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The morning sun rose over the horizon, casting a pale gold hue across the towering spires of Deviants Academy.
Lyrium adjusted the high-collared jacket of his uniform as he stepped through the cobblestone streets leading to the academy gates.
His expression was calm, but beneath the surface, his thoughts churned.
The lightning crystal he'd absorbed the night before still crackled faintly in his veins.
Every now and then, a spark of blue energy flickered along his fingertips, barely perceptible but impossible to suppress entirely.
It wasn't just power—it was a declaration. Lyrium no longer stood at the mercy of his singular affinity.
With the lightning crystal fused into his mana core, he had leveled the playing field.
And that was important, especially today.
Ahead of him, the gates of Deviants Academy stretched wide, their iron bars engraved with runes that shimmered faintly in the light.
Beyond them, the courtyard buzzed with life. Hundreds of students gathered in their ceremonial uniforms, their expressions a mix of nervous excitement and steely determination.
Lyrium scanned the crowd carefully, his gaze settling on one figure standing near the center.
Silas Kingslay.
The original protagonist of the novel. And.
Besides him was a lady... One of the Female Leads... Lily Broom.
Her beauty was undeniable
'For real Everyone looks like a goddess'
Lyrium's jaw tightened. Silas was tall and confident, his presence commanding attention without even trying.
His Red hair caught the sunlight, and his sharp green eyes surveyed the crowd with the casual ease of someone who already knew they belonged at the top.
Lyrium knew better than anyone just how powerful Silas would become.
In the novel, Silas was the chosen one, the golden hero destined to rise above all others.
He was everything Lyrium wasn't—charismatic, beloved, and practically brimming with untapped potential.
But this wasn't Silas's story anymore.
Not entirely.
Lyrium took a deep breath and stepped through the gates, blending into the crowd.
He wasn't here to compete with Silas.
He had no delusions of stealing the spotlight or rewriting the script entirely. His only goal was survival.
The crowd began to quiet as the sound of a bell echoed across the courtyard.
All eyes turned toward the grand staircase leading up to the academy's main hall. At the top of the stairs stood a woman cloaked in crimson and gold, her robes flowing around her like liquid fire.
"A Familiar face.....HeadMistress Emily."
Her sharp eyes scanned the students, and when she spoke, her voice carried with it an authority that silenced even the faintest whispers.
"Welcome, initiates," she began. "Today, you stand at the threshold of greatness. Deviants Academy is not a sanctuary for the weak. It is a crucible—a forge that will test your strength, your resolve, and your worth. Those who falter will be cast aside. Those who rise will shape the future of this world."
Lyrium listened intently, his face unreadable. He'd read these words before, but hearing them now, in person, carried a weight that the pages of the novel could never fully capture.
"Your first trial begins now," Kaelira continued, gesturing toward the towering crystal obelisk at the center of the courtyard.
It shimmered with an inner light, its surface etched with runes that pulsed faintly. "Step forward when your name is called. The obelisk will judge you."
Lyrium's gaze flicked toward the obelisk.
This was the part he had been waiting for. The obelisk wasn't just a tool for measurement—it was a gatekeeper.
It would analyze each initiate's mana affinity, potential, and resolve, and then manifest a test tailored to their unique strengths and weaknesses.
One by one, names were called, and students stepped forward. Most managed to pass with varying degrees of success, their trials manifesting in the form of glowing projections that tested their combat ability, strategy, or raw endurance.
Then, the name Lyrium had been expecting rang out across the courtyard.
"Silas Kingslay."
The crowd stirred as Silas stepped forward, his movements confident but not arrogant. Whispers rippled through the students, their excitement palpable.
"Who's He?"
"I don't know. I don't know which family does that surname belongs to?"
Lyrium folded his arms, watching closely as Silas approached the obelisk. When Silas placed his hand against its surface, the reaction was immediate.
The obelisk flared to life, a brilliant burst of golden light erupting from its core.
The energy surged outward, casting long shadows across the courtyard as Silas stood unmoving, his expression calm.
The light shifted, forming into a projection—a colossal thunderstorm that swirled above him.
Bolts of lightning struck the ground around him in rapid succession, each one more violent than the last.
Silas moved with precision, his body a blur as he dodged the strikes and retaliated with arcs of lightning that split the air.
His power was undeniable, his control over the element flawless.
The trial lasted only a few minutes, but by the end, there was no doubt in anyone's mind. Silas Kingslay was a force to be reckoned with.
As the light of the obelisk dimmed, Emily nodded approvingly. "Well done, Silas Kingslay. Step back."
Silas returned to the crowd, his expression composed but unmistakably proud.
Lyrium clenched his fists, the sparks at his fingertips intensifying for a brief moment.
He wasn't jealous—at least, that's what he told himself.
But watching Silas's flawless performance served as a harsh reminder of how far he still had to go.
"Lyrium Blackwood."
The sound of his name snapped him out of his thoughts. The crowd's murmurs quieted as he stepped forward, his boots clicking softly against the polished stone.
"Isn't he from the Blackwood family, in Eldodria?"
"Right.....Unlike his sister, I heard he is weak"
Lyrium could hear the faint murmurs of the students but decided to ignore and just walk passed them.
He reached the obelisk and placed his hand against its surface. The reaction was immediate and violent.
A surge of blue energy erupted from the obelisk, crackling and sparking as the lightning within him clashed against its probing touch.
The air around him seemed to thrum with power, and for a moment, the obelisk itself seemed to hesitate, as though unsure of how to process him.
The light shifted, coalescing into a trial—a swirling vortex of storms that mirrored Silas's trial but was darker, more chaotic.
The lightning was wild, untamed, and it came at him in unpredictable arcs that seemed designed to catch him off guard.
Lyrium's movements were sharp and calculated as he dodged and deflected the strikes, his own lightning roaring to life in response.
But where Silas's trial had been a showcase of control, Lyrium's was a battle for survival.
The vortex closed in on him, the energy growing denser, more oppressive.
'I hate this damn it !'
Lyrium gritted his teeth, summoning every ounce of strength he had as he unleashed a final, explosive burst of lightning.
The vortex shattered, the energy dispersing into the air as the obelisk dimmed once more.
For a moment, there was silence. Then, faint whispers began to ripple through the crowd.
"What was that?"
"That wasn't normal…"
Emily's expression was unreadable as she studied him. Finally, she nodded. "Step back, Lyrium Blackwood."
Lyrium returned to the crowd, his breathing steady despite the faint ache in his muscles. He could feel their eyes on him, the weight of their curiosity and judgment. But he didn't care.
He had survived.
For now, that was enough.
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