The man standing at the center of the stage was the principal of the academy. He had this presence that made everyone shut up and pay attention. When he spoke, his deep voice echoed across the courtyard, making the crowd buzz with excitement.

  “Let the first phase of the Royal Magic Academy Selection begin!” he announced, his voice booming with authority. With a dramatic wave of his hand, the air around him shimmered as magic flowed through it.

  A massive circular platform rose from the middle of the courtyard, glowing faintly with ancient runes. Its surface was worn and scratched, evidence of all the battles and tests that had happened there before.

  “As you all know, the academy only takes the best,” the principal said, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd like he could see right through everyone. “To prove you’re worthy, you’ll show your skills here. Your goal? Impress a master mage. If no one picks you, you’ll be escorted out.” He paused, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t worry, though—the gate isn’t too far.”

  A few people laughed nervously, but most of the crowd stayed dead silent, the tension so thick you could almost feel it in the air.

  “Step forward when your name is called. Let your magic speak for you.”

  The first name echoed across the courtyard: “Amara Lestrel!”

  A tall, confident girl stepped forward. Her fiery red hair framed her striking features, and her aura was intense, crackling with power. She lifted her hand with practiced ease, and a stream of molten lava erupted from her palm. The molten flow twisted and swirled, forming a miniature volcano at her feet. With a final gesture, the magma cooled instantly, solidifying into an intricate phoenix sculpture. The crowd gasped, stunned by the breathtaking display.

  “Showoff,” someone muttered, but the admiration in their voice was clear.

  A master mage in emerald robes nodded approvingly. “Accepted,” he said simply, gesturing for her to join the accepted group near the stage.

  In the crowd, Julian watched with sharp, focused eyes. To most, he looked like a carefree flirt, a joker who only cared about chasing girls. But beneath that facade was a boy deeply passionate about magic. He couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement as he watched the display of new and powerful spells. This—magic—was his real passion.

  As Amara stepped down, the next name was called: “Cedric Dawnlight!”

  A boy with black hair and a pale face stepped onto the stage. He raised his hands, summoning a flame above his palm. The flame grew, shifting into different shapes as he showed off his control over fire magic. The crowd began to murmur in approval, but just for a brief moment, he lost control. The magic wavered, and the fire suddenly destabilized. Principal stopped him.

  “Not bad,” his tone was cold, “But not enough.”

  No master mage spoke. “Rejected,” the principal declared.

  Cedric’s shoulders slumped. Back home, he had been hailed as a genius, a prodigy of his generation. Here, a single mistake was enough to end his chance.

  Julian frowned. “I can’t believe this. How could they reject him so easily? That was amazing. Maybe I’ve been too confident about my chances.”

  “Hah, what nonsense are you spouting?” Alice’s voice echoed in his head, sharp and dismissive. “For this lowly realm, maybe his magic seemed impressive, but it’s garbage compared to what you inherited from Bubu’s legacy. Don’t compare yourself to people like him.”

  Julian didn’t reply, his expression unusually serious.

  The next name was called: “Lila Everbloom!”

  The petite girl with green eyes and a flower crown stepped forward. She closed her eyes, moving her hands gracefully like a dance. A soft swirl of water formed around her, glowing gently in the air. It was pretty, but there was no real power behind it. The water drifted away, leaving nothing but a faint shimmer.

  None of the master mages reacted. The principal’s voice cut through the silence. “Beautiful, but useless. Rejected.”

  Lila bowed politely and stepped down, her face calm but her disappointment evident.

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  Before the next name could be called, a muscular boy with an oversized hammer slung across his back leaped onto the platform. “My name’s Bjorn Thundercrash, and I’ll let my skills do the talking!”

  With a booming laugh, he slammed his hammer into the ground. The platform cracked, and sparks of lightning arced wildly into the air. The crowd recoiled at the deafening noise, but the principal’s expression remained unimpressed.

  “Loud,” he said, “but lacking finesse. Thunder magic is not about brute strength alone. Rejected.”

  Bjorn’s face fell, and he stomped off the platform, muttering under his breath.

  The next name was called: "Zara Nightshade!"

  The crowd gasped as a striking young woman stepped onto the platform. Zara was breathtaking, her midnight-black hair falling in soft waves that framed her sharp, perfect features. Her violet eyes seemed to glow faintly, pulling everyone’s attention like they held secrets only she knew. There was a quiet confidence in the way she moved, every step smooth and deliberate, as if the world itself adjusted to her presence.

  She raised her hand, and the shadows around her came alive. Darkness rippled across the platform, twisting and swirling as if obeying her command. Tendrils of shadow stretched from her fingertips, sleek and smooth like liquid smoke. They wove together, forming the shape of a massive wolf with glowing violet eyes.

  The wolf let out a low, rumbling growl that seemed to echo inside everyone’s chest. It stepped forward, its form shifting and flowing like a living shadow, leaving streaks of darkness in its wake. Then, with a snap of her fingers, the wolf lunged into the air. It exploded into hundreds of shimmering black shards, scattering across the stage before fading into nothing.

  The silence that followed was heavy, filled with awe. Zara lowered her hand and stood there, calm and unshaken, like the whole thing had been effortless.

  Three master mages rose simultaneously. “Accepted,” they said in unison, their voices filled with admiration.

  “Not bad,” Alice remarked, her tone uncharacteristically approving. Julian was stunned. Alice, who never praised anyone from this realm and constantly looked down on its people, had finally shown respect for someone. That alone was enough to prove how incredible Zara’s talent and performance truly were.

  Julian turned to Elias “Do you know her?”

  Elias nodded. “She’s Zara Nightshade, from a small but renowned noble family. Though few in number, they are all incredibly powerful mages. Both her father and mother are seventh-level mages, and no one dares to look down on them. I’ve even heard rumors about their... let’s just say, ‘unusual’ training methods to maintain their strength.”

  Julian’s curiosity deepened as Zara stepped off the platform, her head held high.

  A few more people took the stage and showcased their talents. Some impressed with displays of precision and creativity, while others fell short. However, none left an impact quite like Zara.

  The next name rang out: “Aeris Moonstone!”

  The crowd went quiet as Aeris stepped forward. Her long silver hair shimmered like moonlight, and her bright blue eyes seemed to glow. She moved so smoothly, it was like she was floating. Her dress was light and airy, with soft patterns that shimmered, almost like they were alive.

  She lifted her hands, and the wind around her shifted. A gentle breeze swirled at her feet, picking up petals and sending them spinning into the air. The wind grew stronger, curling and twisting into elegant shapes, like ribbons dancing around her.

  Then, with a flick of her wrist, the wind shot forward. It sliced clean through a stone pillar nearby, the edges so smooth it was like it had been cut by a blade. The breeze returned to her, calm and controlled, the petals forming a glowing ring around her as they floated in place.

  The crowd stared, completely mesmerized. Her magic was beautiful and graceful, but it carried a quiet, undeniable power that left even the strongest mages uneasy.

  Three master mages rose once more. “Accepted,” they declared, their voices filled with awe.

  Julian’s heart raced. The sheer power and beauty of her magic left him breathless. “She’s… incredible,” he whispered.

  “Naturally,” Alice replied. “She’s an elf. They’re naturally good at wind and light magic.”

  Before Julian could ask more about elves, the next name was called: “Lord Aric Valen!”

  A tall guy walked up, golden hair shining like it had its own spotlight. His sharp features made him look like he’d been carved from stone, and his glowing amber eyes seemed to see right through people. He wore a fancy dark-blue coat with a silver crest that screamed, “I’m important,” and his confident steps showed he knew it too.

  The crowd went quiet, but the whispers started right after.

  “Why’s he called ‘Lord’ when other nobles aren’t?” Julian asked Elias, frowning in confusion.

  “Because he’s no ordinary noble. He’s the king’s son,” Elias explained. “But his mother isn’t the queen, just the king’s favored concubine. He can’t officially claim the title of prince, but his talent and potential are said to surpass most royal heirs. The king himself has praised him as a genius.”

  Julian watched Aric intently. “Do you think he’s stronger than Zara or Aeris?”

  “No one knows,” Elias replied. “His abilities have been kept top secret. This is the first time anyone will see them.”

  Aric stepped onto the platform, his golden aura flaring. As he raised his hand, the space around him distorted.

  Everyone sensed the power of his magic, but Julian and Alice were the first to notice its true nature.

  “Space-class magic,” Julian whispered, his eyes widening in shock.

  Alice’s voice was grave. “There’s something... wrong about him. Be careful.”