The entrance Exam IV

There was no hesitation. Daven raised his hands in surrender, and the match was over. The crowd erupted into cheers, and even those who had doubted Arthur's abilities now watched him with newfound respect. He had shown not only his mana prowess but also his remarkable swordsmanship, all without casting a single spell.

Back at the headmasters' quarters,

In the elevated viewing platform, draped in rich tapestries and overlooking the sparring grounds, sat the headmaster of the world academy or better known throughout duterra as the Wizard King. He wore an elaborate robe of deep indigo, embroidered with golden patterns that shimmered under the light. A grand staff, etched with arcane runes, rested at his side. His presence was imposing, yet calm—a figure of immense power and authority. His sharp, piercing eyes followed every move on the battlefield below with an almost otherworldly focus. Beside him stood an elderly man in a crisp, formal butler's uniform. The man's posture was impeccable, and his demeanor was one of quiet efficiency, holding a silver tray of documents in one hand.

The Wizard King stroked his beard thoughtfully as he watched Arthur's match, his interest piqued by the boy's skill and poise. He leaned forward slightly, his regal cape brushing the floor as he addressed the butler-like attendant beside him.

"Hmm, that boy shows potential," the Wizard King mused, his voice rich and commanding. "Have you done a background check on him?"

The butler, whose posture never wavered, nodded solemnly before retrieving a thin folder from his tray. With a swift motion, he handed it to the Wizard King and began to speak.

"Yes, sir," the attendant replied in a respectful tone. "It seems he is the descendant of one of the Twelve Original Round Knights. His father was a knight, but his choice to marry a woman from the southern continent led to complications. The woman's family was once associated with a lineage descended from ex-demonic humans. Because of their union, his father was eventually expelled from the Knights of the Holy Empire."

The Wizard King's gaze narrowed slightly at this revelation, but he said nothing, allowing the butler to continue.

"Tragically, his family was killed during the demonic attack that swept across the central continent several years ago."

"Hmmm, I see…" The Wizard King reclined in his chair, his fingers tapping thoughtfully against the armrest. "No wonder he felt so familiar. Tell me, was his father named Nathan?"

The butler nodded once more, his expression unchanged. "Yes, sir. Nathan. It appears he was also a former student of this academy. In fact, he was likely your junior, sir, during your time here."

"I see…" The Wizard King's expression softened for a brief moment, a flicker of old memories passing through his eyes. He waved his hand dismissively. "You may go now. Bring me the report of the previous tests."

The butler bowed deeply. "Yes, sir." With practiced precision, he turned on his heel and quietly exited the chamber, leaving the Wizard King alone with his thoughts.

As the distant echoes of battle continued to resonate from the arena below, the Wizard King leaned back, staring thoughtfully at the sparring grounds. His piercing gaze focused once again on Arthur, who had just won his match with graceful precision.

'What a strange twist of fate, Nathan…' the Wizard King pondered, lost in thought. 'Your son shows the same potential I once saw in you. I wonder… if things would have turned out differently if I had helped you back then, against the Templar Knights?'

The memory of his old friend lingered in his mind, bittersweet and heavy. But the present was calling, and now it was the son of that same knight who stood before him, filled with promise. Perhaps this time, things would be different

Next came Jayden's duel, and it was just as awe-inspiring. Though he didn't wield dual swords like Arthur, his skill with a sword and shield was unparalleled. His opponent, a second year known for her speed and agility, wielded twin daggers and darted around the ring, hoping to catch Jayden off guard. But she never stood a chance.

The moment the match started, Jayden surged forward, his sword flashing with precision and power. His shield blocked every attempted strike, while his sword found every opening. Within seconds, it was over. Jayden disarmed his opponent with a brutal efficiency, his shield knocking her off balance while his sword hovered near her chest. The crowd barely had time to register what had happened before the match was declared finished.

Jayden's mastery was absolute, and it became clear why he was considered one of the academy's most promising students. There was no wasted movement, no hesitation—just pure skill and power.

After Jayden and Arthur, the other matches began. Melissa Rothchild, with her affinity for fire, nature, and ice magic, squared off against her senior—a wind mage with a strong reputation. Unlike Arthur and Jayden's quick victories, Melissa's match was more of a drawn-out contest of spells. She struggled initially, barely keeping up with the relentless wind spells her opponent unleashed, but as the battle wore on, she found her rhythm. Her ability to combine elements was impressive, creating fiery tornadoes and freezing gusts that turned the tide in her favor. Though she didn't win as decisively, she managed to claim victory after a hard-fought battle.

Elana Blackwood's match followed a similar pattern. Her elemental control of ice, water, and earth gave her a solid defense, and while she wasn't as aggressive as Arthur or Jayden, her patience and tactical thinking earned her a win. She relied on attrition, slowly wearing down her opponent until they had no choice but to surrender.

Then there was Marcus Morningstar, who took the stage with an air of arrogance. His reputation as a genius was well known, but there was always something sinister about him. He faced a senior who wielded lightning magic, but Marcus's mastery of ice, fire, wind, earth, and darkus magic made him a dangerous opponent. His match was a brutal display of power, and though he won, there was an unsettling intensity to his fighting style—like he enjoyed overpowering his opponents far too much.

Other notable students took their turns as well, and while some fought valiantly, not all were as successful. A few managed to draw their matches, while others were overpowered and forced to concede. Some students gave up early, not wanting to risk injury in a fight they knew they couldn't win. Though surrendering would affect their ranking, they seemed more concerned with preserving their bodies rather than testing their limits.

By the end of the sparring tests, it was clear that the main cast had lived up to their reputations. Arthur and Jayden were the undisputed stars of the day, but everyone who made it through had earned their place, proving their worth as the future heroes and warriors of the academy.

Many of the representatives from the great families, dressed in fine attire befitting their prestigious statuses, sat in the viewing stands, their sharp eyes fixed on the matches below. The colors and sigils of their houses adorned their robes, each vying to showcase their influence. Some were nobles from renowned bloodlines, while others were wealthy merchants and influential politicians. They whispered among themselves, exchanging insights and making mental notes of potential alliances.

Alongside them were members of various guilds, clad in more practical yet finely crafted uniforms that indicated their professions—weapon guilds, mage associations, and mercenary bands. Their expressions were serious, eyes darting between the students as they silently evaluated the skills on display, particularly those who might one day serve their ranks.

Seated amongst them were military officers of the Holy Empire, their medals glinting under the light. They sat with a composed but calculating air, discussing quietly with one another. They were not just watching for raw talent, but for signs of leadership, discipline, and loyalty—qualities needed to command in the battlefield.

Every match was an opportunity for these observers to spot future knights, mages, and leaders who could one day join their ranks or, perhaps, even ascend to positions of power within their guilds or military. Whispers of admiration and interest filled the air, with many leanings forward when someone particularly promising stepped into the arena.

As I waited for my name to be called, I could feel the adrenaline building inside me. This was the moment I had been anticipating—and dreading. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, and I took a deep breath, reminding myself that passing this test was crucial. I wasn't just fighting to prove myself; I was fighting to earn my place in the academy, to secure my future in the hunter's field.

This was it—the final test.

This was one of those tests meant to bring the arrogant elite down to earth. The rich, noble families often sheltered their children, and many of them grew up like frogs in a well, unaware of the wider world's true challenges. By forcing them to face their first real defeat at the hands of their seniors, just a few years older yet worlds ahead in experience, the academy intended to show them how far they had to go to satisfy their standards. Those seniors, honed by the academy's rigorous training and already battle-tested, were here to break the illusion of superiority held by the entitled and arrogant students.

The academy allowed students to forfeit this part of the test—an option many from commoner backgrounds or those in non-combat streams often took. They knew they couldn't hope to match the raw power and refined skills of those seasoned second-year students. For many, this test was more about survival than victory.

The stadium around us reminded me of the ancient Roman Colosseum, with its towering walls and stone seats, an arena built for both glory and humiliation. In the stands above, the headmaster sat on the highest platform, flanked by the academy's deans, teachers, and other key faculty members. Their presence was palpable, especially the headmaster's, a figure who loomed larger than life.

For a moment, I swore our eyes met, and it sent a shiver down my spine. The headmaster was an unparalleled genius, much like Arthur, capable of wielding all the elements. In the novel, it was said he was the strongest human on the central continent, an individual who had long surpassed normal limitations, the one and only person deemed fit to claim the title of 'wizard king'. He was also one of the few who had detected the creeping influence of demonic forces in the continent, but he had been unable to act due to the interference of the current Sage of Time—another mysterious figure who controlled the threads of fate.