All the students were gathered in the Mana and Aura Check-In room, two weeks before the promotion exam, for their final Mana and Aura core capacity evaluation. The room was filled with palpable tension, a mixture of excitement and anxiety as every student, having spent countless hours sharpening their skills, stood at the precipice of their destiny. They could feel the moment's weight in the air, thick with anticipation.
Professor Leo marched into the room, carrying a stack of files containing each student's evaluation result in his right arm. His presence was commanding, and with every step it took, the room seemed to quiet itself in respectful attention. He stood before them, his gaze sharp as that of a hawk: "Hello, class," he greeted; his voice crisp sliced through the murmurs like a blade.
"Hello sir," the students chorused, their voices a collective murmur that quickly faded into an anxious hush, as if a switch had been flipped.
"I don't have much to say since you are all familiar with the process and how important today is," Professor Leo said, his tone continued steady and well-measured. He moved closer toward the circle of stones; it was as if every step he took echoed in the tense silence. "Let's waste not much of our time and begin the evaluation," he declared, adjusting the files in his right hand, his fingers brushing over them as if weighing the fate of each of the students there.
"Hunter Leif. Step forward." He lifted his head from the file halfway, his eyes sharp, and gave the order with the clarity of an experienced instructor.
Hunter stepped forward, his heart pounding in his chest, with weight upon weight of this moment. He moved toward the circle on the stone floor, his hand reaching out to place it on the surface, trembling slightly.
The sigil pulsed to life, its light blazing brighter by the second, illuminating the air around them. Above the sigil, the numbers began to materialize like stars in the night sky. "6,050 units, Mage Expert. Alright, back to position," Professor Leo said with a nod, his voice free of any superfluous flair.
He nodded to Hunter, his face an mask of concentration, and returned to his spot with the same composure that had carried him thus far.
"Next, Mark Fist." Professor Leo's voice was clear, unwavering. Mark stepped forward, his muscles tensing as the weight of his impending evaluation settled on him. He approached the stone circle, placing his hand on it with an almost reverent caution. The sigil lit up, the numbers appearing to be etched by some unseen hand. "6,000 units, Mage Expert. You can return," Professor Leo announced, his tone matter-of-fact.
"Victoria Luthor." Professor Leo called, his gaze never wavering from the file. Victoria stepped forward, her movements calm but resolute. She placed her hand on the sigil; it hummed to life, glowing with intensity equal to her determination. "6,000 units, Mage Expert. You can return," Professor Leo repeated, voice unyielding as always.
"Ronan Smith. Your turn." The name rolled off Professor Leo's tongue, drawing the room's attention to the next student in line. Ronan, his chest swelling with anticipation, strode forward confidently. As his hand touched the stone circle, the eerie crack that had once marked his entrance into the academy reared its head once more. The sigil cracked audibly, like the sound of breaking glass, and the room fell silent, each student holding their breath.
The stone circle, usually so calm, was now acting contrarily-suddenly turning erratic and unpredictable. Professor Leo nonchalantly readjusted his standing and said, "6,000 units, Mage Expert on hold." His voice sounded loudly within the room, but beneath it lay an unsaid current-an unnerving one.
Ronan turned back to his seat, his eyes sweeping the room, knowing full well his actions had elicited more than a murmur among his peers. Victoria, Hunter, and others exchanged looks with wide-eyed expressions, their minds reeling with questions.
*****
Meanwhile, somewhere between Thralia - Northeast Continent and Vas'tarim - Central Continent.
Xena, in her dragon form, flew in the sky, her wings delicately yet powerfully cutting across the air, a creature born out of fire and legend. The ocean below stretched to infinity, yet its vastness was nothing compared with her existence. A few kilometres away from Vas'tarim, she did so with a lot of purpose as her eyes, on fire, scanned the horizon for any sign of danger.
Hundreds of birds, darkly feathered, materialised out of nowhere. Black beating wings hurled the birds toward Xena with blinding speed. Their feathers glimmered like deadly arrows as the wind seemed to bend around them and tear through the sky. They attacked instantly, launching razor-sharp feathers towards Xena, each feather tainted with Crimsonbane, capable of tearing through flesh and bone.
But Xena, with living fortress scales, simply watched the feathers bounce harmlessly off her, and a deeper breath brought the power within her together. With a fierce growl, she released her signature attack: "Flame Dragon Breath: Garnet Pyre ." The intensity of the fire she unleashed vibrated in her voice as she intoned, "6 circle.".
A stream of fire, hot enough to melt steel, burst from her mouth and burned the birds that came into contact with it. The stream was weak, however-as every feather of theirs had turned into a flame retardant, making the fire burn with lesser intensity. Xena breathed again, her breath becoming more labored by the minute. The birds became more relentless in their attack, continuous and growing at an alarming rate.
Xena, in her human form, stood amidst the chaos, her body exhausted from the endless battle. Her breathing was in shallow gasps as she looked upon this new threat. A man, his black coat billowing in the wind, appeared atop a large bird-this one with a bright red comb upon its head. The man held a black flute no longer than 34 cm in length and wore an arrogant grin as he spoke to her.
"Greetings, Vas'tarim guardian," he said with a flourish, bowing theatrically, his right hand placed against his chest. There was an arrogance dripping in his tone.
"Who are you, and why do you attack me?" Xena growled, her patience really tried. "I don't believe our paths have ever crossed."
He smirked, not reacting in the least to her ire. "Miss, you are far too impatient. So many questions at once," he teased, oozing condescension in his tone.
"Alright," he continued, "let me introduce myself properly. My name is UCRE50-2, but my name is Kelvin."
(UCRE stands for Unique Crimson Rot Experiment. The 50 shows the extent of Crimsonbane that he can control, and the 2 marks rank among others in the UCRE category.)
"I am on a mission to bring your lordship back, by force if necessary." He raised the flute to his lips, his action all but casual, yet heavy as the threat implicit in it.
He blew into the flute, and the birds in the vicinity responded with mechanical precision, grouping together in a circle around Xena. She readied her stance, her body coiling in anticipation. The music changed tone to an aggressive timbre, and suddenly the birds detonated all at once, their bodies bursting into an airborne deadly cloud of crimsonbane.
Xena reeled, coughing as the noxious cloud enveloped her, stinging her eyes. She could feel the bloodbane seeping into her system, the familiar burn of the poison beginning to take hold. But she had learned much since her time with Drake: the old Xena, who would have fought head-on with reckless abandon, was gone. In her place stood a strategist, one who knew when to fight and when to retreat.
Drawing on the power of her newly formed mana ring, she took a deep breath and intoned, "Flame Dragon Breath: Bloodfire Surge (7 circle)." A crimson mana circle materialized before her, its glow pulsating with promises of destruction. She unleashed a torrent of flaming energy that didn't just burn with the intensity of her flames but siphoned life energy out of everything it touched. Blood dripped from her lips as the bloodbane took hold.
Kelvin, momentarily caught in the overwhelming power of her attack, quickly called in the remaining birds to shield against the inferno. But Xena saw her chance, and with a wild cry, she broke through the barrier, in a swift retreat toward the Vas'tarim continent.
***
Inside the academy, in the Mana and Aura Check-In room, the mood remained tense: students were quietly talking to each other, and nobody was feeling at ease. Professor Leo stood at the head of the room, his piercing eyes on the next student.
" Griffin Dominic, next," he called. Griffin strode out with silent self-assurance. He reached the stone circle and laid his hand over the sigil; it flared into life and lit up the numbers above. " 6,000 units, Mage Expert. You may return, " Professor Leo announced. His tone was composed, but even then, firm.
Griffin nodded, expression unchanging, and moved back to his position, his gaze meandering around the room as the evaluation went on, each student inching closer to their moment of truth.