The Academy's Grand Arena is a colossal, circular coliseum constructed from polished white stone, the structure's grand arches and reinforced pillars are adorned with intricate mystical runes that shimmer faintly under the sun.
When Austin entered, he noticed a lone student already present, sitting quietly on one of the Arena's edges. The student offered no greeting, her gaze fixed somewhere in the arena.
Austin chose a spot far enough to avoid attention but close enough to observe the entrance. The sheer scale of the Arena made him feel small, a sensation he couldn't decide was humbling or unnerving.
The battlefield at its center is a vast, open space with a smooth yet durable floor of enchanted obsidian, designed to withstand even the most powerful mystical arts. The seating tiers rise steeply, carved from the same sturdy stone, their surfaces worn smooth by generations of spectators. Clear crystal inlays trace along the edges of stairways and balconies, reflecting light with a subtle gleam.
High above the highest balcony, five banners ripple despite the absence of wind. The center displayed the academy's crest while Austin noticed the crest of the Valdoris Archeon in one of the smaller four banners.
The Valdoris Archeon's crest, displayed proudly on their deep crimson banner with gold accents, features a Nemean Lion in a commanding stance. The lion, depicted in intricate yellow embroidery, has a flowing mane and piercing eyes.
A few moments later, a man entered, his footsteps echoing sharply against the marble. He was an older figure, with a round face and a ruddy complexion, his shorter white beard framing a constant, jolly smile. His robes, deep apricot and adorned with bronze accents, swayed with his energetic stride. He clapped his hands together, his voice booming with warmth and enthusiasm.
"Well, well, well! It seems we have some eager young minds here already!" He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with genuine delight. "I'm Professor Klaus Fuchs, and I'll be overseeing this year's Mystical Staff Succession. But first let us come closer together in this side of the arena as we wait for the rest of your peers to arrive. Patience is a virtue, after all!"
The students who just arrived exchanged puzzled glances while following the Professor's instructions.
One of them, unable to hold back, asked, "If we're waiting for the others, why were we sent here so early?"
Professor Fuchs only responded with a warm, knowing smile. "Ah, questions already! A good sign. But trust me, everything will make sense in time. For now, consider this your first task—sometimes, it's not about the answers you seek but the patience you cultivate."
Though his words didn't entirely satisfy the students, his cheerful demeanor made it hard to press further.
The atmosphere in one corner of the arena was tense yet quiet as the group settled into an uneasy silence, with students either sitting or pacing. The anticipation of the Staff Succession ceremony weighed heavily on them as they waited.
Professor Fuchs, ever the jovial figure, strolled around, casually engaging in light-hearted conversations to ease the tension. His laughter echoed through the grand space as he complimented one student on their posture and teased another about their nervous tapping.
When he approached Austin, however, his demeanor shifted subtly. Lowering his voice, he leaned close, his cheerful expression replaced with something more serious.
"I can see that you are doing well in your mana supression."
"You taught me well, Master."
A pause hung between them before the professor's eyes blinked unhurriedly.
"Release your mana for a brief moment, boy," he whispered, his tone firm but measured.
Austin blinked, taken aback. "What? But you told me to never reveal my true mana output even if I'm sure that my opponent cannot sense my mana, didn't you?"
The professor nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I know what I said, but just trust me on this. Just do it now."
Austin hesitated, his gaze flickering around the arena, but the professor's request carried a weight that made refusal seem unwise. After a moment of internal debate, he nodded. "Alright."
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and allowed a brief pulse of mana to escape his control. It was fleeting—like a ripple in a still pond—but its impact was immediate.
Professor Fuchs staggered slightly, gripping the back of a nearby bench as his face paled. He blinked rapidly, swallowing hard as though fighting off a wave of nausea. "Good heavens," he murmured under his breath, his jovial facade momentarily cracking.
Unluckily, a student sitting nearby suddenly doubled over, her face contorting as she clutched her stomach. Then, to her surprise, she vomited, shaking her head and looking around in confusion, voice breaking into a startled groan as she vomited again in pain that echoed throughout the arena.
Upon closer inspection, Austin noticed that it was the same girl who arrived before anyone else.
Chaos ensued. Students turned to her in shock, some rising from their seats, while others murmured nervously. The other students exchanged glances, whispering among themselves.
Red-faced and trembling, the girl wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, glancing briefly at Austin before looking down at the ground. "I—I don't know what happened," she stammered, her voice shaking, visibly embarrassed and confused.
Professor Fuchs quickly stepped forward, his cheerful mask firmly back in place. "Ah, no need to worry, my dear," he said warmly, gesturing for her to sit. "The stress of the examination must have caught up with you. Perfectly normal! These tests can be... taxing." He smiled at her innocently.
The girl narrowed her eyes that looked like a slit of suspicion at first but was actually a squint to adjust her vision. She nodded hesitantly, her now wide eyes darting between the professor and the other students. "I suppose that makes sense," she said, though doubt lingered in her voice.
Across the arena's corner, other students whispered among themselves. Some scoffed at the idea of stress being the cause. "Stress? The exam questions were easy," one noble muttered with a smirk.
"Easy for you, maybe," another replied.
"You do realize the exams adapt to the student's level, right? The harder the questions, the more capable they are," someone retorted.
"Is that true?"
"It's not."
Those who understood the adaptive nature of the test exchanged knowing glances but remained silent, unwilling to engage in unnecessary debates.
Austin, meanwhile, kept his head low, his thoughts racing. He couldn't shake the feeling that his brief release of mana had caused the commotion.
The professor, now back to his jovial self, shot him a quick, knowing glance before returning to his circuit around the arena, leaving Austin to wrestle with the implications of what had just happened.
The space grew livelier with each passing moment. At first, it was quiet, save for the hushed whispers of the early arrivals.
Lucian's entrance added a spark of energy, his eager steps echoing across the grand hall as he scanned the waiting area. Spotting Austin, his face lit up with a delighted grin, and he jogged toward him.
Austin instinctively considered hiding but quickly dismissed the thought, closing his eyes in resignation. When he reopened them, Lucian stood before him, catching his breath.
"I was worried," Lucian said, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I felt this sharp vibe coming from the Arena earlier. I thought someone might be fighting."
Austin's eyes widened briefly before shaking his head, his voice calm. "It's probably just your imagination, Lucian. Yesterday's events must still be on your mind."
Lucian blinked before nodding, his expression shifting to relief. "You're probably right." He beamed, his carefree demeanor returning with ease.
As waves of students, each with their own distinct personalities, arrived throughout the hour, the atmosphere grew livelier.
Some strolled in with confidence, exchanging pleasantries with their peers, laughing loudly, forming clusters as they swapped stories. Some leaned casually against walls, arms crossed, exuding an air of superiority. Their postures were straight, their voices loud, as if to assert their dominance over the space.
Others looked uneasy, clutching their clothes or fidgeting as they scanned the crowd. A few huddled in corners or paced along the edges of the room, their faces pale with tension. One boy bit his nails furiously, while another adjusted his glasses repeatedly, muttering under his breath as if reciting notes.
Some curious observers like Austin himself, sat quietly, their eyes darting around, observing the interactions between their peers. They seemed neither intimidated nor boastful, simply taking everything in with quiet calculation.
A handful of eager beaver students sat rigidly upright, their hands gripping the edges of their seats. Their eyes sparkled with anticipation, and some even exchanged enthusiastic whispers about what the Staff Succession might entail.
Then we have the detached few who sat apart from the others, their faces emotionless, as if uninterested in the proceedings. One girl even pulled out a book and began reading, seemingly oblivious to the growing noise around her.
Amidst the growing crowd, Austin was greeted by a boy with neatly combed hair and an air of composed politeness. "Meet me after everything is over," the boy said curtly, barely pausing before walking past.
"Who was that?" Lucian asked, tilting his head as he watched the boy vanish into the throng.
"Egbert," Austin replied nonchalantly. "He's my brother."
Lucian's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? You don't look like brothers. I mean, you guys seems close, but not… physically alike."
Austin smirked faintly, but his response was neutral. "That's just how we are."
Lucian's tone grew softer, a trace of sadness slipping in. "I see…" But just as quickly, his mood rebounded, and his cheerful energy returned. "Well, that's nice!"
The chatter ebbed and flowed, rising to crescendos of laughter or exclamations before quieting as new students trickled in.
Occasionally, the professor would pass through the growing groups, giving the students a quick glance before moving on, his presence momentarily silencing each cliques of students.
Austin thought that he hadn't done anything to draw attention except from the duel yesterday. He was simply waiting there like everyone else. But that didn't stop the growing crowd of students—mostly girls and a few confident boys—from gravitating toward him, their eyes shining with curiosity and excitement.
"Are you really 'that' Austin? The one who ranked first in the Entrance Exams?" one girl asked, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm.
"I heard you even held your own against Aidan!" another added, leaning in slightly.
Austin blinked. He wasn't used to this kind of attention. He was quickly becoming someone that others whispered about.
"Uh… yeah, I guess," he replied, scratching the back of his neck, his tone casual but polite.
That only encouraged them.
"So, what kind of art do you specialize in?"
"Do you have a private mentor yet?"
"Where are you from?"
The questions came from every direction. A few male students had joined in—not necessarily to fawn over him, but to gauge the competition. Some were sizing him up, their gazes sharp with silent rivalry. Others stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching with thinly veiled irritation.
"Tch. What's so special about him?" one second-year muttered under his breath.
"Probably just got lucky in the Entrance Exams," another scoffed.
Austin could feel their stares—some filled with admiration, others with jealousy—but he didn't let it bother him. He wasn't sure when this kind of attention would fade, but he was certain it wouldn't last long, especially if they saw something uncharacteristic of him.
By the time the last student arrived, the area buzzed with a chaotic energy. Conversations overlapped, and a faint tension hung in the air as everyone waited for the next phase to begin.
Just as another student was about to ask another question to Austin, Professor Fuchs, signaled the start of the Staff Succession. The sudden shift in focus gave Austin the perfect opportunity to slip away.
This is going to be a long day, he thought and exhaled quietly, grateful for the distraction.