Chapter 30
Silence filled the room well after the messenger departed.
A single, imperial seal lay on the stone desk in front of the five Aflety Academy heads. The wax glowed with gold-speckled magic, still weakly throb-bing—testimony to its validity.
Headmaster Gawain had his arms crossed, his piercing eyes locked on the letter's message. The room was heavy with an energy that caused even the candle flames to dance uneasily.
"…So it is true," breathed Professor Lysandra Vale, chief of Spirit and Dream Magic. "The Emperor has designated him. Evan Rochel—successor to the Imperial Beast Guard."
Professor Thalos released a drawn-out breath, resting on his staff. "A lad with a beast that doesn't belong. And now… a name that's not been taken in almost two generations."
Professor Ansel Marrow crossed his arms. "This will alter everything."
Headmaster Gawain didn't answer at once. His eyes wandered over to the great window of the council hall, where the Dominion Trial arenas still buzzed with mana and tumult.
"This tidings will be in the noble courts by sundown," he said at last. "And by sunrise… the vultures will be circling."
⸻
Aflety Dormitory – Evan's Room
Evan didn't feel like a hero.
He sat in his study chair, dripping still with the residue of the Gauntlet of Spirits, gazing at the letter in his hand that remained sealed.
The handwriting of the Emperor was perfect. The seal had snapped open the instant he touched it. But the words within… he hadn't read them aloud. Not even to Nex.
"Do you believe that's real?" he whispered.
Nex, bigger now, smoother, and with the presence of something divine and old, laid his head next to Evan's leg.
"It is. I sensed the spell on it. This is no trick."
Evan's grip on the letter became a vice.
He didn't desire power. He didn't crave fame. Not like this. Not in association with the ancient machine of empires and war.
But now, the nobles knew. The world knew.
And the bull's eye on his back had just made a thousand-fold increase.
"Guess I don't get to be just another student anymore."
Nex threw him a head tilt. "You never were."
Knock on the door.
It was Lilith.
"Evan… can we talk?"
.,,
Evan cracked the door slowly.
Lilith was in the dark corridor, her silver locks glinting in the golden light of the lanterns. Her normal poise had broken—barely. A flicker of nervousness crossed her face, quickly covered by a thin-lipped smile.
"I heard," she whispered.
"I figured."
She entered without knocking and shut the door. Her eyes swept across the room—the bookshelves filled with magical texts, beast-taming journals, and bits of parchment with Evan's handwriting. Nex grunted a welcome from the carpet and laid his head once more.
Lilith approached the desk where the Emperor's letter remained.
"So it's true," she whispered.
He didn't speak. Not at first. He just stared at the parchment, as if hoping it would vanish.
Lilith turned to him. "This changes everything, Evan."
"I know."
"You're not just Evan Rochel anymore," she said. "You're the heir to the Imperial Beast Guard. The Empire's chosen. The successor to an order that once commanded thousands of legendary beasts and marched beside emperors into battle."
He flinched at the weight in her voice. "I didn't ask for this."
"I know," she said. "But it chose you. Just like Nex did."
She took a step closer. Her eyes—those haunting, noble crimson eyes—seemed gentler than usual.
"I've seen what this place does to people. To power. It eats them alive. But you…" She reached for his hand and held it tightly. "You're not them. You'll never be them."
Evan looked down. "I'm scared, Lilith. Not of the title. Not of the beasts or the nobles or even The Black Nest. I'm scared of losing myself."
She placed her free hand against his cheek, guiding his gaze up to hers.
"Then don't fight alone."
The silence between them lingered—tender, vulnerable.
Then, from the corner of the room, Nex suddenly snorted.
"Oh for the love of scales," he grumbled. "Just kiss already, you two. The tension in here is making my tail twitch."
Evan moaned and put his hands over his face. "Nex—!"
Lilith giggled softly. "He's not wrong, you know."
"I am not kissing anyone with an audience," Evan grumbled, red-faced.
"Oh," Nex said with a smirk. "Then I'll just take a step out. Into the hallway. And totally not eavesdrop with my extra-sensitive hearing."
Lilith moved in close, her lips touching Evan's ear with a wicked grin. "He's clearly your beast."
Aflety was no longer an academy.
It was a war camp. A fortress. A chessboard of alliances and hidden agendas.
Banners fluttered in the breeze as airships landed from all over the continent—each one displaying the sigil of a powerful rival school or political faction.
From the north, the top-tier Glacien Arcanum arrived, their uniforms sewn with ice-threads and mana-conductive crystal fibers. Their head student, Valkra Wyrn, was a woman who went by the title of Frostblade Heiress—said to have domesticated a Leviathan-class creature at age ten.
From the desert realms came Ashveil Spire, dressed in burnished gold and crimson silks, commanded by Prince Kael Al'Zahir, a fire user of extraordinary skill and second son of the Sand Sovereign himself.
On a black and gold airship came Solcrest Dominion, the Empire's military-academy aligned institution. Their envoy, Dame Tyra Volcroft, came down with her armored wyvern and a wordless squadron of mana-armed knights.
But the last one to come made the greatest impression.
Thornspire Academy, the enigmatic exception from the western isles.
Their vessel was a living one—carved from a tree hundreds of feet tall, its bark encased in silver runes. Their war leader, Iria Thornveil, came down barefoot, her mount a stag cloaked in shadow and topped with antlers of starlight.
All of Aflety's students stood on the balconies to watch.
Gareth Ironfang leaned over the railing beside Silva and Cassia. "I'm starting to feel underdressed."
Silva narrowed her eyes at Iria. "She's not normal. None of them are. Their beasts feel… older."
Cassia nodded. "This tournament won't just test power. This is politics now. Alliances. Messaging."
Evan approached, cloak rustling in the wind.
They turned as he arrived, Nex now floating behind him in a serpent-like, more regal form—his dark scales shimmering like a moonlit lake.
"Let them watch," Evan said.
Cassia smirked. "I was hoping you'd say that."
By noon, the coliseum was filled to the brim with students, nobles, envoys, and foreign royals. Magical projections hovered above the arena like floating screens, showing real-time data and names.
Professor Gawain stood at the center, wearing ceremonial robes.
"Welcome to the Dominion Trials Grand Phase."
A roar of applause.
"The next stages will not be one-on-one duels. Nor mere beast displays. You will fight in team formations—three members per unit—on five fields, each with a prevailing elemental resonance."
"Your team will have to plan. Choose your environment. Adapt to changing terrains and enemy compositions.
"Victory will depend not just on combat power but tactical leadership, coordination, and survival."
"Points will be given per phase. Top three teams will move on to the Final Reckoning—where one team will be crowned Dominion's Crest and granted the patronage of the Empire."
Gawain held up a hand.
"And take note—outside interference, sabotage, or forbidden alliances will mean public unbinding of your beast contracts."
Gasps rang out.
That was the worst punishment. A monster unrestrained by power would never have faith in its trainer again. It was worse than banishment.
Evan's face grew stony.
So it was done, then.
The games had officially started.
By the flickering torchlight in the courtyard at the back of the academy, tension hung in the air like dry lightning.
Evan and his squad were approaching the training annex when they were intercepted by members of Solcrest and Thornspire—Prince Kael Al'Zahir, Iria Thornveil, and Dame Tyra.
The opposing leaders had boxed in one of the first-year Aflety students, with magic-spiced threats and smug gazes.
Evan didn't think twice.
"Back away."
Kael's golden gaze met his. "You have to be the newly appointed heir."
Iria leaned her head. "You have the scent of spirit flame. And of rebirth."
Evan blocked them and the younger student from advancing. "He's protected by me."
Dame Tyra didn't bat an eye. "Let him defend himself then. Dominion does not accept weakness.
Nex curled up behind Evan in the air, his scales softly radiating.
"You wish to try us?" Evan said. "Then do so on the field. Not in shadows."
There was a moment of silence.
Then Kael grinned. "Very well. But take this moment, heir. This is your Fourth Spark—your first real stand. And sparks, when hit hard enough."
".set war alight," Iria concluded.
The three spun and disappeared into the darkness, leaving behind only tension.
Lilith stepped beside Evan. "You've just painted a target on your back."
Evan looked over his shoulder. "Good."
"I want them to see me coming."
Chapter End .
⸻