All new students were called to the colloseum in the nearby area and we had no time to spend on blaming Ryn , well not that it really mattered, to me.
The colosseum was a sight to behold, an architectural wonder that screamed excess. It was massive—larger than any stadium or arena I'd ever seen in my past life.
The walls weren't just tall; they seemed to stretch endlessly, tapering off into the horizon.
They shimmered in the sunlight, a mixture of obsidian-black and glowing crystal, as if the structure was part fortress, part giant disco ball.
The floor of the arena was something else entirely.
Made from polished mana crystals, it looked like an ice rink but pulsed faintly with magical energy.
It was so reflective that I could see my own face staring back at me, warped slightly by the curved surface.
Above us, the stands floated—not just hovered, but floated—in a bizarre, gravity-defying spiral.
Each tier was connected by thin, glowing bridges that vanished the moment you crossed them.
I assumed they were some kind of magical construct, but honestly, they looked like something out of a fever dream.
"Oh, great," Ryn muttered beside me, craning his neck to take it all in. "Now I feel even smaller than usual."
"Don't worry," I said, clapping him on the back. "You've always been small, Ryn."
"Thanks for the encouragement, Venzel," he replied dryly. "Really boosts my confidence."
Thad, standing stoically as usual, chuckled. "You'll be fine, Ryn. Just don't try to impress any girls this time."
"That was one time!" Ryn protested, throwing his hands up.
"Three times, actually," Thad corrected, his voice calm but with just enough bite to make Ryn scowl.
"Let's focus on the test," Lena cut in, her tone all business. "We don't know what kind of opponents we'll be facing."
Serra, however, looked more relaxed than any of us. She was casually twirling a strand of her hair, her other hand resting on her hip. "Relax, Lena. This is just a preliminary test. It's not like they're throwing dragons at us."
"You don't know that," I said, grinning. "This city is crazy enough to do it. Maybe they've got a few dragon statues lying around with real hearts inside, ready to come to life."
"Ha-ha," Serra replied, rolling her eyes. "Very funny."
"I wasn't joking," I muttered under my breath.
---
As we waited for the test to start, a booming voice echoed across the colosseum.
"Welcome, students, to the first trial of the Academy of Heart!"
All heads turned toward the center of the arena, where a floating platform descended from the sky. On it stood a man who looked like he could bench-press a mountain. His armor was made of obsidian and gold, and his sword—because, of course, he had a sword—was nearly as tall as he was.
"That's Markus Titanbreaker," Lena whispered. "He's the Head of Combat Studies."
"Is that his actual name?" I asked, incredulous.
"Yes."
"Well, someone's compensating for something," I muttered, earning a sharp elbow from Lena.
Markus raised his arms, silencing the murmurs. "This trial will determine your initial rankings in the academy. It is not a mere test of strength but of strategy, magic, and adaptability. Remember, in this academy, even the smallest spark can ignite a great flame."
"That's poetic," Ryn whispered. "Do you think he practices that in front of a mirror?"
"If he does, he probably uses that sword as a microphone," I replied, stifling a laugh.
Markus continued, oblivious to our commentary. "Your matches will be one-on-one duels, assigned based on your room numbers. The rules are simple: defeat your opponent by any means necessary, short of lethal force."
"Lethal force?" Serra muttered, raising an eyebrow. "Why do they even need to specify that?"
"Because someone's definitely going to try," I replied.
---
Our group's matchups were posted on a giant holographic board floating above the arena.
"Venzel versus… Renaldo Vexar?" I read aloud.
"Who's that?" Thad asked.
I shrugged. "No idea. But with a name like that, he probably spends his free time twirling a mustache and tying people to train tracks."
"You're impossible," Lena said, pinching the bridge of her nose.
The others checked their matchups, and as luck would have it, Ryn was paired with someone named Mira Lightsong.
"Lightsong?" Ryn exclaimed, his face lighting up. "That sounds like a princess's name. Maybe she's cute!"
"Focus, Ryn," Lena snapped. "This is a test, not a dating opportunity."
"Easy for you to say," Ryn muttered. "You're not the one fighting someone who sounds like they walked out of a fairy tale."
Serra's matchup was against a girl named Aria Stormshield, while Thad was paired with someone called Garth Boulderbane.
"These names," I said, shaking my head. "It's like they were generated by some kind of fantasy name generator."
"Venzel," Lena said sharply, "you should be preparing for your match, not critiquing names."
"Yes, Mom," I replied with a mock salute.
---
The first round began with a deafening gong, and students were called to their respective arenas within the colosseum.
When my name was announced, I took a deep breath and stepped onto the platform. My opponent, Renaldo Vexar, was already there, his arms crossed and a smug grin plastered on his face.
"Well, well," he drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. "A noble brat, huh? This should be fun."
"Oh, you have no idea," I replied, my tone equally smug.
The match began with a burst of magic, Renaldo launching fireballs like a living flamethrower. I dodged the first two, then countered with an explosion spell of my own. The force knocked him back, and his smug grin faltered.
"You're not bad," he admitted, wiping soot from his face.
"Thanks," I said, grinning. "You're not great."
Renaldo scowled and charged, but I was ready. With a well-timed explosion, I sent him flying out of bounds, earning a roar of approval from the crowd.
---
After the match, I rejoined my friends, who were waiting in one of the viewing areas.
"Nice work, Venzel," Thad said, nodding approvingly.
"Yeah, you actually looked competent for once," Lena added, though her tone was teasing.
"I aim to please," I replied with a mock bow.
"How was your match, Ryn?" Serra asked, turning to him.
Ryn sighed dramatically. "Mira was cute, but she wiped the floor with me."
"Let me guess," I said, smirking. "You spent more time flirting than fighting?"
Ryn shrugged. "Can you blame me? She had this whole angelic vibe going on."
"Yes, we can blame you," Lena interjected, exasperated.
---
The rest of the matches were nothing short of a circus, a delightful mix of awe-inspiring brilliance and downright comical disasters.
On one hand, you had students summoning intricate magical constructs and wielding power like seasoned adventurers.
On the other hand, there were the unfortunate souls whose spells backfired in spectacular fashion.
One kid accidentally froze his own feet to the ground, while another managed to set his cloak on fire while trying to summon a simple flame.
It was a spectacle, to say the least.
By the time the final match wrapped up, the rankings were posted. My name sat proudly in the top tier with a solid score of 12—four wins, zero draws, zero losses.
A perfect record, not that I was surprised. After all, I'm Venzel: the noble who can make explosions look good.
But before you get too impressed, let me remind you that this was just the first day.
The competition would continue daily for the rest of the week, which meant there were plenty of opportunities for me to mess up—or for others to get lucky.
What surprised me most was my friends' performance.
Aside from Ryn—our group's resident disaster magnet—everyone else also had a perfect score of 12. Lena fought with a precision that made me feel like she was secretly a veteran soldier, while Serra's spells were so elegantly executed that even the judges seemed a little awestruck.
Thad? He was as stoic as ever, taking down opponents with brute force and a touch of finesse. And Ryn… well, Ryn managed to end the day with a score of secen and a black eye. We didn't ask.
What really stood out, though, was the sheer number of students showcasing Grade 1 magic before the academy had even officially started.
That level of skill wasn't unheard of among nobles—most of us were trained from a young age—but seeing commoners pull off such feats was bizarre.
Normally, commoners didn't have access to the resources or training required to master magic at such a level.
You see, the usual path for commoners was simple but brutal.
First, they'd focus on physical training, building strength and endurance to survive the harsh realities of life.
Then, if they were lucky—or happened to be unnaturally beautiful—they might catch the attention of a noble family.
That noble would take them under their wing, teach them the basics of magic, and in return, the commoner would pledge lifelong loyalty.
It wasn't exactly a fair system, but it was the way things worked.
Nobles, on the other hand, had no need for such grinding.
Physical training? That was for peasants.
Why bother breaking a sweat when you could blow things up with a flick of your wrist? Take me, for example.
I've spent years perfecting the art of explosions, and yet here I stand, miraculously intact despite the countless near-death experiences.
My father likes to call me a walking hazard, but I prefer the term "innovator."
So, seeing commoners casting Grade 1 spells with ease? It was a bit unsettling.
Either something had changed, or these kids were defying the system entirely.
Part of me wanted to investigate, but a bigger part of me was too busy enjoying the chaos.
As the day wound down, we gathered in the common area to discuss the matches.
Ryn was dramatically reenacting his most embarrassing defeat, complete with exaggerated sound effects and a lot of flailing.
"And then—WHAM!—the guy hits me with a fireball I didn't even see coming!" he exclaimed, clutching his side like he was still in pain.
"Maybe if you'd spent less time flirting and more time dodging, you wouldn't have a bruise," Lena deadpanned, earning a laugh from Serra and me.
"Hey, I was multitasking!" Ryn protested.
"Sure," I said, smirking. "Multitasking your way into a solid seven points and a bruised ego."
Thad, as usual, stayed quiet, though I swore I saw the corner of his mouth twitch in amusement.
"Anyway," I said, steering the conversation back on track, "we've got six more days of this. Let's try not to embarrass ourselves too much, yeah?"
"Speak for yourself," Serra said with a grin. "I plan to win every match."
"Oh, it's on," I replied, grinning back.
As we laughed and joked, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of camaraderie. Sure, the stakes were high, and the competition was fierce, but with these guys by my side, I was ready for anything.
Let the chaos continue.