The grand examination hall, a massive structure with towering sculptures hanging over the two of them, seemed to be an imposing structure. The hall was buzzing with thousands of anxious candidates in their finest robes, seeking to prove themselves. There was anticipation in the air; and a low hum of magic.
The entrance into the hall reminded Henry and Lukas of an ancient coliseum complete with huge stone pillars that supported the arched entrance. The stone had runes on it which glowed dimly as if they were alive with power. Inside, there was a large circular floor surrounded by steps where people sat waiting for something to happen.
Henry felt intense fear when he saw all this. "It's too much," he said quietly to Lukas
"Don't let it get to you. You'll do just fine," Lukas replied calmly amidst all the anxieties around him.
As they moved deeper into the hall, a voice suddenly cut through the noise. "What's a lowlife scum doing in here?" The voice echoed throughout the hall as a boy with fiery red hair approached the duo. He was clad in a full body set of magical armor, his imposing presence marked by a confident stride. Standing at 5'9", he exuded an aura of arrogance.
Lukas met the boy's gaze with an unfazed expression. "And how do you know the difference between a lowlife and a filthy noble like you?" he said, his calm demeanor indicating the boy wasn't worth his time.
"Me? Filthy? If you don't know your place, I'm afraid I'll have to beat it into you, y'know," the red-haired boy spat back.
"Well, I can't wait to see you try," Lukas replied, his hands casually in his pockets.
"ARRRGH!! Today I'll teach you to respect a noble, you lowlife!" The boy's face contorted in anger as whispers spread through the hall.
"Who the hell is the dude in the magic armor? Did he just call an Arcadian a lowlife?" murmurs echoed around the hall.
"ENOUGH!" A loud voice reverberated through the hall as a man who appeared to be in his late 50s walked to the front of the hall. His presence commanded immediate attention. "As you all know, today is the entrance exam. Today is the day your fate as a mage will be decided. We will begin with the theoretical aspect of the exams."
Suddenly, papers and quills magically appeared in front of each student. The spectators and instructors settled into their seats, their eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"Wow, as expected of an Archmage. Sir Nolan Fiske has always been the best void mage," voices whispered in admiration of the instructor.
"The questions on the papers are to be answered within 40 minutes," Sir Fiske said, his voice carrying an air of authority as he turned to leave the platform.
"Wait a minute, am I supposed to stay in the same hall with a lowlife filth? His smell of wretchedness stinks," the boy with red hair declared loudly, pointing at Lukas
Ignoring the comment, Lukas calmly took his seat, his eyes focused on the task at hand. Henry, still feeling a bit shaken, followed suit and began to read the questions on his paper. The hall fell into a hushed silence as the candidates delved into their tests.
Forty minutes later, Sir Fiske returned, his keen eyes scanning the hall. "Time's up. Quills down." The papers vanished as quickly as they had appeared.
"Now, we will proceed to the practical examination in the Coliseum of Trials," Sir Fiske announced. The ground beneath them rumbled as a section of the floor slid open, revealing a grand staircase leading downwards. The candidates followed the steps into an underground arena even more magnificent than the hall above.
The Coliseum of Trials was a vast circular arena with high walls. The floor was a mix of sand and stone, with various magical obstacles and creatures prepared to test the student's abilities. The spectators' stands were filled with nobles, instructors, and other dignitaries, all watching intently.
"Candidates will be tested on their magical abilities and combat skills through duels," Sir Fiske explained. "Each of you will face an opponent in a one-on-one battle. Those who fail will not receive any magic stones, which boost cultivation speed. Those who win will be awarded these valuable stones."
The crowd buzzed with excitement. Lukas and Henry exchanged a determined glance. They knew the stakes were high.
"First up, we have Ellice Frost," Sir Fiske called out. A stunning young woman with flowing silver hair and icy blue eyes stepped forward. Her presence commanded immediate attention, and whispers of admiration spread through the audience.
She faced her opponent, a burly boy who looked confident but slightly nervous. As the duel began, the Ice Goddess moved with grace and precision, her ice magic creating frosty symbols in the air, Her opponent struggled to keep up, and within moments, he was encased in a prison of ice. The spectators erupted in applause as Sir Fiske declared her the winner.
Next, it was Henry's turn. He stepped into the arena, his heart pounding. Across from him stood Simon Reynold, a lightning mage known for his fierce temper and powerful attacks. Simon smirked, his eyes crackling with electricity.
"Look at you, a lowlife with delusions of grandeur," Simon sneered. "You think you can compete with someone like me?"
Henry ignored the taunt and took a deep breath, drawing his rank A sword. The sight of the gleaming blade caused a ripple of shock and murmurs through the crowd.
"Where did a nobody like you get a weapon like that?" Simon scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "No matter, it won't save you."
"Begin!" Sir Fiske's voice rang out.
Henry summoned his fire magic, flames dancing around his hands. He launched a series of fireballs at Simon, who dodged them, his movements almost a blur. Simon retaliated with a bolt of lightning, striking Henry and sending him sprawling to the ground.
"Get up, Henry!" Lukas shouted from the sidelines.
Gritting his teeth, Henry pushed himself up and renewed his attack. He conjured a wall of fire, hoping to shield himself from Simon's relentless strikes. But Simon was relentless, his lightning strikes overwhelming Henry's fire magic. Despite his best efforts, Henry found himself outmatched.
"You're pathetic," Simon mocked as he launched another bolt of lightning. "You don't belong here."
Henry, determined not to give up, raised his sword just in time to deflect the lightning. The blade glowed brightly, absorbing the magical energy and cutting through the spell. The crowd gasped in amazement, but Simon's expression only darkened with rage.
"Impressive," Simon admitted begrudgingly. "But it's not enough."
With a final surge of lightning, Simon struck Henry with full force. Henry tried to deflect the attack, but the sheer power was too much. He was thrown back, landing hard on the ground. His sword clattered away from his grasp.
"Winner: Simon Reynold!" Sir Fiske announced.
Henry lay on the ground, defeated and exhausted. He struggled to his feet, his body aching from the intense battle. Simon smirked at him before turning away, basking in the applause of the spectators.
As Henry limped back to the sidelines, Lukas approached him, offering a supportive pat on the back. "You did your best, Henry. Don't let this get to you," Lukas said, his voice filled with encouragement.
Henry nodded, still feeling the sting of his defeat but grateful for Lukas's support.
"Next, Lukas!" Sir Fiske called.
Lukas stepped into the arena, his eyes locking onto the red-haired boy who had insulted him earlier. The boy sneered, flames flickering around his hands.
"Ready to be humiliated, scum?" the boy taunted.
"We'll see about that," Lukas replied coolly.
"Begin!" Sir Fiske's voice echoed through the arena.
The red-haired boy wasted no time, launching a barrage of fireballs at Lukas with impressive speed and intensity. Each fireball roared through the air, leaving trails of scorching heat in their wake. But Lukas moved with incredible agility, dodging each attack with ease. His movements were precise and calculated as if he were dancing through the battlefield.
Lukas countered with a powerful blast of ice magic, the frost spreading rapidly and extinguishing the flames. The arena was filled with a swirling mist as the hot air clashed with the cold.
The red-haired boy's eyes widened in shock as Lukas closed the distance between them. With a swift, decisive strike, Lukas summoned a spear of ice, aiming directly at his opponent. The boy barely managed to raise a shield of fire in time, but the sheer force of Lukas's attack shattered it instantly. The ice spear grazed the boy's arm and left a trail of frostbite.
The boy cried out in pain, clutching his injured arm. Desperation flickered in his eyes as he summoned all his remaining strength for one final assault. Flames erupted around him, forming a massive fireball that he hurled at Lukas with all his might.
Lukas stood his ground, his expression unchanging. As the fireball approached, he raised his hand, creating a barrier of ice that absorbed the impact. The flames dissipated against the frosty shield, leaving Lukas unscathed.
With a calm and measured demeanor, Lukas then unleashed his ultimate attack. He conjured a whirlwind of ice shards, directing them towards his opponent with pinpoint accuracy. The red-haired boy had no time to react as the icy projectiles struck him from all sides, immobilizing him and covering him in a layer of frost. "By the way, the name is Lukas De Arcadian," Lukas said calmly to the injured boy. "A...Arcadian?" The boy mumbled as he collapsed.
"Winner: Lukas De Arcadian!" Sir Fiske announced, his voice filled with admiration.
The crowd erupted in applause, impressed by Lukas's skill and composure. Henry managed a weak smile, proud of his friend's victory.
As the practical exams concluded, Sir Fiske addressed the candidates. "You have all shown great potential today. The results will be announced tomorrow. Rest well."
Henry and Lukas exchanged a relieved glance. Despite the challenges, they had both proven their worth. As they left the arena, Lukas placed a reassuring hand on Henry's shoulder. "We did well today. Now, let's get those creampuffs."
Henry chuckled, the tension finally easing. "Yeah, we earned it."