The arena once used for swordsmanship trials was occupied by Revian, however, this time, he was in the crowd instead of the platform where two individuals fought.
The booming sound of the people surrounding him was enough to make his stomach churn and his throat fill with bile, his detest for sound urging him to get up and leave the arena.
Yet he resisted the shaking of his limbs, focusing on the person in the center of the chaos all the students of the university in the third year were producing.
"Alright, quiet, quiet." She said, her voice amplified by a horn enshrouded in runes beyond Revian's understanding. "We're already behind on time for the other students."
Stepping forward towards the crowd, she raised her hand up, a large projection appearing just a few feet overhead with script large enough for all to see.
"As you all have acclimated to at this point, you've had a number of class assessment trials to determine your ranking in this university. Among them were the study of beasts, tactical insight, and the combat arts. Above will be your individual performance numbers and your class ranking."
Revian looked over at three panels divided amongst the same projection, each towering with over a thousand names.
While he could turn and see that some of the students beside him started from the bottom up in search of their names, he hadn't needed but a single moment's glance to find his.
And this was because his name was at the top for all three.
He could feel the envying gazes cutting through across the stadium from a plethora of students, but he paid them no mind, simply looking down with the same blank expression he always had.
In opposition to the stoic reputation he'd built, however, he couldn't hide the smile creeping along the corners of his mouth as his cheeks blushed in a subtle red.
"I've only given you a moment to look over your own rankings, but I need to return to the lecture so we can get back on schedule. As I'm sure you all know, your class rankings are determined by your performances in the assessment tests, and your diplomas will be marked with the class you graduate from. I don't believe I need to re-iterate the importance of graduating top of your class, since all major innovators and nobles are Class A alumni."
The crowd roared into a stampede, the stomping of feet reverberating through the floor as violent vibrations that traveled through Revian's heel and strung his bones.
He reeled in response, raising his feet and arms while biting back the impulse to scream at everyone to stop.
"Hah, I know that you guys are excited and I don't mean to cut into your anticipation, but I have to say this anyway. Considering the distribution of students, you are more likely to be in one of the lower classes than to graduate at the top, and as the year closes in, your position amongst the pecking order becomes more and more concrete." The crowd was quiet now, a vying attentiveness for her words squelching the students of their speech. "Just know that even if you don't graduate from Class A, there are still a number of jobs and opportunities granted just from a diploma from the University of Velmira, independent of class."
There was a prolonged moment of silence, some students peeking over past the water to look where the professor stood, more willing to listen.
It stayed like this as the professor talked in depth about the finer details of life after school and the bright future that this group of kids had. The sun's radiance that caressed Revian's face and reminded him of the daybreak slowly settled, half of it barely hidden beneath the trees and buildings surrounding the stadium.
"You guys are ready to go home, right?" She asked as she looked down at a block of paper that she'd been running through all throughout her speech. "There's just this one little challenge you have to do... you guys remember, don't you?"
The surrounding air burned at the screams of the crowd, the students jumping around with newfound vigor.
"The last remaining trial of assessment--your new magic trial!"
The professor smiled beneath her spectacles, letting the students' cheers die down before she continued.
"This trial will be short. One by one, each of you will step forward and activate your assigned magic using the awakening sigil. Once activated, your name and your magic will appear above you for all to see, and our scribes will record it for your future instructors."
A long podium rose from the ground, runes glowing along its rim as dozens of professors began filing into seats behind it. One of them held a slate etched with glowing circles, slowly pulsing.
"Don't worry," she said, waving her hands. "It's not a test of power--only recognition."
But Revian already knew the truth. Everyone did.
This was the moment that determined status. The moment the entire kingdom watched for every year--who got fire, who got lightning, who got shadow or storm or some other god-blessed art.
And who didn't.
The first student stepped up. A girl with curly hair and confident steps placed her hand on the stone pedestal. A ring of gold spiraled up her arm, and a moment later, the air shimmered.
"Mirei Asten – Glacial Glyphcraft."
The crowd cheered.
One after another, students followed.
"Valkus Redan – Ironblood."
"Yuvane Sel – Zephyr Burst."
Each name rang out above their heads like thunder.
Revian sat motionless as the line began shrinking. His stomach twisted tighter with each passing success. Veyric had long since been called--his projection had revealed a rare form of mimicry magic, which he'd celebrated with excessive flair and a whoop loud enough to be heard over the crowd.
"Hey, buddy, did you see? I got a rare magic! From the look of things, we're both going to stay in Class A."
Veyric had spoken to Revian, his teeth showing from the large smile on his face as he patted Revian on the shoulder, turning back to look at the next student's reading.
With each successful passing on of magic, Revien could sense a shift in the pecking order. The one where he stood on top.
And then…
"Revian Corvus."
Revian didn't respond to Veyric--he didn't even look at him. He only walked down towards the detection device with haphazard fear in his limbs and even face.
The entire arena hushed. Not out of respect--out of curiosity. He was first in every category. His fight had made the highlight reels. Everyone wanted to see it. What would the Silent Knight awaken?
He placed his hand on the sigil.
A pause.
Then another.
The light around him didn't swirl or spiral—it twitched. A small ripple in the air, like someone disturbing a shallow pond. Then the projection screen above flickered once… twice… and finally, his name appeared.
"Revian Corvus – Float."
There was a beat of silence.
Then came the laughter.
It started as a snort from the back. Then a chuckle. Then dozens. Then hundreds.
"Float?" someone wheezed. "You mean like… float?! Like a feather?"
A voice barked from the left side: "Guess the Silent Knight really is just airheaded!"
Revian's throat locked. His hand was still on the pedestal. The glow had vanished. There was no magical wind, no aura, no power. Nothing but the word, 'float', staring back at him like a curse.
He turned away from the pedestal, his face blank.
But the blush that had crept into his cheeks earlier from pride… now boiled into humiliation.
He walked back up the steps and returned to his seat. No one cheered. No one reached out. Even Veyric looked like he didn't know what to say.
Revian stared forward.
Expressionless.
All around him, the noise returned. People whispered and pointed, some laughing loudly while others offered only muted glances. A few tried to suppress their grins, pretending to be polite, but none succeeded. The moment had branded itself into everyone's memory.
In the crowd, someone began humming mockingly, drifting up in pitch like a feather on a breeze. The chant caught on.
"Floooat... floooat..."
Revian lowered his head.
The sun that had once warmed his back now felt distant, tucked behind a veil of clouds.
He had never felt so cold.
And the trial was just beginning.