CHAPTER 26
The training hall of Sterella Academy echoed with a chorus of excitement and tension. Today, every student of Class S was to demonstrate their innate magic, and for a chosen few, reveal signs of something far greater, the rare and revered blessing of a constellation.
One by one, students were called. Then came the names that mattered, the heirs.
Ravelia stepped forward in measured grace, her red hair glowing under the skylight.
She raised one slender arm, and the temperature in the hall plummeted.
Ice bloomed under her heels and snaked upward.
With a flick of her wrist, jagged spires rose, coiling into an ornate throne that shimmered like crystalized moonlight.
She sat elegantly atop it, regal, untouched.
Gasps and applause followed. The throne melted at her command as she walked back silently, unfazed.
The wind stirred even before he stepped forward. With a single breath, he leapt into the air, spinning with his bow already nocked. Arrows of condensed wind fired in quick bursts, each hitting its target dead center. He landed in a crouch, cape fluttering behind him.
Loud cheers followed the swordsman as he entered with a fiery grin. Drawing his massive blade, he swung in wide, controlled arcs. The force of his slashes split the training dummies clean in half, while his aura flared, briefly forming the image of a lion roaring behind him.
Silas stepped calmly into the center, lifting both hands.
A warm golden light spreads like a dome, casting a healing field around the area.
Injured students nearby felt their aches ease instantly.
Then, he raised a shimmering barrier overhead-impenetrable even against a test flame shot by an instructor.
He turned, bowed slightly, and walked back.
Celene's feet barely touched the ground as water rose around her, curling like ribbons. She lifted herself into the air on a column of water, swirling it around her like a dancer's veil. With a twist of her fingers, the liquid froze into a snowflake that shattered into mist above the crowd.
Zarethian entered with quiet confidence, blade at his side. He drew it slowly, the metal humming with energy. Fire bloomed along the edge, then runes flared in the air. As he moved, an ethereal constellation symbol glowed at his back, shimmering like a phantom sigil.
The ground trembled faintly beneath his feet. The professors leaned forward in their seats, eyes wide. There was no mistaking it.
A constellation's blessing pulsed through his veins.
He sheathed his blade without a word, returning to the line.
The professors waited, pens poised.
Sorayael raised her hand.
A gust of wind rippled across the floor, controlled, elegant, but.. ordinary. No flash, no divine sign. Just basic wind manipulation.
Some students exchanged confused looks.
One professor jotted something down and sighed.
But Zarethian, Celene, and the rest of the heirs simply smiled.
They knew Sorayael Elaris too well.
She was holding back.
Sorayael turned and walked back without a word, not even sparing a glance at the reactions around her.
She wasn't here to impress.
She was here to watch.
The crowd was still murmuring when one of the professors, a tall woman with silver glasses and a clipboard too sharp-looking for comfort, stepped forward.
The students straightened, tension snapping in the air like a drawn bow.
Kieran cracked his neck with a grin. "Try not to freeze me too bad, Ice Queen."
Ravelia didn't even blink. "Try not to get blown away, Wind Boy."
They stepped onto the arena floor, the surrounding students forming a wide ring.
A teacher signaled the start and in a breath, the fight began.
Wind clashed against ice, sharp gusts meeting crystal spears.
The two danced across the battlefield with precision, their element bending and colliding in flurries of sound and light.
Next came:
It was a raw offense against immovable defense.
Karsen charged like a wildfire, but Silas's barriers shimmered around him like a holy wall. Each of Karsen's strikes was met with a timed pulse of energy, blocking the full brunt and slowly exhausting the swordsman.
spar
was elegant like a duel of royalty. Each respected the other's strength, but neither was holding back.
And finally-
A beat.
Students looked around, then at each other.
A figure pushed off the far wall, stepping into the ring casually.
White-black-blue tousled hair, bored eyes with a gleam of mischief.
The same man who saved them from the Dreadmaw. The same one they encountered in the hall.
The professors hesitated.
'even what?' Sorayael was confused at the professors' word.
Sorayael sighed. "You again?"
He gave her a crooked smile. "Feisty."
She rolled her eyes, stepping into the ring with a hand on her hip. "You just can't stay away, can you?"
The crowd leaned in. The tension was different this time.
Everyone sensed it that this wouldn't be a spar, it would be a clash.
The crowd buzzed with anticipation.
It was supposed to be a routine training assessment. One-on-one duels to evaluate combat form, reaction speed, magic control. But no one expected this.
Sorayael Elaris versus the mysterious white-blue-haired transfer - Azi.
Her brows were furrowed, lips pressed in a line. She didn't know whether to glare at him or yawn again.
Azi stood on the opposite end of the arena, arms crossed, lips tugged into an infuriating half-smirk. "You look tired, Feifei. Sure you're up for this?"
"Feifei?"
"Huh?"
The students murmured as they heard him call Sorayael, Fefei.
She rolled her eyes. "You're surprisingly confident for someone who keeps losing arguments."
The crowd gasped. Some chuckled nervously.
The instructor raised a hand. "Begin."
A sudden burst of wind kicked up dust as Azi vanished from his spot fast, too fast.
Sorayael barely tilted her head when a crackle of energy passed by her cheek.
She flicked her hand, summoning a wave of basic elemental magic wind and light, enough to repel him.
But Azi twisted mid-air, landed on one hand, and launched toward her again, blades gleaming.
He's playing. He's not serious. she thought, sidestepping.
But neither was she. Not yet.
Sorayael narrowed her eyes. She extended her hand, threads of light spiraled around her fingers. She cast an illusion, briefly warping her form to distract him, and slid behind him with a blade formed of refracted light.
Azi grinned. "That's more like it."
He parried her blade with his own twin daggers infused with a strange, flickering mana that didn't belong to any single element. Their weapons sparked as they clashed again, and again, a dance of agility and grace.
He whispered as he dodged, "Still hiding, Feifei? Or is this you trying?"
Azi leapt, barely evading the explosion of light-mana.
The crowd roared. They couldn't keep up. Blades shimmered. Mana surged. Footsteps blurred. Spells collided.
Sorayael's cloak billowed as she stood tall, the wind from their magic stirring her hair like a storm. Azi landed a few meters away, panting slightly, a cut on his cheek from one of her light blades. He wiped the blood and chuckled.
Sorayael didn't answer. She only walked forward, slow and deliberate, magic still humming around her. "You're not bad yourself for an alley cat"
His smirk twitched. Then he launched forward again this time with real intent.
And for a moment, just a moment, their magic collided like twin comets, and time felt suspended. The arena shuddered. Professors moved to intervene.
But before they could land their next strike-
The magic faded.
Both stood, breathing hard, faces mere inches apart. Their gazes are locked, challenging and something else is lingering.
Azi chuckled again. "You're dangerous, Feifei."
Sorayael turned away, coolly. "And you're predictable."
But her heart was racing.
As the sun dipped behind the grand towers of Sterella Academy, the echoes of cheers and whispers still lingered from earlier that day.
Back in their dorms, Sorayael sat on the edge of her bed, still catching her breath. Her mind shouldn't be replaying the fight... but it was. Every smirk, every dodge, every time Azi called her Feifei, it stuck like a splinter she couldn't remove.
She scowled and flopped onto her back. "I hate him."
But her ears burned.
The academy bell rang softly the signal for curfew. But for them... it meant something else.