forward at a steady pace, maneuvering through the crowd. As he did, his gaze dropped to the letter folded neatly in his hand. It was from his mother.
He unfolded it again, even though he’d read it twice already on the way.
My dear Noah,
I know this is the beginning of sothing important, but forgive for worrying. Please write to when you can. I know you’re not my little boy anymore, but... I’ll still miss you every day.
Don’t forget your scarf. Eat properly. And be careful with strangers.
Love you always,
Mama.
A small sigh left his lips as he folded it back up and tucked it into his coat pocket.
’She’s really worried... I’ll send a letter once I settle in.’
A few blocks away from the station, a cobblestone path led to the towering gates of Arkesia Academy. Just outside the gates stood a group of upper-year students, clearly assigned to help guide the incoming first-years. They wore dark blue uniforms with silver accents—identical to the new students’ attire, but with a distinct second-year insignia on their shoulders.
One of them stepped forward to intercept Noah.
She was a petite girl with short-cut azure hair that brushed her jawline and a silver star-shaped ornant clipped to the right side of her fringe. Her posture was straight, confident—but not unfriendly.
"New student?" she asked, offering a polite smile.
"Yes," Noah nodded. "First year starting today."
"Got it. Welco to Arkesia Academy," she said, bowing slightly. "I’m Lys Everin, second-year and Spirit Specialist. If you head straight down that path, you’ll reach the main hall. You can store your belongings there too. Good luck with the placent trial."
"Thanks. See you around."
He gave a small nod and continued in the direction she had pointed. The paved path wound up a gentle hill, flanked by lush gardens and statues of historical mages, their eyes aglow with embedded magic stones. At the top of the incline stood a grand building—the Great Hall—where hundreds of students were already gathering.
’Lys Everin,’ Noah thought as he made his way across the marble path, eyes skimming over the flowing crowd of students entering the building. ’A girl from a noble family. Blue hair, pretty face. The best Spiritualist in the entire academy—even counting the third-years. And despite all that... she’s the final boss of Act I.’
He stepped into the Grand Hall, still carrying a suitcase in each hand. The ceiling stretched high above, adorned with floating chandeliers and softly glowing glyphs that pulsed in rhythmic patterns. Students were gathering in large numbers—hundreds of them—filling the air with murmurs, nervous laughter, and the occasional spark of mana flickering from an overeager first-tir.
Noah’s eyes scanned the room automatically, noting the exits, the arcane surveillance crystals embedded in the walls, and the raised central platform that could only be for so kind of announcent. He settled into a spot near the left side of the hall, placing his bags down with a sigh.
The double doors to the grand hall slamd shut behind them with a loud, resonating thud. A ripple of startled murmurs swept through the sea of first-year students—over four hundred in total.
Then, darkness.
The ornate crystal lights adorning the high ceiling blinked out all at once, leaving only a brief hush and the sound of shuffling feet.
And then ca the magic.
Ribbons of fire and lightning danced in spirals above their heads, entwining like serpents. Waves of water curved through the air in perfect arcs, refracting fragnts of shadow. The elents didn’t clash—they harmonized. It was controlled chaos, and at its heart, floated a man.
The Headmaster.
Noah watched closely. ’So that’s him...’
He was older than he looked—late forties, maybe—but moved with the energy of soone in his pri. His robe shimred with faint magical runes, and from the power radiating off him, it wasn’t hard to guess his affinities.
Fire, Aqua, Lightning, and Shadow. Four-elental affinity. A genius among geniuses.
With a grand gesture, the elents spiraled into a final burst of color before fading into glowing motes.
So students began floating inches above the floor without warning. Gasps echoed. Noah blinked, steady on his feet. It wasn’t the headmaster doing this anymore.
No—it was soone else.
A new presence glided into view.
Professor Trinity stood tall and composed at the center of the platform. She was a striking woman, standing around 1.76 ters, with a commanding yet graceful presence. Her chestnut brown hair was tied into a neat, high ponytail, a few loose strands framing her calm features. Her eyes, deep brown and observant, scanned the crowd of new students with a quiet authority—warm, but impossible to read fully.
She wore a fitted academy coat marked with silver embroidery and the emblem of Enchanter Faculty, flowing lightly behind her as she floated just above the ground using subtle gravitational magic. Unlike the headmaster’s explosive flair, Trinity embodied control. She didn’t need theatrics—her mana spoke for her.
Despite her reserved aura, everyone could feel it: this woman wasn’t soone to cross lightly. A Singular Enchanter, a master of Gravity Magic, and one of the academy’s most respected figures.
The Headmaster’s booming laughter echoed one last ti.
"Welco, new students, to Arkesia Academy—where your dreams and every impossible idea you’ve ever had... can beco real. Surprised by just this? You haven’t seen anything yet!"
Then he vanished in a swirl of shadows and sparks, leaving only silence.
Professor Trinity let out a quiet sigh.
"Welco," she said with a voice clear and level, cutting cleanly through the stunned crowd. "I hope the headmaster didn’t go too far. If you’re all still grounded, we can begin."
A few chuckles broke out nervously.
"I’ll be conducting the first-year orientation," she continued. "You may or may not have been told, depending on how... trustworthy your sources were. Each year begins with a placent test. You’ll be ranked from Class 10 to Class 1, with Class 1 being the most prestigious."
She clapped her hands once.
The grand doors opened again. Around eighty upperclassn entered in uniform formation, each of them carrying naplates and storage boxes.
"You may leave your equipnt with them. Afterward, follow ."
Noah glanced around. Students were already moving to deposit their gear. He shifted his weight and tightened his grip on the black sheath of Kagetsu, then placed it carefully next to his two worn travel bags.
Only one thing remained on him—his bronzed pocketwatch, ticking faintly against his chest.
He didn’t let that go.
’Here we are again. For the thousandth ti. Second ti in person, though.’
Noah exhaled through his nose, adjusting the collar of his jacket as the crowd ca to a halt.
’Last ti, I got wrecked... but now? Now I know how to fight. Hehehe. I’m getting into Class 1 this ti, no question.’
The atrium was enormous—ten ters high with smooth, enchanted walls, and wide enough to fit hundreds of people comfortably. All around its circular walls, dozens of identical arched doors began to glow with faint blue light. From above, a spell matrix humd to life, connecting them all to the Academy’s illusion system.
Professor Trinity rose gently above the ground, arms crossed neatly behind her back. Her voice echoed throughout the chamber.
"Here we are," she announced. "This is the Trial Atrium. Each of you will enter your own trial room. Inside, you’ll face challenges designed to test your skill, creativity, and composure. Your performance will determine your class placent."
She paused, then added with a sly smile:
"So yes, you are technically competing. Good luck."
A ripple of murmurs passed through the crowd.
"Don’t overthink it," she continued. "Just let the trial see who you are. And one more thing—your results are final. No appeals."
The tension tightened. Noah smirked slightly at the way so students shuffled anxiously.
"Find an unoccupied chamber," Trinity finished. "Once you step inside, your na will appear above the door—don’t worry, we’ll know who went where."
Noah scanned the doors quickly until one caught his eye: a glowing plaque just beginning to cycle through numbers.
’Let’s go with Room 17. My lucky number.’
With a steady pace, he made his way toward the door.
’Ti to show them what I’m made of.’
The door creaked open with a soft hum as his hand touched the handle. He stepped through—and behind him, the na Noah Thorne illuminated above the arch in clear, bold letters.
The test had begun.
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