Aiden's team lay sprawled across the ground, unconscious. Blood trickled from their wounds, mixing with the dirt beneath them. The aftermath of Leon's rampage was painted across the battlefield—bodies of students groaning in pain, some unable to move, others clutching shattered limbs. The eerie silence that followed his destruction was only broken by the ragged breathing of those who remained conscious enough to feel fear.
Leon Aaldric stood amidst the wreckage, his sword glistening with fresh blood. His gray eyes, sharp as a predator's, scanned the field. His bloodlust was still raging, his chest rising and falling steadily as if his body was unwilling to let go of the thrill of battle.
Aiden, Elara, Xaleth, Vael, and Lyra lay motionless, their weapons scattered around them. They had fought, they had struggled, but against the relentless force that was Leon, they had been nothing more than obstacles in his path.
The mist-shrouded forest was deathly quiet for only a moment before the sound of hurried footsteps approached. More students—drawn in by the chaos, hoping to scavenge whatever they could from the fallen warriors—emerged from the shadows.
They came in groups. Some held their weapons cautiously, others wore smug expressions as they eyed the Sigil pouches scattered across the battlefield. They saw the fallen fighters and assumed that the battle was already over.
A student wearing the crest of House Veylon grinned. "Looks like we got here at the perfect time. These fools put in the work, and we get to reap the rewards."
Another noble scoffed. "Typical. Let's just grab the Sigils and—"
His voice cut off when Leon shifted.
The moment their eyes landed on him, an instinctual fear gripped their hearts. His gaze, void of any warmth, locked onto them.
The student who had been speaking took a step back. "Wait… that guy… isn't he—"
Before the words could even leave his mouth, Leon moved.
A blur of steel.
A crunch of bone.
A scream.
The first student didn't even have time to react before Leon's knee drove into his stomach, folding him in half and launching him backward into a tree. The impact sent a shockwave through the forest, the force so strong that the bark cracked upon impact.
The other scavengers froze.
"Get him!" One of them yelled, panic setting in.
They rushed forward, a dozen students brandishing swords, spears, and spells. But against Leon, it was meaningless.
A wave of fire erupted toward him—he sidestepped effortlessly. A spear lunged for his side—he grabbed it mid-thrust, yanking its wielder forward before slamming his elbow into their skull. Another student attempted to strike from behind, but Leon's blade carved through the air before they could even blink. Blood sprayed across the dirt.
One by one, they fell.
The battlefield that had once been filled with hopeful scavengers turned into yet another graveyard of the defeated. The students who had come seeking easy prey found themselves the hunted, their desperate cries echoing through the mist.
Leon didn't stop. He cut through them all, a storm of unrelenting power. A sword strike shattered a defensive barrier like it was paper. A kick sent a mage flying into the treetops, their body limp before they even hit the ground. The last remaining student—a boy no older than Aiden—stumbled backward, dropping his weapon.
Leon loomed over him.
The boy raised his hands, trembling. "P-please… I—"
Leon's sword flashed.
A gust of wind howled through the trees. The boy collapsed, not from a fatal wound, but from sheer terror as the blade stopped just inches from his throat. His body shook violently as he lost all strength in his legs.
Leon's gaze lingered on him for a moment before he exhaled sharply and turned away.
The battlefield was silent once more.
Leon scanned the area, his gaze landing on the scattered Sigil pouches that had fallen during the fights. He took a slow step forward, reaching down—only to simply pick up one of the fallen Sigils, staring at it with unreadable eyes.
Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed it to the ground. One by one, he did the same with the rest of the Sigils, letting them fall where they lay.
He had no interest in them.
He had no interest in this trial.
Leon Aaldric turned and walked away, leaving behind a battlefield drenched in blood, fallen students, and an untouched bounty of Sigils.
The unconscious bodies of Aiden and his team remained where they lay, unaware of the storm that had passed through them. And as the mist swallowed Leon's figure, only one thing was clear—
He was, without question, the strongest student in the University.
Aiden groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. His body ached all over, and his head felt as if it had been struck by a hammer. His vision blurred momentarily before sharpening, revealing the night sky above. Faint moonlight seeped through the canopy of trees, casting eerie shadows over the battlefield.
"Ugh… what the hell happened?" Aiden muttered, forcing himself up with shaky arms.
Beside him, Xaleth stirred, a hand clutching his side. "That bastard… Leon…" he grumbled, barely able to sit up.
Elara, Lyra, and Vael were also regaining consciousness, their faces twisted in pain and confusion. They had been utterly crushed. None of them had ever faced such overwhelming dominance before. Leon wasn't just strong—he was a monster.
Aiden's breathing steadied as he took in the scene before him. The battlefield was… silent.
No groans of injured students. No footsteps. No movement. Just complete and utter stillness.
His gaze shifted downward, and his eyes widened in shock.
Right in front of them lay a massive pile of Arcane Sigils, scattered across the dirt like discarded trinkets. More sigils than they could count, glowing faintly in the dark.
"What… is this?" Elara whispered, still dazed.
Lyra crawled forward, running her fingers through the sigils. "These are... all of them," she muttered in disbelief.
Aiden slowly stood, his legs still wobbly. His heartbeat quickened. Something felt off.
He turned his gaze beyond the clearing—and his stomach dropped.
The forest floor was littered with bodies.
Dozens of students lay sprawled out across the ground, unconscious. Some had their weapons shattered beside them, others bore bruises and cuts, and all were completely motionless. It was like a massacre had occurred, yet not a single drop of blood had been spilled.
Vael gulped. "He did all of this?"
Xaleth's face darkened. "That wasn't just a fight. That was an execution."
Aiden clenched his fists, memories of the battle flashing in his mind. Leon hadn't just defeated them. He had toyed with them. Destroyed them. Even after Aiden's team had fought with everything they had, Leon still stood above them, untouched.
Elara turned to Aiden, her expression filled with unease. "Did he… leave all these sigils for us?"
Aiden looked down at the scattered sigils once more. The weight of them—both physically and symbolically—settled deep in his chest.
Leon had knocked out every opponent, taken all their sigils, and then... left them here.
He didn't take them.
He didn't even care.
Aiden let out a breath. "Let's just grab them and go."
No one argued. One by one, they gathered the sigils, stuffing them into their pouches. The weight of them felt heavier than it should.
As they began their journey toward the exit, the silence remained, only broken by the sound of their footsteps.
With every few steps, they passed more fallen students, their unconscious forms a chilling reminder of the storm that had torn through the battlefield.
And that storm had a name.
Leon Aaldric
As they stepped through the portal marking the trial's conclusion, they were instantly transported back into the grand Arcane Arena, where a massive crowd of students and professors awaited them.
The moment they appeared, a sudden silence fell over the arena.
Then—
Thunderous applause erupted.
"Look! They're the first team to make it out!"
"They must have dominated the trial!"
"How many sigils did they even get?!"
Aiden's team looked at each other, slightly dazed. They won?
At the front of the stage, the Dean stepped forward, raising a hand to silence the cheers.
"Congratulations to the first team to exit the Arcane Dominion Trial!" His voice boomed across the stadium. "As per the rules, the first team to leave with the highest sigil count is considered the victors!"
More applause followed. Aiden looked around, seeing familiar faces in the crowd—some of their past opponents, some of their allies, and many who were still recovering from their fights.
But one face was missing.
Leon.
Before Aiden could process the thought, the professor's voice cut through the excitement.
"However…"
The crowd quieted.
"The Arcane Dominion Trial also awards points to the individual who collects the most sigils. And after reviewing the results…"
He took a deep breath.
"The true winner of this trial is—"
"Leon Aaldric."
A wave of murmurs, gasps, and stunned silence filled the arena.
Aiden's heart sank. Of course.
The Dean continued, "Leon Aaldric, despite exiting the trial later, amassed an overwhelming number of Arcane Sigils. By sheer individual merit, he stands as the strongest contender in this competition."
Aiden clenched his fists, his mind replaying the image of Leon standing amidst a battlefield of unconscious students. That guy… he really is on a completely different level.
A moment later, Leon walked into the arena.
The crowd turned to face him as he strode in, his cold, emotionless eyes scanning the field. His uniform was soaked in blood, but none of it was his own. He carried no sigils, but the weight of his presence made it clear who the real monster was.
The students who had fought him shrank back. Even the professors regarded him with interest—and caution.
Aiden exhaled sharply, gripping his sword.
I'm not strong enough.
Not yet.
But one day…
I will be.