Inside a tent larger than most merchant homes, lit by floating crystals and perfumed with calming incense, the inner circle of noble candidates gathered over a low obsidian table.
Only the finest had been invited. Velvet drapes silenced the night, and guards — silent, elite, and enchanted — stood outside, ensuring no ears but theirs would hear what passed within.
Leonhart Duskveil, heir to House Duskveil, sat at the head of the table with legs crossed and a goblet of skyfruit wine dangling from his fingers.
"So," he said lazily, swirling the liquid, "the rabble gathers. Mages from border towns, merchant bastards, forest children with wild eyes… and yet, they believe they'll enter the Academy."
He chuckled, golden hair glinting in the lamplight.
"They do love their stories, don't they?"The voice came from Velia de Martaine, whose fan snapped shut with a soft click. "Commoners dream of rising, nobles dream of ruling. I wonder which fantasy will shatter first."
Brynwald Corven remained silent, arms folded. His gray eyes watched them all — always calculating, always ready to strike. Unlike the others, he cared less for words. His strength, it was said, spoke for him.
Seraphina Liora stood apart, near the edge of the light, as if untouched by their mocking. Her gaze flickered toward the tent's exit, where distant laughter from the outer encampment could still be heard.
"They laugh now," she said softly, "but tomorrow, when the Theory Trial begins… truth will separate myth from merit."
Leonhart smirked. "Oh? Do you truly expect one of them to outscore us?"
Seraphina didn't answer.
The Political Stakes
"Let's be honest," said Velia, shifting to sit cross-legged. "This exam isn't just about magic. It's about influence. Prestige. We're not here to pass — we're here to dominate."
Leonhart raised his goblet. "To top rankings, then. To High Professors remembering our names. To sealing our futures before the Academy even begins."
There was a clink of crystal.
Velia leaned forward, her violet eyes narrowing. "Have you heard about that commoner girl from the Mirkvale village? The apothecary's brat. Word is she memorized the entire Basic Theory Codex before age twelve."
Brynwald snorted. "And what of it?"
Seraphina spoke again. "I've heard of her. Lyra Mirkvale. Sharp. Possibly a Mental-type caster. She's not to be underestimated."
Leonhart dismissed the concern with a flick of his hand. "Let her score well on paper. She'll still trip on her own mana strings before long."
Another name floated into the circle.
"There's a boy," Velia said carefully. "Dark cloak. Keeps to himself. No servants. No crest. Doesn't speak. But… he walks like he owns the air around him."
Leonhart tilted his head. "Oh? A mystery? That's adorable."
"His name?" Brynwald asked, finally speaking.
Velia shrugged. "No one knows. But he's watching. Listening. He's not like the others."
"Then we'll watch him too," Seraphina said.
Leonhart leaned back, bored. "Let him play the ghost. We'll still be the ones standing at the top."
Wagers, Schemes, and Silent Games
Before the night ended, Velia placed a stack of golden merit tokens on the table.
"A wager," she said. "Let's make this interesting."
They looked at her, intrigued.
"Each of us places a bet — who will stand in the top five after the Theory Trial. Pick one noble, one non-noble. No repeating names. If your guess is right, you win the pool."
Leonhart grinned. "Why not? I'll take myself, obviously… and for the non-noble…"
He paused, thinking.
"That fire-juggler boy. Riven. If only because he's loud enough to be amusing."
Velia smirked. "I'll pick Seraphina and that Mirkvale girl. Brains over brawn."
Brynwald, gruff and without flourish, answered: "Corven. Myself. And the dark-cloaked boy."
Everyone blinked.
"You think he's capable?" Velia asked, surprised.
Brynwald simply nodded.
Seraphina stepped away from the group, her long sleeves swaying like the wings of a raven.
"I'll bet on Leonhart," she said. "And… the boy with no name. We'll see what fate reveals."
Outside the tent, the guards still stood motionless, unaware of the tremor beginning beneath the ground.
Inside the camp, Kieran sat alone in his tent, eyes closed, System pulsing gently in his mind.
[System Notification]Magical Signatures Detected: Enchanted tents, sealed audio barriers, protective glyphs.Location: Noble Quarters – Active Surveillance Mode Available.
'No need,' Kieran thought with a soft smile. 'I already know how this game begins…'
'Let's see how they handle the moment when the board flips.'