The sun was already high when they reached the Academy grounds.
A golden light spilled across the marble steps and towering spires of the Etherion Academy, its presence vast enough to make even the strongest hearts waver. The air itself seemed to hum with condensed mana, rich and intoxicating, swirling in invisible layers above the great gates.
They were late.
Caelum could tell from the stillness—thousands of heads turned toward the gates, thousands of eyes watching as the massive obsidian doors began to part with a slow, thunderous groan. Dust and mana shimmered in the sunlight as the creaking echoed across the vast square.
Every student, aspirant, and observer paused.
Because through that opened gate walked two figures.
The first—a boy, perhaps sixteen or seventeen, with calm steps that didn't match his age. His black hair brushed his collar, faintly disheveled from the road, and his eyes—too still, too knowing—reflected the sun like quiet mirrors. He looked human, but not quite. Something in the air around him was subtly wrong—the kind of wrong that drew the eye and refused to let go.
Beside him walked a man in crimson-black attire, coat tails fluttering behind him. The faint trace of fangs gleamed when he spoke softly to the boy. To the untrained eye, he looked like a noble. But to those who knew, the aura he carried could only belong to one thing.
A vampire.
Whispers rose like wind through dry leaves.
"Who are they?"
"They came after the gates closed."
"Wait—he's walking with a vampire?!"
And then, the man standing at the center of the great plaza—a tall figure draped in a ceremonial robe, his face carved with years of discipline—suddenly froze. His eyes widened when he saw the vampire, then curved into a sharp, delighted smile.
"Oh, finally," he said, voice ringing with relief. "We've waited far too long to begin!"
He strode down the marble platform, robes sweeping the air, and met the vampire halfway. The crowd went utterly silent as the two exchanged a few low words, too soft to catch, before the man turned toward the gathered masses.
In that silence, realization bloomed.
"He's the one in charge of the ceremony?"
"That vampire… he's not just some noble."
"He must be—someone important."
All eyes shifted again—to the quiet boy standing just beside him.
He didn't wear armor. Didn't flaunt weapons or jewelry. His clothing was plain, dusted from travel. But there was something unsettling in his stillness—like a calm ocean that could drown continents if it stirred. His presence felt human, yet there was a lingering taste of something wild, something that didn't belong to any known race.
The murmurs thickened with curiosity.
---
Then V stepped forward.
The shift in the air was immediate. His usual lazy elegance melted away, replaced by a cold, crushing presence that rolled across the plaza like a storm. The smile was gone. His eyes burned like molten gold as his voice filled the entire expanse.
"You have all come from different worlds," he began. "Some of you are slaves, dragged here in the hope of serving stronger masters. Some are noble-born, here to prove the worth of your family names. Some crawl from the gutters, and some come seeking greatness you will never reach."
His words fell like hammers, cracking pride and stripping illusion.
"But you are all the same in one way—you are not yet worthy."
A collective murmur rippled through the crowd. Even Caelum, standing just beside him, felt the oppressive weight of his mana pressing down.
It was the first time he'd seen V like this. Gone was the smirking, laid-back creature who teased and toyed with words. This was something else entirely—something ancient, commanding, and lethal. Caelum's fingers twitched instinctively. Good thing I didn't try killing him in his sleep, he thought dryly.
V's gaze swept over the crowd. "The first step," he continued, "is reduction. You are too many. This world does not need so many who call themselves the 'talented.' So, the first challenge is simple—survive, and prove you deserve to stand here."
The ground beneath their feet trembled lightly as thousands of glowing plates appeared, floating in the air. Each one shimmered with faint light, engraved with runes that pulsed in sync with the Academy's mana veins.
"This," V said, raising his hand, "is your key. Your Plague Seal. Inject your mana into it. It will bind to you—and should you find yourself too weak to continue, inject it again, and it will pull you out alive but eliminated."
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "You will be transported into the Forbiddance Grove. It is a controlled simulation forest, one that tests your body, mana, and will. Do not underestimate it."
"Your task is to survive for one full day."
The plates descended, one by one, into waiting hands. The air buzzed with anticipation and fear.
As Caelum caught his, it pulsed faintly—reacting almost instantly to his touch. The green veins within it shimmered like living roots, spreading out until the entire plate glowed with his mana signature.
And then—
"Are you ready?"
The voice thundered across the plaza, sharp and resonant. Everyone looked up, thinking V was speaking to the entire crowd. But Caelum could feel it—the heavy gaze fixed directly on him.
He met V's golden eyes and, for the briefest second, a silent current passed between them.
A test.
A challenge.
A question of readiness neither needed to speak aloud.
The crowd erupted in shouts.
"Yeah!"
"We're ready!"
"Let's go!"
V smiled faintly. It wasn't comforting—it was the smile of someone watching lambs walk willingly into a storm.
Caelum's fingers tightened around his plate, and his lips curved slightly as the mana beneath the plaza began to hum.
The gates behind them sealed with a deep, echoing boom.
The test had begun.