The chaos from the Battle Royale had barely settled when the academy grounds were swept clean, almost unnaturally fast. Not a drop of blood remained, nor a single shattered tile. Magic pulsed faintly through the atmosphere—restoring, renewing, watching.
The top 100 had been chosen.
They stood now before a monumental courtyard, where obsidian towers spiraled into the sky. Each tower represented a dormitory. Each dormitory, a statement of rank and prestige.
A masked elder in dark purple robes floated above them, holding a crystalline tablet. His voice echoed as if bouncing off unseen dimensions.
> "Dormitories will be assigned based on performance. Top 10—Obsidian Crest Tower. Next 20—Silver Veil. The rest—Bronze Hollow. The final 20? Outer Pavilion."
Murmurs rose. Obsidian Crest was known as the cradle of future Monarchs and Generals. Only legends had slept under its roof.
Elric stood confidently. The audience roared his name.
> "Elric Thorne, 1st Rank. Obsidian Crest."
A respectful cheer followed. He stepped forward, basking in the warmth of recognition.
Then came the unexpected.
> "Alaric Veyne… 1st Rank. Obsidian Crest."
Confusion rippled. A few choked on their breath. Even the elder paused mid-scroll.
> "Correction. Tied First Rank. With… vastly differing point acquisition methods."
Whispers exploded in the stands.
> "But he didn't move!"
"He drank coffee the entire time!"
"Is he the one… the cults talk about?"
Elric's jaw clenched ever so slightly. He didn't turn. But Alaric, still sipping from his obsidian thermos, gave the faintest smirk.
---
Dormitory – Obsidian Crest
Each member of the top 10 entered through black iron gates, flanked by spirit sentinels. Inside: lavish, ancient, and cold.
Alaric was assigned a suite near the rooftop—a wide circular room with a glass dome. Silent, distant. Just the way he liked it.
Moments later, the door across his hall opened.
She stepped out.
Lysandra Noxveil.
Wearing the academy uniform with custom black trim and bearing a silver seal of the Council, she didn't say a word. Their eyes met.
Something passed between them. Not respect. Not rivalry.
Understanding.
She turned. "You're interesting."
And walked away.
Alaric exhaled slowly.
> "So… they placed her in Obsidian Crest too."
He didn't need to bind her. Not yet. But the system pulsed faintly. It recognized value.
---
Classroom – The Core Hall
The first class was not combat. It was Foundations of Authority.
Taught by Headmaster Arven Drayne himself—a mage whose shadow was said to be alive.
He stood behind an enchanted podium that aged and healed with his breath.
> "You are not children. You are the Great Generation. Your growth will determine this world's fate."
He turned his gaze toward Elric. Then toward Alaric. Then—Lysandra.
> "In history, those who shine brightest burn quickest. Survive your own light."
He tapped the air. A projection formed, showing world maps with red rings.
> "Disasters are forming. Dungeons—waking. And the balance of affinities is tilting."
He looked directly at Alaric.
> "Some of you were born for power. Some… will inherit it. Others will steal it."
The room turned cold.
---
Sparring Class – Arena
The second class was combat-based. Elric volunteered first. His opponent—a dragonkin boy with molten fists.
They clashed with roars and flames. Elric, wielding his Noble Flame, danced like a chosen war god. He crushed the dragonkin with a final flaming sigil in the air.
Applause.
Then, Alaric stepped forward.
> "Who's next?" he asked, voice calm.
Five hands hesitated. Until one girl stepped in—Sera, the Ice Reaper. The same girl from the broken engagement. Now colder, more distant.
She didn't say anything.
They exchanged a single strike.
Her ice froze the entire arena floor.
His foot tapped once—and her ice shattered.
Sera stood motionless. Her eyes widened.
> "You're… far stronger now…"
He didn't respond. Just walked away.
Unknown to her, the faint violet thread from their Binding pulsed.
The instructors noted something silently:
> Elric wins with fire.
But Alaric wins with silence.
---
Ending Scene
Later that night, at the top of Obsidian Crest Tower, Alaric stood beneath the moon, watching the stars.
The system whispered.
> [Power Growth from Bound: Elric Vayne— +4.3%]
[Power Growth from Bound: Sera Valen — +2.8%]
[Potential Bind Detected: Lysandra Noxveil — Locked]
He smirked.
> "Let the academy games begin."
---