Chapter 1: The Academy of Magic and the First Trial
Magic had always existed in the world, but its origin was shrouded in mystery. Some believed it was a gift from the gods, while others thought it was the result of humanity's evolution. Regardless of its origin, magic became the foundation of society. It determined one's status, one's future, and ultimately, one's survival. To master this power, children were sent to elite academies, where they would be trained to harness their abilities.
One such academy was the Grand Arcanum Academy, the best of the best. It was where the most powerful mages were molded, and where only the strongest could thrive. Students from all walks of life aspired to enter, for it was the gateway to greatness.
Paul sat quietly on the academy bus, his eyes scanning the other students. Some were excitedly demonstrating their abilities, conjuring flames, manipulating water, or enhancing their physical strength with magic. Laughter and cheers filled the space as students marveled at each other's skills. However, Paul remained indifferent.
A scene caught his attention—a boy being bullied by an older student. The bully, a muscular student with lightning crackling around his hands, sneered. "You really think you belong here? Someone as weak as you?"
The boy stammered, unable to respond. Just as the bully was about to strike, a girl stepped forward.
"That's enough!" Shasha yelled, her long silver hair flowing as she glared at the bully. "Picking on someone weaker than you? How pathetic."
Paul stared at the scene, his expression unreadable. He had seen this play out countless times before—power ruled over everything. The strong dictated the weak. This was the reality of the world.
"Hey, are you a freshman?" a voice interrupted his thoughts.
Paul turned slightly to see a boy sitting beside him. Instead of responding, he merely nodded.
The boy smiled and began talking, but Paul wasn't listening. His voice faded into the background as Paul's mind drifted. He analyzed everything—the way people interacted, the way they smiled, the way they fought for dominance.
"People are nothing more than dolls, controlled by the strings of society," Paul thought to himself. "Trust is an illusion. Everyone is just waiting to stab you in the back."
He glanced out the window. The academy gates loomed ahead. A vibration in his pocket caught his attention—a missed call from his father.
His expression darkened. A brief flashback crossed his mind. A voice, cold and emotionless, telling him his next mission.
"You must succeed this time, Paul. Failure is not an option."
The bus came to a stop. As students began stepping out, the boy from before tried speaking to Paul again. But Paul ignored him, stepping off the bus without a word.
The bus came to a slow halt. The massive gates of Astral Academy loomed before them, engraved with ancient runes pulsating with power.
Paul stepped off the bus, the crisp air of the academy grounds filling his lungs. His wrist buzzed. A missed call. His father.
His fingers clenched slightly.
A flicker of memory surfaced.
A dimly lit room. A voice instructing him. A mission.
His eyes hardened as he dismissed the call and observed his surroundings. Students gazed at the towering castle-like academy in awe. Some murmured in excitement, while the noble-borns and a select few, including Paul, remained composed, their expressions unreadable.
As they walked through the grand hallway, a crystal embedded in the ceiling glowed, and a soothing voice echoed through the halls.
"Freshmen, gather at the Grand Hall for your orientation."
Paul moved with the crowd, his every step measured, calculated.
At the far end of the hall stood three figures—the Holy Ones.
The pinnacle of magical perfection. Their gazes swept across the sea of freshmen, their expressions filled with disdain. To them, the newcomers were nothing more than weaklings.
Paul's lips curled slightly.
The academy was grand, its towering spires gleaming under the sunlight. Paul stood still, observing his new battlefield. A few moments later, an announcement echoed across the area.
"Freshmen, you will now take the entrance test. This will determine your placement in the academy."
Paul narrowed his eyes. "A test, huh? Probably to measure our capacity."
Students began panicking, unsure of what awaited them. Meanwhile, Paul remained calm, already calculating every possible scenario. He found a quiet spot and pulled out a magical book, flipping through the pages.
A shadow loomed over him. Looking up, he saw three seniors.
"Reading a book during a freshman test? That's inappropriate," one of them sneered, snatching the book from him.
The other two chuckled. "You freshmen think you're something special? Let me tell you—this academy isn't for the weak."
Paul simply stared at them. Without a word, he took his book back and walked away. The seniors were taken aback but didn't pursue him.
As he walked, a girl bumped into him. "Ah, sorry!" she said quickly.
Paul looked at her—Shasha. He nodded. "No problem."
The first test began.
It was a combat assessment, similar to the entrance exam of hero academies. Students were pitted against monstrous creatures to gauge their abilities. The field was chaotic—fireballs flew, lightning crackled, and wind howled as students unleashed their magic.
Felix, a student with earth magic, manipulated the ground to shield himself. Shasha, agile and precise, danced around her enemies, striking with precision. Others struggled, their inexperience showing.
Paul, however, simply walked forward.
As he passed the monsters, they fell—lifeless, without him ever touching them.
He glanced at a nearby CCTV camera. "Did they see that?" he mused.
In the observation room, instructors stared at the screen in shock.
"How is that possible?!"
One instructor frowned. "He must have cheated. There's no way he did that without casting a spell."