High above us, a man with bulging muscles and a completely bald head floated effortlessly in the air. Even from this distance, the long blade scar stretching across his face was clear—a reminder of battles fought against monsters most of us had never even seen. The oppressive pressure he emitted forced many students to stiffen or subconsciously hold their breath.
A Star-rank awakener.
Someone who stood at the absolute peak of Novacter's strength.
Kael Vortan.Vice Principal of Novacter Academy and one of the strongest humans currently alive.
He swept his cold gaze across the sprawling sea of applicants. Nearly a million students stood gathered inside the massive arena—a structure over ten kilometers wide, built specifically to host this once-a-year event. With a wave of his hand, a layer of mana spread across the field, amplifying his voice so it reached every corner.
Kael spoke again, his tone calm yet carrying an undeniable authority.
"I am Kael Vortan. Some of you may know my name. I serve as Vice Principal of Novacter Academy. Today, I will guide you through the three stages of this entrance exam."
His words drew the attention of even the most arrogant applicants. A hush washed over the entire field as every student focused on him.
"The first level will be a written test. It will measure your fundamental knowledge, reasoning ability, adaptability, and basic understanding of Novacter, the Tower, and combat logic.
The second level is a duo exam. Those who pass the written test will be paired with a random partner and must clear an E-rank Rift together. This test will evaluate teamwork, survival instincts, and real-time battle judgment.
The third level is currently confidential. It will be revealed only after the second test is concluded."
Students exchanged nervous glances. A hidden stage always meant trouble.
Kael continued, voice steady and merciless.
"And remember—only one hundred thousand students will pass the first level. Only ten thousand will pass the second."
A wave of muffled shock and trembling anticipation swept across the arena. Some students tightened their fists; some swallowed nervously; others whispered prayers to gods whose names they didn't even know.
But Kael wasn't finished.
"You will soon be teleported into personal testing spaces. Mana will be sealed to prevent cheating through cognitive, psychic, or fate-related abilities. As you all know, this exam is being broadcast worldwide. Your families—and your domains—are watching."
Before even a second of chatter could rise, a colossal circle of glowing runes burst to life beneath our feet. My vision distorted, the world stretching like melted glass—
And in the next instant—
I was sitting inside a small white room.
The silence was absolute. All that existed was a desk, a chair, a single sheet of paper, and a hovering crystal that monitored everything.
A calm mechanical voice echoed:
"Rules and passing thresholds are listed on the first page. Your time begins… now."
I exhaled slowly and examined the questions.
As expected, the difficulty was extreme—designed to eliminate the majority immediately. Questions ranged from Tower ecology to mana theory, spatial logic, history of the three domains, elemental fundamentals, combat predictions, and even case studies from past disasters.
Only about 10% of applicants would have any chance of passing.
But for me?
This was simple.
I had read countless books during training—everything from mana theory to Tower survival psychology. Knowledge was the one thing I could safely show .
So I picked up the pen and began writing.
By the time fifty minutes passed, I had filled everything with clean, precise answers.
"I'm done," I said.
The white room dissolved, scattering into particles of light that washed over me like falling snow.
In the blink of an eye, I was back in the academy grounds.
Only a few students had returned this early—less than one percent of the field.
I scanned the crowd.
Aldric and Anastasia were already waiting, both relaxed and chatting casually. Their easy expressions made it clear they had finished long before me. Elyndria—unsurprisingly—sat with serene composure, not even slightly bothered.
Aldric waved me over enthusiastically.
I approached and asked how long they took.
"About forty to forty-five minutes," they said.
But what surprised me was the next revelation.
The Elven Princess had finished even earlier.
I simply nodded and took a seat on the bench.
One by one, students reappeared as their personal spaces collapsed. Nervous chatter filled the air—complaints about hard questions, celebrations of lucky guesses, and anxious worries of failure.
Eventually, the final minute passed.
And the arena filled completely with students once more.
Kael Vortan's voice thundered across the sky.
"Those who failed will now be removed from the academy grounds."
A dazzling magic circle enveloped the entire arena.
In less than a heartbeat, hundreds of thousands of students vanished—teleported outside Hope City like dust swept off a table.
Kael didn't pause.
"Now that the trash is gone, let us begin the next stage."
He made a simple gesture.
Thousands of metallic armbands materialized before every student.
"Wear them. These bands will record your kills, contributions, movement patterns, and behavior inside the Rift. They also display your assigned partner."
Aldric, in the original storyline, had been paired with a random C-rank awakener… and still ended up carrying the entire exam with overwhelming performance.
As for me?
My partner was never mentioned in the book.
A complete mystery.
I picked up the band and slid it onto my wrist. It warmed slightly as it synced to my mana signature. I tapped the interface and accessed the partner display.
The name glowed brightly.
I stared for a second.
Then sighed deeply.
Of course. Of course destiny had to be dramatic.
The glowing letters read:
Elyndria da' Caelrith
The Elven Princess.
The prodigy of the Elven Domain.