We're here!" shouted the man at the front of the wagon as the horses came to a stop.
The travelers began climbing down one by one. Felthart followed soon after, stepping onto the dirt road. Before him stretched a vast city bustling with life.
"So this is Melino City," he murmured, eyes reflecting the towering walls and countless buildings. After a moment of silent awe, he began walking away from the drop-off point. "Now… where's Emberhaven?"
The streets twisted endlessly. Crowds passed by in a blur of merchants, carriages, and chatter.
"Damn, this city's too big. Maybe I should ask someone for directions," he muttered.
He spotted a girl around his age and approached her. "Hey, excuse me. Can you tell me where Emberhaven is?"
Before she could respond, shadows moved from a nearby alley.
"Well, well… what do we have here?" sneered a man as several shady figures stepped out.
The girl's face stiffened. "Get away from me! It's not safe!"
Felthart gave her a blank stare. "You stand back," he said calmly, stepping between her and the men.
"Oh, you're brave, kid," one of the men said, grinning. "Judging from your clothes, you've got some coins on you. Hand them over—unless you want this to get ugly."
"Trust me," the girl whispered, "just let them do what they want."
Felthart didn't move. "No. We're not giving you anything."
"Tch. I tried being nice!" one of the thugs spat, lunging at him.
---
Minutes Later
All the men lay groaning on the ground.
"Wow… that was amazing," the girl said, staring wide-eyed.
Felthart brushed off his sleeves. "It wasn't that big of a deal. Now—can you tell me where Emberhaven is?"
"Wait, you're going to Emberhaven too? Then let's go together!" she said, grabbing his arm. "It's actually in those woods up ahead. Oh, and what's your name?"
"Felthart," he replied, sighing. "And slow down. What's the rush?"
"Alright then, Felt," she said with a grin. "I'm Tenalia—but call me Tena."
"I didn't ask for your name," he muttered, "but fine. And what did you mean earlier—'just let them do what they want'?"
"You'll see soon enough, Felt," she said mysteriously as they approached a massive gate.
An elderly man dressed in refined clothing hurried toward them. "Miss Tenalia! Where have you been? The ceremony has already begun!"
"Yes, yes, we're going, Welldock!" Tena said cheerfully as they entered.
"Wait—who's that boy? He can't just enter!" one of the guards barked, eyeing Felthart suspiciously.
Felthart reached into his coat and pulled out a small card—the one Nolan had given him two years ago.
The guard froze. "Oh, my apologies, sir. You may enter."
Welldock's eyes widened. That's a recommendation card from the Headmaster himself…? Then that boy—he was chosen personally?
"Come on, Felt! We're already late because of you!" Tena shouted, grabbing his hand and pulling him forward again.
---
Emberhaven was far grander than Felthart imagined. Spires of white stone, shimmering banners, and fountains infused with mana lined the courtyard.
"So this is Emberhaven," Felthart whispered. "It's… enormous."
Inside the main hall, hundreds of students gathered. A man on stage tried to quiet the crowd.
"Alright, simmer down, everyone! The Headmaster will speak shortly!"
Felthart's eyes widened as an old man approached the voice crystal on stage. Wait… that's the same old man from two years ago…
The Headmaster smiled faintly. "Welcome to Emberhaven. Some of you were recommended by our faculty, others entered through application and coin. In total, there are five hundred of you. But…" His tone darkened. "Only one hundred and twenty will remain after the entrance ceremony."
A ripple of unease spread through the crowd.
A man with silver hair stood beside him and bowed. "If I may, Headmaster, I'll explain the first round."
The Headmaster nodded and stepped back.
"The first round," said the silver-haired man, "will be one-on-one matches—two hundred and fifty duels in total. Losing doesn't mean elimination, but the victors will earn higher scores. Look up to the sky projection to see your matchups."
Felthart looked up. "Let's see who I'm fighting…"
His eyes widened. "Wait. I'm fighting her?"
Tena turned toward him with a playful grin. "Felt, Felt… looks like we're opponents. How sad."
"Yeah. What a shame," he sighed. "Probably because we were late together."
---
As the matches began, students filled the stands of Emberhaven's grand training arena.
"After this next match, the fifty-first duel will be between Tenalia Venchen and Felthart!" the announcer's voice echoed.
"I guess we're up," Tena said, tightening her gloves.
In a preparation room nearby, a man wearing goggles greeted Felthart. "So, you're Felthart. What kind of weapon do you use?"
Felthart eyed him. "Who are you?"
"My name's Aled. I'm one of the instructors here—Fifth-Level Wood Elemental user. I'll be crafting the wooden replicas for your match." He grinned. "So, what'll it be?"
So he's the one who made those finely crafted wooden weapons everyone's been using, Felthart thought.
He pulled out two daggers. "Something like these."
Aled studied them carefully, then nodded. "Understood."
---
Moments later, Felthart and Tena stood facing each other in the arena. The crowd roared above them.
These wooden daggers are incredible, Felthart thought, gripping them tightly.
"Let's not hold back, Felt," Tena said with a smile.
"Now then—let the match begin!" came the announcement.
Tena dashed forward—barehanded.
Wait, no weapon? Felthart thought in surprise.
He countered swiftly, slashing with precision, but Tena dodged each strike effortlessly. As she slipped past his final swing, Felthart feinted and caught her with a kick that sent her flying backward. She landed, dust swirling, and stood as if nothing had happened.
Before he could react, she blurred forward, driving a punch into his stomach. The impact threw him against the arena wall.
She's stronger than I thought. He clenched his jaw. Fine… I'll use my ice. No lightning this time—not as Felthart.
He exhaled, mist spilling from his breath as the temperature dropped.
Tena shivered. "Why does it suddenly feel cold?"
Felthart moved—swift as a storm. His daggers shimmered blue as he unleashed Ice Slash, a tenth-level elemental technique. Tena barely avoided the blade and lunged behind him, swinging her fist—only for Felthart to block it just in time.
He plunged his daggers into the ground. Frost surged outward.
Ice Terrain. Ninth-level field technique.
Gasps filled the stands. "That kid used a level nine field move?!"
The arena froze over, but Tena didn't stop. Even as her movements slowed, she charged through the cold and struck. Her arm wrapped around Felthart's neck in a tight hold. As he tried to break free, a strange mark on his arm glowed. Pain shot through his body—his vision blurred, and blood dripped from his lips.
Then, silence.
The ice vanished.
"The winner is Miss Tenalia Venchen!" the announcer declared.
---
When Felthart opened his eyes, a faint light glowed through the infirmary curtains.
"Where… am I?" he groaned.
"You're awake, Felt!" Tena said, sitting beside him with a grin.
"So… I lost, huh?" he sighed.
"Yeah, but you still have a chance," she said brightly.
"Easy for you to say." He turned to her. "What did you use on me, anyway?"
Tena smirked. "My Force Element is Undead. It automatically boosts my physical abilities and endurance. The move I used was Pain Share, a technique passed down in my family. Basically, every hit you landed on me—I reflected that pain back at you. Since your endurance isn't enhanced, it hit you harder. I can only use it twice a week, though."
"I see…" Felthart exhaled, still sore. "So when's the next round?"
"The day after tomorrow," she said, smiling. "It's going to be a written exam."
Felthart stared at the ceiling. "Great…"
---