The banners of ElderGlow Academy fluttered gently in the wind as the second day of the Grand Fourfold Trials began. The main coliseum on the academy grounds was buzzing once again, not with curiosity this ti, but with sharpened focus.
Today, it was the Year Two students' turn.
Compared to the wide-eyed and fiery, if sotis clumsy, battles of the Year Ones, the crowd now expected sothing more refined, more tactical.
These students were on the cusp of advancing into the Silver ranks—so were already halfway into High Bronze. Their talent was budding into power, and the atmosphere in the arena felt noticeably heavier.
In the section of elevated seats reserved for the Year Three representatives of ElderGlow, Damon, Anaya, Daveon, and Celeste sat quietly, their expressions far more serious than the previous day.
There was no betting. No wild cheering or mock argunts.
Instead, eyes were sharp. Thoughts turned inward.
"We'll be in their position soon," Daveon muttered, his arms crossed as he scanned the contestants gathering below.
"Less than a day," Anaya added, voice flat. "No room for error when it's our turn."
Celeste narrowed her gaze as she spotted a Thornevale student conjuring ethereal blades to hover in a precise circle around her. "They've been training for this all year. You can tell by their movents."
Damon said nothing. His fingers drumd lightly against the armrest of his seat as his gaze swept over the arena.
Crowgarth's third seat—Verrin. Still relying on brute strength. Wyrre's twins—fluid but defensive. Thornevale's top representative—clever, nimble, and always calculating. ElderGlow's…
He paused on a boy nad Renar, their strongest Year Two participant. Renar was calm, almost unnaturally so. He hadn't spoken once since entering the staging ground, simply flexing his gloved fingers and studying the arena layout.
"He's ready," Damon muttered at last.
Anaya tilted her head. "Think he'll place top three?"
"If he doesn't," Damon said, "we're in trouble."
The sound of a bell echoed across the field.
Master Ilwin, one of the senior instructors at ElderGlow, stepped onto the center platform to address the gathered Year Two participants. The crowd quickly hushed.
"Today, you will face three trials. Each one designed to test a different core strength: precision, resilience, and adaptability," Master Ilwin declared, his voice carrying across the entire coliseum. "Fail one, and your rank suffers. Succeed in all, and you'll earn recognition that will follow you into Year Three—and beyond."
He gestured to the side. A small group of instructors from the four academies stepped forward.
"The first test—Precision of the Mind and Magic. You will enter the crystal maze."
A gate at the far end of the arena opened, revealing a translucent do filled with mirrored walls and shimring, rune-etched floors.
"Inside, you will navigate illusions, traps, and misdirections. You must reach the core crystal at the center within fifteen minutes. Do not break the maze. You will be penalized for brute-forcing your way through."
The students were called in groups of four, with one from each academy per set.
Renar's group was called third.
The maze shimred as they entered. To the audience, a projection was cast high above, giving everyone a live view of the competitors within.
Inside, chaos reigned.
Illusions mimicked allies and enemies. Mists distorted vision. Runes activated illusions that whispered lies, tugging at emotions to throw off ntal clarity. Walls reford subtly when students weren't watching, while pressure traps slowed those who misstepped.
Most students struggled.
One Crowgarth student accidentally attacked his own mirror image and was ejected early for damaging the construct. A Thornevale girl made it to the center but activated a trap in her final step, triggering a blinding light that ejected her seconds before reaching the crystal.
Then ca Renar.
The crowd quieted.
He moved with an eerie calm. Where others ran or hesitated, he walked. He tested illusions with strands of mana, allowing them to dissipate before stepping forward. Once, when a trap activated beneath him, he leapt without looking and landed directly on a shifting wall that was just stabilizing.
Ten minutes in, he reached the center, touched the core, and calmly exited.
Thunderous applause erupted from the ElderGlow section.
Damon exhaled. "Told you."
The test continued for nearly an hour before all Year Two students had cycled through. Rankings were posted on floating boards. Renar held the top spot. A Wyrre girl followed. Thornevale's silent twin took third.
Crowgarth's students were middling so far.
Then, Master Ilwin returned to the center.
"Your second test—Resilience of Body and Spirit."
The arena ground began to shift, runes flaring to life.
Pillars rose from the floor, surrounding a circular platform. Spiked rollers spun slowly outside the boundary, while wind mana surged within, creating gusts strong enough to push back even the sturdiest Bronze-ranked student.
"You will step onto the arena and remain there for three minutes," Master Ilwin continued. "But every thirty seconds, a different type of elental force will strike. Fire. Ice. Wind. Lightning. You must remain standing. Use no protective relics. No external aids. Only your own power."
There were no pairings this ti—only individuals, one at a ti.
A Thornevale student went first, an earth manipulator who shielded himself with a cocoon of hardened soil. He lasted two minutes before the wind and lightning shattered his stance.
Others fared worse.
One Crowgarth girl collapsed in just over a minute when the fire phase drained her stamina too quickly.
But then ca Celeste's pick—Wyrre's twins, or more specifically, the younger of the two. Despite her delicate fra, she layered wind-enhanced footing with frost-coated skin. She absorbed damage through subtle redirections, and even as lightning struck, she gritted her teeth and endured.
Three minutes. Complete.
A small cheer erupted from the Wyrre delegation.
Then, Renar stepped forward.
The crowd hushed again.
Unlike the others, he used no obvious defenses. Instead, his body shimred faintly with a dull, earthy bronze—a defensive mana coat woven deep into his skin. As fire lashed out, he closed his eyes and absorbed it through breathing techniques. Ice froze his legs, but he shattered it with a single flex. Wind pushed him, and he leaned into it, never falling. Lightning struck, and his teeth bared, but he refused to drop.
Three minutes. Just under.
He fell to one knee the mont the trial ended, but he'd completed it.
"Monsters," Daveon muttered.
"He'll be top three again," Anaya agreed.
By the end of the second test, the rankings updated again. Renar remained in first. The Wyrre girl claid second. Thornevale's quiet boy had fallen slightly to fourth.
Only one trial remained.
Damon leaned forward, eyes on the shifting field.
"No one's breaking yet," he said.
"But the third test," Celeste said quietly, "is always the hardest.
Students retreated to their respective sides of the arena, drenched in sweat and panting from exertion. The proctors began rearranging the field once again for the final and most demanding trial.
Damon stood from his seat, stretching subtly. "I'll be back," he muttered, stepping away from Celeste and Anaya, who didn't question his retreat.
He descended the spiraling stone staircase beneath the ElderGlow viewing platform and entered one of the coliseum's less-used corridors, lit only by dim mana-lanterns. These halls, reserved for staff and sanctioned guests, were usually empty.
But today, as Damon approached a corner near the outer courtyard, he stopped short.
A figure stood blocking the passage.
Tall, lean, and dressed in a black-and-crimson version of the Crowgarth Academy uniform, the boy looked about nineteen or twenty. Fourth-year—easily. His posture was loose, but Damon caught the subtle coil in his limbs. Like a serpent pretending to sleep.
Damon narrowed his eyes. "You're not supposed to be down here."
The boy tilted his head. His pale gray eyes glead, amused. "Oh? And you are?"
"Third-year. ElderGlow." Damon folded his arms. "This area's restricted unless you're a guest or staff. You're not either."
The Crowgarth student smiled—flat, joyless. "I got lost. These halls are twisted. I was looking for the open-air baths. Heard ElderGlow's got a few that don't sll like old goat."
"That's not this way," Damon replied, voice flat. "You're heading toward the coliseum's rear armory. Not exactly bath territory."
A flicker of recognition passed over the boy's face. "You've got sharp eyes."
"Better sharp than stupid."
That did it.
The older boy's expression shifted slightly—smile thinning into sothing else. Not anger, but sothing colder. His right foot slid subtly into stance, just a fraction.
Damon's left hand tightened at his side.
"Careful," the Crowgarth boy murmured. "You don't know who I am."
"I don't need to," Damon said. "You're out of bounds, suspicious, and if you make one more twitch like that, I'll break your ribs and toss you back to your academy's stands myself."
For a mont, silence stretched like drawn string between them.
Then a third voice interrupted.
"Ezrien."
The command cracked through the air like a whip.
Both boys turned toward the approaching figure—tall, armored, and wearing the crest of Crowgarth. One of the fourth-years' assigned guardians.
Ezrien's posture relaxed at once. "Ah, found , did you?"
The guardian's face was stone. "You're not to leave the top-tier levels. Co."
Damon said nothing, but didn't lower his guard.
Ezrien gave him one last, unreadable glance. "See you again, maybe," he said, voice lighter now, almost sing-song.
Then he vanished into the shadows of the corridor, led by his guardian.
Damon exhaled slowly and turned back toward the coliseum. Whatever that had been, it wasn't coincidence.
And if that was the kind of student Crowgarth was breeding in their upper years… the third-year battles ahead were going to be even more dangerous than he'd thought.
Damon made his way back to his space up and just as he arrived at his seat with a frown, the arena trembled.
The pillars of the second test retracted back into the ground with groaning stone, and silence stretched over the coliseum like a taut wire.
Every Year Two student stood alert now, bruised and burned but determined.
Their uniforms were dirtied with ash and ice, their breathing heavier than before. For so, limbs trembled subtly from spent stamina.
And yet, not a single one stepped back.
Above, Damon narrowed his eyes. Even he had never attempted this third trial when he was in Year Two.
It had been introduced only two years ago—an experintal challenge, one that pushed even the most talented to the brink of collapse.
Master Ilwin raised a hand, and runes flared to life once more—this ti, the entire field began to shift.
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