The carriage ride to the Royal Capital took two days, but for Leo, it felt like an eternity. As the wooden cart crested the final hill, the village of Hage felt like a distant dream.
Before him sat the Royal Capital, Kora. It was a sprawling metropolis of white marble and gold leaf, built in ascending circles. At the very center, piercing the clouds, stood the Magic King's palace—a spire of pure crystal that hummed with a mana frequency so strong it made Leo's teeth ache.
"Move it, shrub!" a voice yelled.
Leo stepped aside as a carriage pulled by white horses with manes of literal fire thundered past. Inside, he caught a glimpse of a boy his age wearing an ornate cape, looking out at the commoners with a bored, vacant expression.
The Registration
The exam grounds were held in the Grand Arena of Solis. Thousands of candidates from across the kingdom had gathered. Most were nobles, their mana radiating in bright blues, golds, and violets. Leo stood in the registration line, his simple linen tunic and worn leather boots making him look like a gardener who had lost his way.
When he reached the front, the registrar didn't even look up. "Name. Magic type. Status."
"Leo. Plant magic. Commoner," he replied.
The registrar paused, finally looking up with a look of pity. "Plant magic? The greenhouse is three blocks down, kid. This is the Magic Knight Exam."
"I'm in the right place," Leo said, his voice steady despite the snickers from the nobles behind him.
The registrar sighed and handed him a brass badge with the number 502. "Try not to get killed. The medical fees aren't covered for commoners."
The First Meeting
Leo found a quiet corner of the arena to stretch. The air was thick with tension. He watched a noble boy accidentally summon a gust of wind that knocked over several stalls; instead of apologizing, the boy simply laughed while his friends cheered.
"It's disgusting, isn't it?"
Leo turned. Standing nearby was a girl with flowing, silvery-blue hair that seemed to ripple like water. Her eyes were a piercing turquoise. She wore the crest of the House of Valeska, one of the high-ranking noble families, but she wasn't laughing.
"The way they treat this like a playground," she continued, looking at the arrogant nobles. "They forget that magic was given to us to protect, not to parade."
"Most people only care about the parade," Leo said.
The girl looked at him, her gaze lingering on his brass badge. "I'm Elara. And don't let them get to you. I saw your mana for a second when you walked in. It's... different. It's quiet, but it's deep."
Before Leo could respond, a horn blasted, shaking the very foundations of the arena.
The Arrival of the Giants
High above the arena floor, on a floating balcony of gold, seven figures appeared. The atmosphere shifted instantly. The chatter died. The air grew heavy, almost suffocating.
"The Captains," Elara whispered, her voice full of awe.
There was the Captain of the Crimson Lions, wreathed in actual solar flares; the Captain of the Silver Eagles, cold and sharp as a blade; and five others, each a living legend.
But then, the final figure stepped forward.
The Magic King, Alaric. He didn't wear armor or flashy robes. He wore a simple white cloak. He didn't look like a warrior; he looked like a scholar. Yet, when he opened his mouth, his voice resonated in the minds of everyone in the stadium.
"Candidates," Alaric said. "The kingdom does not need more nobles. It needs more heroes. Prove to us that you are the latter."
He raised his hand, and thousands of grimoires—the books of spells—flew into the hands of the candidates. Leo's grimoire was small, tattered, and bound in faded green leather.
As Leo gripped his book, he felt a strange, cold shiver run up his spine. For a fleeting second, the green leather of his book seemed to pulse with a vein of deep, angry red. He looked up and froze.
The Magic King was looking directly at him. Not at the arena. Not at the nobles.
Directly at Number 502.
"The first trial begins now," the King announced, his eyes never leaving Leo's. "Survival."
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