In the heart of Arcadia, where magic flowed like rivers and dreams soared as high as the city's towers, Kegillu Desmond, the son of Duke Desmond, stood in the courtyard of his family's estate. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, where the first light of dawn painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson.

Today's the day, huh?" Midas, the mage who had taken Kegillu under his wing, said with a wry smile as he approached. "Feeling nervous?" He added.

Kegillu flashed a confident grin, though his heart fluttered with anticipation. "Nervous? Me? Never!" he declared, though a flicker of uncertainty danced in his eyes.

Midas chuckled, patting him on the back. "That's the spirit! Remember, just trust in your abilities and let your magic flow naturally. You've got this."

With a deep breath, Kegillu nodded, his determination renewed. He focused his mind, feeling the familiar surge of arcane energy coursing through his veins. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a cascade of sparks that danced around him in a dazzling display.

"Not bad, kid," Midas remarked, a hint of pride in his voice. "You've come a long way since we first met. Looks like all that hard work is paying off."

Flushed with excitement, Kegillu grinned. "Thanks, Midas. I couldn't have done it without your guidance."

 As the sun rose higher in the sky, casting its warm glow over the courtyard, Kegillu's training session came to an end. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his heart pounding with exhilaration. Today marked the beginning of a new chapter in his life, and he was more than ready to seize the opportunity.

Later that evening, as the Desmond family gathered around the dinner table, Kegillu could hardly contain his excitement. He regaled them with tales of his training session, his words tumbling out in a rush of enthusiasm.

 "I did it, Dad, Mom! I've been selected to represent our family at the scholar institution selection," he exclaimed, his eyes shining with pride. "And not only that, I've been promoted to the rank of Magic Saint! My mana levels have reached 800,000!"

His parents exchanged a proud glance, their smiles warm and affectionate. "Congratulations," Duke Desmond said, his voice filled with pride. "You've worked hard for this moment, and you've earned it."

Kegillu beamed, basking in the warmth of his family's praise. For the first time in a long while, he felt truly confident in his abilities, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Meanwhile, in a quiet corner of the city, Levanch sat alone in his small, dimly lit room, poring over the latest issue of the Arcadia Gazette. His eyes scanned the page, lingering on an article about the upcoming scholar institution selection.

A flicker of determination sparked in Levanch's eyes as he read the article. "So, the scholar institution selection is finally here," he murmured to himself, his voice soft but resolute. "I need to find a friend to travel with me to the Massere Kingdom."

The Massere Kingdom was far away, about 350 miles from the capital city of Arcadia. It was also much bigger, it's medieval buildings and steampunk architecture becoming the hidden gem of the entire city. 

With that thought weighing heavily on his mind, Levanch folded the newspaper and tucked it away, his heart set on the path that lay ahead. Little did he know, his destiny was about to collide with that of a certain Duke's son, setting into motion a rather exciting but peculiar series of events.