Universität der Ewigen Flamme – Central Grounds, 3rd Sun Cycle
The morning haze rolled through the ash-swept courtyards of the Universität der Ewigen Flamme like a slow tide, curling between fire-forged towers and basalt spires. Crimson banners fluttered with the glyph of the Eternal Flame—unchanging, devouring, divine.
Maximilian Kriegswald stood alone beneath the Gate of Names.
Etched along its obsidian arch were generations of students who had passed the Crucible Trials and ascended to become Flame Lords, Divine Crafters, or Chronicle-bearers. Only the most exceptional names burned in everlight.
His was not yet one of them.
But it would be.
System Notification:Class Progression Path: Stellarweave Initiate – 23%Soul Weapon: Sternenschneide [Prototype] – Stable Dormancy (57%)Trait Suppression: Holding steady (Warning: SSS+ fluctuation detected during recent resonance event)
He flexed his hands, still remembering the weight of the forge that had never been real yet more real than anything he'd touched before.
Today was his first official day as a full student. No trials. No combat rites. Just classes.
And yet…
Whispers followed him like a second shadow.
"That's him—the one who defeated Falko Grauwind."
"I heard his aura surged past S+. They say the Chancellor flagged his file."
"No House mark? He's not aligned? Then who's backing him…?"
Maximilian kept walking.
The Eternal Flame did not whisper to the timid. It roared for those who dared answer.
Location: The Hall of Auric Disciplines – Tier I Theory Wing
Maximilian entered to find rows of students seated on ascending circular tiers, watching a flame-scribed lecture globe rotate in the center of the amphitheater.
Professor Esselgrave stood beneath it, hands clasped behind her back, hair like silver fire.
"Let us begin," she intoned, "with the Theory of Duality: Why All Flame Must Cast a Shadow."
Glyphs ignited in the air.
Light and dark. Fire and void. Expansion and collapse.
To most, it was metaphor. A philosophical treatise wrapped in mana theory.
To Maximilian, it was literal.
He remembered the Vault. The Forge. The blade that had whispered things into his soul no weapon should know.
As the lecture progressed, he took notes—but not for understanding. For observation. Mapping gaps. Cross-referencing flame constructs with the forgotten forging patterns he'd inherited.
The professor paused once, glancing his way. Her eyes narrowed.
Then she smiled.
Break: Emberhall Commons
He ate alone, ignoring the probing stares and posturing House recruits in their color-coded robes.
But not everyone stayed away.
A girl with quartz eyes and silver-braided hair approached. She wore no House sigil—only the black threads of a Free Caster.
"You're the one they're all buzzing about," she said.
"And you are?"
"Elira. Soul-Tuned. I speak to relics."
He raised an eyebrow. "Soul Whisperer lineage?"
She nodded.
"Then you already know not to touch what I carry."
"I don't need to," she replied. "It's already singing. Loudly."
That gave him pause.
She leaned in closer. "You're about to be tested. Not by professors. By them."
Before he could ask, a flare went off in the sky—gold and violet flame forming a summons glyph.
Emergency Council Summons – Independent Candidate Maximilian Kriegswald
Location: Flame Parliament Tower – Inner Council Chamber
He stood before them again. This time, without blood, without trial. Just scrutiny.
High Chancellor Ignatia Vulkrand regarded him over interlocking fingers.
"Three Houses have offered alignment," she said. "You accepted none."
"I'm not for sale."
"Not even for power?"
"I have my own forge," Maximilian replied.
Several council members exchanged glances.
"What if the university deems you too independent? Too unstable?"
"Then you'll prove yourselves unworthy of the path I walk."
Silence.
A beat passed. Then a slow, measured laugh echoed from the shadows.
The Vice Chancellor emerged—Alarion Duskveil. Thin, ghost-eyed, voice like dust over parchment.
"The Flame Throne has called," he said.
Gasps. Even the High Chancellor straightened.
"What?"
Duskveil nodded. "For the first time in three centuries, the Throne ignited a glyph: Vorbereitung. Preparation."
Only Throne Key bearers could even see the glyph.
Only one had resonated with the Throne in the past cycle.
All eyes turned to Maximilian.
Location: Flame Throne Path – Restricted Access Level
Two escorts walked in silence beside him. Wards flared with every step.
This place felt less like a university wing and more like a divine tomb.
Finally, he stood before it.
The Flame Throne.
It was not a seat.
It was a construct—half machine, half living mana core—suspended above a void of melted reality. Lava, starlight, and time swirled beneath it.
It pulsed when he approached.
System Notification (Hidden):"Stellarweave Core recognized. Progression acceptable.""Initiating secondary ignition…"
The Throne flared. Glyphs spun through the air.
Suddenly—light. Fire. Pain.
He was no longer in his body.
He saw memories not his own—generations of Starforgers.
Then darkness.
A voice thundered—not aloud, but in his soul.
"Will you burn bright enough to shape fate, or dim into ash like the others?"
He stood his ground.
"I won't fade. I will forge."
System Update:Unique Path Progression Increased: 41%Flame Throne Recognition: 1st Level Access GrantedNew Ability: Throne Sigil – Astral Core Detection & Temporary Flame Command Rights (Rank Locked)
Post-Event: Dormitory – Duskfall
He returned to silence.
No announcement had been made. No scrolls posted. But word would spread.
Those who watched from the shadows would see it.
The Throne had moved.
And now… so would the world.
End of Chapter 10: Der Ruf des Flammenthrons – The Call of the Flame Throne