A hush fell across the colosseum.
The kind of silence that didn't belong in a space this loud. No cheers. No debates. Not even murmurs. Everyone simply watched on as they declared ElderGlow and Thornevale the winning teams of the second test phase.
Just stillness.
None of them had anticipated that it would be a draw. Not a single soul had expected Damon to share the win with Kaelis instead of fight it out.
Every one of them were either confused, angry, or trying to wake up from this dreamy reality.
And in the center of it all, Dean Oryll stood once more—his violet and gold robes swaying lightly in the high-altitude wind, the sa quiet smile playing on his lips.
"The first two trials," he began, "have been… comprehensive."
His voice echoed from the floating orbs above the arena, amplified and folded with magic. "They tested your coordination. Your instincts. Your ability to bend or break."
Students across the viewing platform—those who had survived, those who hadn't—stiffened as he continued.
"So of you thrived. Others… shattered. Just as the tests had been intended."
Oryll gestured toward the shifting sky. "In most years, this final trial would be the most brutal as we've seen with the younger students. The most demanding. The one that fractures even the elite."
He paused.
Smiled wider.
"But this year… no."
Gasps rose.
No?
Was he joking?
Was this a fake-out?
Oryll raised a single hand, and the sky darkened briefly.
Then, with a flash of golden runes, a massive translucent screen shimred into view, hanging in the air like a divine decree.
It was a ranking board.
But not by teams.
By individuals.
The top 3 nas floated at the top:
1. Damon Terrace (ElderGlow)
2. Kaelis Dorne (Thornevale)
3. Celeste Varin (ElderGlow)
Cheers erupted at the sight of nas, but more than that ca confusion. Ranking boards? At this stage?
Dean Oryll let the tension stew before continuing.
"The third and final test," he said, "will not be one of chaos. Nor one of numbers."
His eyes glinted.
"It will be choice."
With another flick of his staff, the arena changed again.
This ti, everything fell away.
All platforms. All fragnts. All floating debris. Even the beacon.
What replaced it was simple—brutally simple.
A wide, flat circle of white stone. Empty. Pure. Clean.
At its center: two standing circles. Facing each other.
A dueling platform.
The crowd stirred.
Even the Deans—those seated on high, even Dean Dethrein—sat up.
Oryll's voice returned. "The third trial belongs to two people: the top two participants of this year's trials."
All eyes moved.
First to Kaelis.
Then to Damon.
Both stood still. Unmoving.
"Kaelis Dorne. Damon Terrace." Oryll said, his tone even. "You will face each other in single combat. No reinforcents. No substitutions. One versus one."
He paused.
Then dropped the real weight of the trial:
"The victor shall be granted the right to raise any three students by three ranks each. And lower one student of their choice by three rank."
"The loser… will choose three students to be demoted by two rank."
"Or choose no one."
"But the changes are final."
Shock turned to stunned silence. Even the sharpest students began calculating.
Then Oryll turned slightly and added:
"As for the rest of the contestants… you may each wager your belief."
"Place your stake behind the fighter you believe will win."
"If you choose correctly, your ranking will increase by three."
"If you choose wrong… you drop three."
It hit like a storm.
The rules were simple.
But the implications?
Devastating.
Students began to whisper.
So loudly.
So in panicked silence.
Others rushed to talk with their teammates—debating odds, trying to predict whether Damon or Kaelis would win. A few questioned whether to risk the bet at all. But Oryll made it clear:
"You must choose."
Those who had been ranked lower suddenly saw an opportunity.
A gamble to rise.
Others, higher-ranked, grew nervous. They had more to lose.
Dean Godsthorn grinned with both hands behind his back. "This… is brilliant."
Lady Reyla kicked her legs lazily. "Such a ssy little ga of loyalty and ambition."
Lord Terrace said nothing.
He simply watched Damon, his son, who hadn't blinked once since the rankings appeared.
Razel Acheon let out a single breath. "He'll win."
Reyla blinked. "Who? Your brother?"
"No," Razel replied. "The one in whom my little brother completely trusts, Damon. He looks the part."
Kaelis sat on a low stone bench within her team's holding zone, eyes half-closed, glaive resting across her knees.
Sereth stepped close, voice low. "If you win… you'll secure our standing."
Kaelis didn't open her eyes.
"And if I lose?"
Sereth hesitated. "We might drop. But everyone expects a fight. Besides, it is indeed true that you're yet to lose a fight and I don't think this will be the first."
Kaelis opened her eyes, sharp and cold. "If it's a fight they want, they'll get one."
Damon adjusted the leather wrap on his right wrist in silence.
Celeste, leaning against the wall, raised a brow. "You good?"
He nodded.
"Not planning to lose, are you?"
"Not in the slightest bit."
"Good," Daveon said, stepping in. "Because if you do, I'm blaming the rankings on you forever."
Anaya chuckled, arms crossed. "Do your best. But if she knocks you out, I'm not reviving you."
Damon gave the barest smirk. "For you, I'll do everything I can to win." He winked at Anaya and she blushed.
And stood.
The ranking board remained visible as each student approached the glowing pedestals beside the spectator rows. Two floating glyphs hovered above each pedestal: KAELIS and DAMON.
One by one, the other representatives of each academy walked up, placed their hand against a sigil, and made their choice.
So did it confidently.
So did it hesitantly.
Others stared for long seconds before finally selecting—wagering their future on one fight.
The arena was empty now—save for the dueling platform. The other participants had moved to their resting sections.
The air was too quiet.
Oryll's voice returned.
"Contestants. Step forward."
Damon began walking.
Kaelis stepped out at the sa ti from the opposite edge.
Two figures.
Both calm.
Both lethal.
Both utterly determined.
They entered the center circle.
Neither spoke.
They didn't need to.
The final battle hadn't begun.
But it was already echoing across the walls of every mind present. This would not only determine their fate but the fate of everyone believing in them.
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