The tension inside the massive hall was electric. Hundreds of examinees stood in straight rows beneath the banners of the Magic Knight Captains, each representing one of the kingdom's prestigious squads.
The air hummed faintly with residual mana — the kind of heavy atmosphere that only came from being surrounded by some of the strongest mages in the Clover Kingdom.
At the front, a Magic Knight official stepped forward, voice ringing clear and formal through the hall.
"Listen carefully! When your number is called, step forward. If a captain raises their hand, you are selected to join their squad. If multiple captains raise their hands, you may choose which squad to enter."
He paused briefly, gaze sweeping over the nervous crowd.
"However— if no captain raises their hand, you are not selected. Step back immediately and leave the stage."
A quiet murmur spread among the hopefuls. The rules were simple — brutal, but fair.
A silence fell as eyes turned toward the raised platform at the far end — where the Magic Knight Captains stood in a commanding line.
Each one radiated power, authority, and personality so distinct it felt like standing before living embodiments of magic itself.
Fuegoleon Vermillion, Captain of the Crimson Lion Kings — tall, proud, with calm fire in his gaze. Discipline incarnate.
Nozel Silva, Captain of the Silver Eagles — aristocratic and sharp, his silver hair immaculate, his mana pressure cold and regal.
William Vangeance, Captain of the Golden Dawn — his wooden mask concealing his face, posture immaculate, his presence calm yet commanding.
Charlotte Roselei, Captain of the Blue Rose Knights — her beauty as striking as her composure, gaze sharp as steel under her long blue braid.
Jack the Ripper, Captain of the Green Mantis — lean, grinning, eyes gleaming with a dangerous kind of excitement.
Gueldre Poizot, Captain of the Purple Orcas — smug and calculating, his expression hidden behind his half-shadowed face.
Rill Boismortier, the young prodigy and Captain of the Aqua Deer — his eyes bright with artistic curiosity, clearly enjoying the show.
Dorothy Unsworth, Captain of the Coral Peacocks — fast asleep on her feet, hat tilted, her quiet snoring barely audible even here.
Kaiser Granvorka, Captain of the Gray Deer — calm, older, his eyes faintly glowing with wind mana, watching everything silently.
And finally, slouching at the farthest end of the line, smoke curling lazily around his head, stood Yami Sukehiro, Captain of the Black Bulls — the picture of a man who didn't care about decorum but exuded menace and power all the same.
Nine captains. Nine symbols of authority. Each of them could level a mountain — and right now, every hopeful mage in the room prayed one of them would raise a hand for their number.
The official began to call out names.
One by one, nervous examinees stepped forward — some trembling, some putting on brave faces. Nobles got polite nods or immediate selections. Commoners mostly stepped back in disappointment. The pattern was merciless but expected.
Then came the turning point.
"Number 164 — Yuno!"
Whispers erupted instantly.
The boy with the four-leaf clover grimoire stepped forward — calm, poised, his wind gently brushing against his cloak.
The hall went dead silent. Every captain's gaze sharpened.
And then — as one —
every single captain raised their hand.
The air exploded with disbelief.
"All of them?!"
"Even Captain Vengeance and Captain Charlotte?!"
"That's never happened before!"
Asta, standing further down the line, pumped his fist and shouted from the crowd, "YUNO!! THAT'S MY RIVAL! HELL YEAH!!"
Yuno just smiled faintly, steady as ever, and looked straight at the captains.
"I choose the Golden Dawn."
Murmurs rippled through the spectators.
"Golden Dawn?! That squad only accepts nobles!"
"He's a commoner, right? How—?"
"Captain Vangeance himself raised his hand first!"
William Vangeance simply nodded once, extending his hand. "Welcome, Yuno. I look forward to your growth."
Yuno bowed slightly, calm and confident, before stepping aside.
Asta's grin stretched ear to ear. "Alright! My turn's next! Just you wait — I'm gonna shock everyone too!"
The official turned another page on his parchment and raised his voice.
"Number 165 — Asta!"
The crowd's attention shifted immediately.
Asta stepped forward boldly, shoulders squared, eyes blazing with determination. The tension was thick — the memory of his duel still fresh in everyone's minds.
A few seconds passed in silence.
Then, one by one… several captains raised their hands.
First Rill, his eyes lighting up in artistic wonder. Then Yami, grinning wide, puffing smoke. Then Fuegoleon, ever composed, intrigued by the boy's grit. Even Charlotte's brow lifted slightly before she, too, raised her hand.
And finally — shockingly — William Vangeance raised his.
The hall gasped collectively.
"He got picked?! By that many captains?!"
"Even the Golden Dawn captain raised his hand!"
"That's insane!"
Asta's jaw dropped, disbelief flashing into sheer joy. "NO WAY—! THEY ACTUALLY PICKED ME?!"
He turned toward Yuno's direction, laughing uncontrollably. "YUNO! LOOK! I DID IT TOO!"
The crowd began murmuring in awe and confusion — but before Asta could even celebrate properly, a cold, sneering voice cut sharply through the noise.
"Wait a moment!"
The entire room froze.
From the examinees' side, a noble youth stepped forward — tall, smug, and dripping with arrogance. His voice echoed with the certainty of someone born entitled.
"Before you make that mistake, Captains — I believe there's something you should know about that boy."
The crowd went silent again. Even the captains turned slightly, their expressions shifting from curiosity to irritation.
The noble smirked, voice dripping venom.
"Throughout the entire exam, not once did we sense a single drop of mana from him. And yet, he performed with explosive power and impossible speed."
He gestured toward Asta accusingly.
"That's not magic. That's cheating. The artifact he used — that strange red-and-black weapon — it's not magic-born. It's a tool. An illegal device. He used it to deceive you all!"
The hall erupted in whispers and gasps.
"No mana? Yeah I also cannot sense a single drop of mana inside him."
"Then how did he cast spells?"
"Is that thing even magic?"
"Did he trick the system?!"
Asta's expression fell, shock freezing him in place. "Huh?! Wait, what?! I didn't cheat! I just fought fair and square!"
But his words were drowned out by the growing noise — the whispers, the uncertainty, the doubt spreading like wildfire through the room.
Even some captains frowned, exchanging uncertain glances. On the royal platform, the King leaned forward, brows furrowed in mild confusion.
The tension was thick — until a calm, measured voice sliced clean through the noise.
"Does it matter whether he has mana or not?"
The calm yet sharp voice echoed through the hall, cutting through the noise like a blade through silk. The crowd stilled instantly, turning toward its source — and then, the light dimmed.
A faint ripple passed over the ground as shadows surged outward, spreading from behind Asta's feet like liquid smoke. The air grew heavier, the temperature dipping just enough for everyone to feel the shift.
From the heart of that darkness, a tall figure emerged — calm, poised, and radiating quiet dominance. His boots echoed softly against the stone floor as he stepped into view beside Asta, the shadows folding back into him like obedient servants.
Nova Ashbourne.
A low hum of murmurs swept across the room — whispers spreading like wildfire the moment his name was recognized.
But before those voices could grow louder, the air itself changed.
A sudden, overwhelming surge of mana erupted from Nova, crashing through the hall like a silent shockwave. The pressure was suffocating yet controlled — a force that demanded silence without needing to say a word.
The marble floor beneath him faintly cracked; mana lamps flickered overhead. Every single person — nobles, officials, even a few captains — felt their mana recoil instinctively, shrinking away from the sheer density of his presence.
The chatter died instantly.
It wasn't wild or uncontrolled; it was precise, refined dominance — the kind of power that made it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to look away.
Standing in that hall suddenly felt like standing before a storm about to break — still, cold, and terrifyingly certain.
Soon the terrifying mana vanished and Asta blinked up at him, wide-eyed and startled. "N-Nova?"
Nova didn't glance his way. His gaze remained fixed ahead, cold and unflinching as it swept across the captains' dais and then toward the trembling noble who had spoken.
"Does it matter," he repeated, voice smooth but heavy with restrained authority, "whether this boy has mana or not?"
The noble stammered, caught off guard by the sheer pressure of that gaze. "O-Of course it does! M-magic is—"
Nova cut him off without raising his voice. "He holds a grimoire."
The simple statement echoed louder than a shout.
"That alone proves legitimacy. Grimoires do not choose frauds, nor can they be forced to bind to anyone unworthy. They answer only to those the magic itself deems fit."
He took a slow step forward. The shadows beneath him shifted with the movement, curling faintly around his boots.
"As for the artifact you claim he used — it's grimoire-bound. It responded to his mana signature, his will, and his synchronization alone. You all saw it yourself. It's not separate — it's part of his casting medium."
The crowd grew silent again. Even some captains straightened, watching him closely.
Nova's eyes moved briefly toward them. His tone was calm, almost conversational, but carried a weight that made the nobles flinch.
"So unless you're suggesting the grimoire system itself is broken, or that the Clover Kingdom's divine relics can be deceived…"
He smiled faintly — a calm, cutting edge in that expression.
"I'd suggest you think before calling cheating what you simply don't understand."
The noble's face turned pale. His mouth opened — and closed again.
Even the captains exchanged subtle looks. Fuegoleon's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Nozel remained silent but intrigued. Yami smirked, letting out a short, amused exhale. "Heh. Well said, kid."
Nova stepped back beside Asta, his aura easing slightly, though the faint pressure still lingered. "Next time," he said softly, voice low enough only Asta could hear, "try letting your results speak before your mouth does."
Asta blinked, then broke into a relieved grin. "R-right… got it."
Nova's shadows receded entirely, fading like mist into nothing — but the weight of his words remained, hanging heavy in the hall.
No one spoke for several seconds. Then, finally, the Magic Knight official cleared his throat and called out again, voice trembling slightly.
"A-Asta of Hage! Please choose your squad…"
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" Black Bulls!"
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CHAPTER:- [135 - REVERSAL] IS AVAILABLE ON MY P@TREON