Chapter 26: The Road to the Academy
The morning sun cast a golden glow over the estate, illuminating the grand purple carriage that would take Noah to the Academy.
He stood before it, hands in his pockets, his face calm yet unreadable.
Behind him, his mother, Selene, along with an assembly of knights, servants, and mages, all stood with pride in their eyes.
And… there was an unexpected guest.
A silver cat with piercing purple eyes perched on Selene's shoulder.
Noah's brows twitched. His gaze flicked to Neko, the black-furred cat sitting smugly on his head.
"…Am I meeting your mother?" he muttered.
Neko, in response, flicked her tail, feigning indifference.
Selene stepped forward, wrapping him in a tight embrace.
Her voice trembled. Just a little.
"I'll miss you, my baby," she murmured, pressing her cheek against his. "If you encounter any problems there, just let me know. I'll come and freeze them all."
Noah's expression softened.
His mother… was too cute.
Three years. In those three years, he had grown to love her deeply. And for that he would protect her, no matter what.
He smiled.
"You're worrying over nothing, Mother," he said, smugly. "Who would dare to harm the beloved son of Selene Weaverheart, the Witch of Eternal Cold?"
Selene's sorrow vanished. Her smirk returned, full of pride.
"Of course, of course," she said, puffing her chest. "No one would dare."
Then, her gaze shifted to the silver cat.
"Luminara, you insisted on coming. Are you not going to say something? Or maybe a word to that rebellious daughter of yours?"
The silver cat—Luminara—clicked her tongue.
A very human action. Eerie.
"I only came to see him off" she said coolly. "Not to talk."
Then, her violet gaze locked onto Neko's.
A deep chill filled the air.
Her voice was cold. "You better behave yourself, Neko. Do not cause unnecessary trouble for Noah."
Neko scoffed. "I am not a child, Mother."
The two continued bickering, their cold, sharp words carrying a level of tension only mothers and daughters could manage.
But suddenly—
A shadow shifted.
A woman stepped forward.
She had raven-black hair, piercing red eyes, and a presence so lightless that it seemed to devour the surrounding light.
For the first time, Noah saw her face to face.
Selene's shadow.
Sari.
She gave him a deep bow. "Thank you for taking care of my daughter."
Then—she was gone, disappearing into Selene's shadow as if she had never been there.
Selene smiled. "She's shy."
Noah shook his head.
At last, he stepped into the carriage.
But before the door shut, he turned back.
His silver eyes gleamed with a mad glint.
"The entrance test will be recorded," he said. "Everyone can watch from everywhere."
He smirked.
"Look at your son, Mother."
His grin widened.
"I will not hold anything back."
"I will go all out."
The carriage doors closed.
The wheels began to turn.
Noah Weaverheart had departed.
…
In front of the golden palace gates, a golden carriage stood ready.
Princess Sophie Castria was about to step inside when—
Her father's voice stopped her.
"Do not forget, Sophie."
She turned.
Rome Castria—the Emperor—stood on the palace steps, hands behind his back, expression cold.
"You are going there to win over Elijah," he said. "And discard Noah."
His voice hardened.
"Do you understand me?"
Sophie stood silent.
Seconds passed.
Then, at last, she spoke.
"…Father," she said slowly, her voice almost hesitant. "What if I don't want to be used as a mere political tool to secure the Chosen One?"
Her hands clenched.
"What if I want to compete for the throne?"
Silence.
Rome Castria stared at her.
Then—he laughed.
Not warm. Not amused.
Cold. Contemptuous.
"Don't spout nonsense," he said, voice sharp as steel. "This Empire has been ruled by men since its beginning."
He turned.
"I will not be the Emperor who changes that tradition."
Then—he was gone.
Sophie stood there, staring at the empty space where her father had been.
A presence flickered beside her.
A crackle of lightning.
A woman appeared.
Emily.
She smiled softly. "Now, do you have your answer?"
Sophie exhaled. Slowly.
Then, she stepped into the carriage.
Her expression unreadable.
"No mercy, then."
The carriage doors shut.
And she, too, left for the Academy.
Emily stood there, watching her go.
She smiled.
The game had begun.
…
The Academy was not just for humans.
From every race, every corner of the world, the most talented had begun their journey. The Elves. The Beastmen. The Dwarves. The Demons. Even hidden beings unknown to all.
All of them moved.
Why?
Because those with power over Fate and Destiny had sensed it.
Those who could see Prophecy had glimpsed it.
This generation—
Would be Glorious.
And none of them wanted to be left behind.
…
The Academy existed within a realm of its own.
A dimension created by its Dean.
However—
The Entrance Test would not take place there.
No. It would be held in the center of the world.
A vast, colossal arena, constructed purely for the purpose of testing.
Spectators gathered. Some in person.
Some through spatial transmission magic, allowing them to watch from the comfort of their homes.
The arena was already chaotic.
Hundreds of young warriors, nobles, and mages from different races stood together—some forming alliances, others standing alone, a few already picking fights.
Then, the first storm arrived.
A floating carriage, drawn by winged horses, descended from the sky.
Emblazoned on it—the crest of the Great Tree.
The Elven Royal Family.
As the carriage landed, she stepped out.
A tall, dark-skinned elf, silver-haired, pink-eyed. A beauty so ethereal that the moment she appeared, the entire arena fell silent.
Aphasia Elfborn.
Princess of the Elven Domain. Sole heir to the throne.
She walked past the crowd without looking at anyone—like they weren't even worth noticing. But the other elfs around her bowed at her sight.
And right after—
A roar.
Two golden-haired lion beastmen leaped from a massive war carriage, their golden eyes shining like fire.
Ray and Domy Valdor.
The twin beasts of the Valdor Royal Family.
One step from them alone made the weaker ones in the crowd stagger.
Then—
A short, unassuming figure walked forward.
A dwarf. No beard, no towering muscles, no weapons on his back.
Just a short dwarf. He looks like a boy.
Yet something about him—his calm gaze, the way he moved without hesitation—made even the strongest hesitate.
Ren Smith, The successor of the Only Legendary Blacksmith.
And then, a shadow flickered.
No carriage. No grand entrance.
Just a lazy-looking young man walking out of nowhere, his hands in his pockets, his expression dull.
His black hair covered part of his face, his dark eyes uninterested.
It was almost laughable—how unbothered he seemed.
Yet, something about his presence made people avoid looking at him directly.
Eric Shadowbound, Heir to the Shadowbound Family.
His entrance wasn't grand. It wasn't loud.
But somehow, it was the most unnerving.
And then came a deep laugh, a boisterous laugh even filled with battle intents.
Rouge Bloodheart, heir of the Bloodhearts had arrived.
Then—
The red haired princess of the Empire arrived.
The royal emblem of Castria gleamed as she stepped down, red hair flowing, red eyes sharp with crimson lightning flickering inside.
Sophie Castria.
The Empire's princess.
And behind her—
Two figures.
The Stoneheart Twins.
Aiden and Patricia.
Their gazes swept the arena like conquerors.
And then, at last—
The one everyone had been waiting for.
A golden light shimmered as his carriage arrived.
The sigil of the Church proudly displayed.
A figure stepped out.
Tall. Imposing. Radiating power.
His golden hair glowed under the sun, his golden eyes seemed to illuminate the world.
His presence alone shifted the air. Looking like an Angel descended from the heavens.
The Blessed One. The Chosen One. The Goddess's Favorite.
Elijah Stoneheart.
And at his side, dressed in pure white robes, was the Saintess, Elizabeth.
The two of them stood there.
Watching. Observing.
But even then—
Even with all the monsters gathered—
There was still one more.
A purple carriage arrived silently.
No divine light. No loud entrance.
Just pure, chilling elegance.
The sigil of Weaverheart.
The doors opened.
And out stepped—
Noah Weaverheart.
The Spoiled One. The Loved Child of the Duchess of Cold.
No aura. No pressure. No grand display.
Yet the moment his feet touched the ground.
The atmosphere changed.
Elijah's gaze immediately turned to him.
And for the first time, Elijah and Noah met each other.
—End of chapter 26—